Page 107 of The Irresistible Distraction

“Okay.” He nods. “Is this the wrong time to tell you I love you?”

I huff out a laugh, because it’s not news to me, he’s already said it in a dozen different ways. Though yes, I would have hoped for a slightly more romantic presentation of both these words and the proposal. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Nope. I can be a quick learner too.” Brody gives a tentative smile. “Could I make my closing argument?”

It’s telling that even now, annoyed and angry as I am, Brody can force a reluctant laugh out of me. Life with him won’t ever be the sweet, quiet contentment I might have had with Jesse.

It will be better.

“Sure.”

“No one ever asks Sebastian why he loves math—he loves it and so you support that passion. In the same way, some of my best decisions have been based on what other people call whimsy or gut instinct: I can’t explain why I love physics, but I know the sense of wonder I feel every time I’m under a proper telescope. I joined my coding team and met my best friends because the problems looked fun and it felt right. In that same way, from almost our very first time together, you feel like home. Every time with you is better than the last. Every day I love you more.”

I take in a deep breath.

He is persuasive.

But I’m not about to be pushed into his crazy timeline just because he’s articulate.

I shake my head at him. “A week of quiet and peace. No dramatic declarations. No best friends having babies, emergency helicopters, or poker nights. Okay?”

Brody swallows, throat working as though it’s difficult. “Okay.”

32

AT 115 FOLLOWERS

Ispend Sunday trying to focus on processing the pictures I’ve taken over the past two weeks. The volume is almost overwhelming. I hadn’t realized how many pictures I was taking, not really, even while I was switching out memory cards. But the sheer number of shots I now have to look through and select which ones to edit, crop, and filter is intimidating.

Brody texts that he’ll pick up Sebastian from his playdate, and I don’t argue.

Jesse texts that he’d like another chance to make his case, next week, and I let him know (again) that the only relationship I really want with him is the one where we co-parent Seba.

Maggie texts me pictures of Angelina Alessandra, but Maggie’s too tired and swarmed by visitors to talk.

Vera texts as well—and though most of her messages have been scenery shots of Europe with the occasional food porn, today’s texts are weightier.

VERA: Brody told me what he did.

VERA: Technically, everyone else told me first. You had Judge Benson over for poker? Bravo.

VERA: Anyhow . . . here’s where I remind you Brody means well . . . he just isn’t used to real, adult relationships.

VERA: Go easy on him, dear.

I’m not sure what to say, and so I silence my phone and go back to editing. I almost never silence my phone, because I’m always worried Maggie, Vera, or Sebastian will have some emergency. But that catastrophizing has rarely served me well, and also, I know where they all are.

They’re safe and protected.

They are all well.

I’m the one who is struggling.

Since I’m not ready to talk to any of them about Brody, I go back to my photos, amazed to see I’ve produced some pictures that are actually . . . not bad, maybe even approaching good.

I lose track of my morning and only come up for air when Sebastian comes home, tired and filthy in a way that’s hard to comprehend. He looks as though he has as much dirt and grime on him as when he went camping, but he tells me they went hiking with an enthusiasm that is palpable. He’s also eating venison jerky.

“The dads made it and offered to teach Brody, who of course acted like he didn’t already know how.”