~Jennie’s~

“No, Blue, sweetheart…that’s not your toy. That’s a vase from France and if you break it, Reo might finally implode.”

I call it out as I walk down the hallway. A towel is slung over my shoulder, and my hair’s still damp from the shower. My mood is surprisingly light today. I even had breakfast…real breakfast. Half a croissant and tea. Progress.

But the second I step into the living room, my blood runs cold.

Adele is here.

Again.

Sitting on the edge of the ottoman like she belongs here; one leg crossed too neatly and her hand outstretched toward my son.

My son.

Blue giggles as his sticky...