The Setup and the Substitute by Jiffy Kate

Chapter 37

Sophie

Bennett: Here’s your daily reminder that your day could be worse. So, keep your chin up, little sis, and don’t go running into any garage doors.

I haveto read my brother’s text a couple of times before I click the most recent link he’s sent. Naturally, the link takes me to my TikTok app and as I watch some guy guzzle down a very fizzy drink, only stopping to burp so powerfully, he runs into the garage door behind him, I understand Bennett’s message better. My brother really is sweet… demented but sweet.

Me: Ha ha ha. I’m actually having a “Self-care Sophie Day”, so your message was well-timed. Thank you.

Bennett: Nice. What all is involved in this Self-care Sophie Day? You know, in case I need a Self-care Benny Day.

Me: The usual… coffee, mani/pedi, and later, yoga!

Bennett: None of that sounds fun, except for the coffee, but you do you, boo-boo.

If I’m being completely honest, I should call today “Distract Sophie from Life Day”. My calendar is full. Not only do I have the appointments I mentioned to my brother, but I’m also getting a facial, hair trim, and body wax.

Seriously, if having every hair below your navel ripped out doesn’t take your mind off your problems, even for a few minutes, I don’t know what will.

An hour later, I’m in the middle of yoga class when I hear my phone vibrate with an incoming text. Even though it’s probably just my brother sending another link to a TikTok video, I still stretch my body to peek at the screen.

“Don’t do it,” Greer says calmly as she exhales and expertly twists her body into a pose. “If it’s Owen, he can wait five minutes.”

When we’re doing yoga, she’s as namaste as they come. I wish I was as zenned out as her, but I’m not. I can’t relax. It doesn’t matter what I do—wine, reading, yoga. My mind is still full of all the things I haven’t had a chance to say and my heart is still aching from missing Owen and the kids.

“Find a focal point,” our instructor says. “And breathe.”

I do what she says—following every step—but the calming effect still doesn’t come.

After we finish, Greer turns to me on her mat. “Are you going to see if it’s him?”

Picking up my towel and dabbing the sweat from my forehead and neck, I eye the phone warily. “I don’t know. If it is and he says something else that’s robotic and emotionless, I might climb through the phone and strangle him.”

“And if it’s not,” she prompts.

“I still might strangle him,” I admit.

After he called me the other night, letting me know the kids weren’t coming back to New Orleans with him, initially I was hurt more than anything.

Hurt by his assumption that I would only be worried about the money.

Hurt by his cold brush-off.

Hurt by the way he so easily threw everything we had away.

And then I got pissed.

“You need to just call him,” she says, standing from her mat. “I’m tired of seeing you like this and it’s making me not like him, which isn’t great, considering you’re in love with the man.”

She’s right.

I am.

I’m so freaking in love with him I can’t stand myself… or him… or the shitty hand he’s been dealt. Normally, I’d see the flaws in someone and not want that kind of complication in my life, but with Owen, I love him despite all of that. I don’t care that he puts up walls to keep people out or the fact he has a drug-dealing ex. None of that matters to me. What matters is that he has a good heart and he’s a good human. One of the best, actually. And he’s the best dad, always putting Molly and Ryan’s needs above his own.

When I think about Lisa and the turmoil she’s put them all through, I want to strangle her too.

Gah, here I am at a yoga class, trying to find some freaking inner peace, and all I can think about is strangling people!

But, in all honesty, if I could, I’d battle all of Owen’s demons for him so he can just be happy.

He deserves it.

Before I realize what she’s doing, Greer grabs my phone and walks away with it.

“Hey,” I call out, scrambling to get up to follow her.

When I catch up with her, she turns to me with a knowing smile. “You’re going to want to read this.”

Taking the phone from her, I glance down to see Owen’s name.

Owen: Just want you to know I’m thinking about you right now.

Owen: And I’m sorry for the past few weeks.

Owen: You deserve more than that and I promise I’ll make it up to you, but this is the best I can do right now.