The love of a badboy

Chapter Three

Jamie woke up to a sharp pain in her shoulder.

That's what she got for sleeping on the couch all night. Again.

Sometime in the early morning hours, she'd gotten an alert—something about the storm intensifying. All schools and most businesses had been advised to close for the day. Without even opening her eyes fully, she'd sent a quick group text to her staff, letting them know the café would remain shut.

Then, blessedly, she went right back to sleep.

For once, the universe had done her a favor. No early morning rush, no customer orders, no racing against the clock to open the shop and drop Lily off at school on time.

She could squeeze in a few more precious hours of rest before dealing with her over-hyped five-year-old.

Secretly, she'd hoped for this.

A day off.

She loved her café, loved the independence of not answering anyone, but even more, she loved her daughter. Lately, she hadn't had enough time to just be with Lily. To laugh with her, to sit on the floor, building pillow forts, and pretending the floor was lava.

The only problem now would be finding ways to keep her entertained without leaving the house.

The storm had gotten worse overnight.

The wind howled outside like a wild thing, rattling everything it could reach. The rain was relentless, a steady percussion against the house. Thankfully, the rolling shutters were already down. Jamie had made sure of that the moment the first warning came through, with a press of a button on a remote.

They were one of the few luxuries she had insisted on after moving in—no more climbing ladders or wrecking her back with heavy boards.

She'd splurged, yes. But days like this, it was worth every penny.

By 9 a.m., she finally rolled herself off the couch, stretching gingerly before making her way to the kitchen. Her back still ached, but the promise of coffee softened the sting.

Lily was still asleep, curled up exactly where she'd landed earlier on, clutching Monkey, her tattered, beloved stuffed Giraffe.

Kids, we're weird.

Jamie had held her close, breathing in the soft scent of her daughter's hair, and now, as she brewed coffee in the quiet, she was grateful for the stillness.

No chatter, no questions, no cartoons blaring at full volume.

Just the steady rain, the hum of the coffee maker, and a moment of peace.

The sky was darker than the day before, a moody grey that painted everything in shadow. The storm hadn't let up once, but inside, it was warm and calm.

She took her first sip, letting the rich, familiar taste of her personal roast settle into her chest like comfort. No one made coffee like she did—something Aria, her sister, always teased her about.

"You serve coffee all day," her sister would say, "and you still want to drink it at home?"

But Jamie never got tired of it. Not when it gave her the energy she needed to face the day.

Aria Carter had been her anchor through everything—especially after the split. She was the one who'd pushed Jamie to leave, to start over. She'd helped her find the shop space, helped paint walls, assemble furniture, and even pick out the name.

She was more than a sister. She was a lifeline.

Aria lived in a town with her girlfriend, Francisca, and never let Jamie go too long without checking in. Whether it was a visit, a call, or just a meme sent in the middle of the night, she always made sure Jamie knew she wasn't alone.

Jamie smiled at the thought. Maybe she'd call her later. There was something about a rainy day that reminded her just how far she'd come—and the people who helped her weather the storms.

The soft thudding of small footsteps echoed from her daughter's bedroom, just as Jamie flipped the last pancake. Lily was awake.

"Mommy, why weren't you with me?"

Her daughter's sleepy voice carried a small pout, and when Jamie turned, she saw the way Lily's lower lip jutted out, her big brown eyes full of innocent curiosity. Her stomach twisted at the sight—it was the kind of expression that could melt her in seconds.

Jamie reached for a plate and began stacking pancakes, forcing a smile. "I had to make breakfast, sleepyhead. Thought you might be hungry."

Lily rubbed her eyes and shuffled closer, resting her cheek against Jamie's side. "Okay, Mama, she said, the innocence creeping out of her."

Jamie ran her fingers through her daughter's tangled curls, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Things are so different now. Jamie could see it every time she looked at her daughter—how much lighter she seemed, how much safer she felt. But the memories lingered, no matter how hard Jamie tried to push them away.

She could still remember the look on Lily's face that night. The moment her ex went after their daughter in a fit of rage. The way Lily's small body had gone rigid, her expression stunned, sad, and fearful.

Jamie had reacted before she could think. One second, she had been frozen in horror, and the next, she was lunging forward, clawing at him, hitting him, screaming for him not to touch her. She had fought with every ounce of strength she had, desperation turning into fury until, finally, she had managed to pry Lily free.

And that was it. That was the moment she knew she was done.

Now, as she looked at her daughter—safe, warm, happy—Jamie knew she had made the right choice. The only choice.

She just hoped it stayed this way.

Pushing the dark thoughts aside, Jamie plastered a bright smile on her face. "How about some pancakes with extra syrup?"

Lily perked up immediately, giggling as she climbed onto a chair. "With strawberries too!"

Jamie chuckled, relieved by the shift in mood. "Strawberries it is."

As the storm continued outside, they both sat at the kitchen table, sharing a quiet morning filled with laughter, warmth, and the kind of love Jamie vowed to give Lily.

The cozy dining area was bathed in soft, golden light from the overhead fixture, reflecting off the dark wooden table that Jamie had refinished herself. The chairs, mismatched but charming, bore cushions in muted earth tones, making the space feel even more welcoming. A small vase of fresh flowers sat at the center of the table, a burst of color against the rustic setting. Framed photographs lined the walls, moments of laughter and love frozen in time—Lily's first birthday, a beach trip with Aria, an old picture of Jamie and Lily wrapped in a blanket on a snowy morning. Jamie wasn't sure she wanted to put up the photos of her and Lily's dad; she didn't want Lily forgetting her dad, but she also didn't want her thinking that he was coming back. So she hid them, for now at least.

The scent of maple syrup and butter hung in the air, mixing with the ever-present warmth of home.

Jamie glanced at the phone on the table and picked it up, calling out as she dialed.

"Come talk to Auntie Aria!"

"Hey, sis," Jamie sighed, feeling a wave of comfort wash over her at the sound of her sister's voice.

She couldn't stop the excitement bubbling inside her. The warmth in Aria's tone was exactly what she needed to snap out of the weary dread she had felt creeping in over the past few days.

"How are you doing?" Aria asked.

"Oh, you know, the usual—work and taking care of Bunny. But today, there's actually a storm passing through, which is why I called. How are you guys holding up over there?" Jamie asked.

"The storm isn't really affecting us much, but you know how Francisca can get. She's already boarded up all the windows and glass doors. And now, she's outside bringing in everything she thinks might be hazardous to leave out," Aria said with a fond laugh.

"Smart thinking," Jamie giggled, fully aware of how safety-conscious Francisca could be.

"It's because she loves you," Jamie teased.

Aria sighed, a smile in her voice. "Yeah, I know. And I love her for it."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while before the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the staircase.

"Auntie Ari! Auntie Ari!" Lily shrieked with excitement, bolting into the dining area. She nearly tripped over her own feet in her eagerness to grab the phone.

Jamie grinned, handing it over as Lily clutched it tightly and babbled excitedly. "Auntie, guess what? Mommy made pancakes with extra syrup and strawberries! And yesterday, I drew a picture of Monkey, and I used all the colors! And—"

Lily went on, recounting every little detail of her week, leaving no stone unturned. Jamie leaned back, sipping her second cup of coffee as her daughter's animated voice filled the room, grateful for these quiet, happy moments. Moments, she vowed to protect at all costs.