Page 2 of Don't Think

“Oh, look! We’re here,” I announce, grateful for the perfect excuse to change the subject.

Nora chuckles under her breath. “Saved by the bell.”

We pull into the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires, and all three of us just sit there, staring.

I knew the place would be beautiful from the pictures my aunt sent me, but seeing it in person? It’s a whole different story.

The white, two-story farmhouse sits perfectly behind a freshly mowed lawn, and rows of vibrant flowerbeds run along the length of the house. But what truly steals my heart is the wraparound porch with two rocking chairs facing the road.

I can already picture myself sitting there for hours, getting lost in the novel I’ve tried reading countless times, only to get distracted after three pages.

“Is that aporch swing?” Ana gasps. Her hand flies to the door, and she’s out before I can even turn off the engine. “That’s it. We’re never leaving.”

Nora laughs. “You think she’s excited?” she says, sliding out after her.

When her door thuds shut, I take a long, much-needed breath, trying to settle my nerves as best I can. I know I’m supposed to be excited, but I can’t shake the nagging feeling of guilt still sitting in the pit of my stomach.

This is the first time infive yearsthat my girls aren’t literally glued to my hip. The first time that I’m not responsible for anyone but myself. I could even make a couple of mistakes and not have it instantly reflect on my parenting. And honestly? I’d be lying if I said that feeling alone didn’t excite me and also scare the living shit out of me at the same time.

A soft tap on the window pulls me out of my thoughts, and when I look over, Ana is standing there with a wide grin, bouncing in place.

“Come on, Allie!” she calls through the glass, shading her eyes from the sun. She opens the door and leans in, her smile fading just enough for her concern to peek through. “Are you gonna be alright?”

Well, that’s a pretty loaded question.

Am I going to be alright on vacation? Absolutely.

Am Ialrightwith the fact that I basically had no say in Trevor gettingbothgirls for the entire summer? Eh, not so much.

But since I have them the rest of the year, and neither of us wants to deal with court, it was the only option we could come up with that sounded… what was the word he used? Oh. Right.Fair.

I force a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I lie, but no one needs to know that. Not right now anyway.

She raises an eyebrow, giving me that look I know all too well. The one that screams,Don’t lie to me.

I raise my hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I will be. Maybe not right this second, but... I’ll get there. Promise.”

“You seem to forget we live together, Allie,” Ana says, grabbing hold of my hand from my lap and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We basically share the same brain, so I know what you’re thinking. Youdodeserve this. Let Trevor handle the girls for once.” She chuckles, dropping my hand and spinning toward the house. “Now come on. No more moping.”

It still takes me a few seconds to push the guilt down, but I do it. Or at least I try.

I know I deserve this but convincing myself of that is a whole different story. Especially with the memory of Charlotte crying for me still playing on a loop in my head—her little arms reaching out, and me forcing myself to walk away.

By the time I make it up the steps, Nora’s standing at the front door with the key in her hand, staring at it like it might jump out and bite her.

“You haven’t unlocked the door yet? I figured you guys would have run right in,” I say with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but… what if we open it and the alarms go off? Are we absolutely sure this is the place?” Nora asks, her eyes wide like we’re about to get arrested.

I rest my hand on her shoulder. “Yes, I triple-checked. 1142 Meadow Lane. Big white farmhouse, just like my aunt said,” I reassure her with a smile.

“Yeah, plus the key being in the mailbox is a pretty big giveaway,” Ana adds with a grin.

Nora exhales slowly, then finally inserts the key, twists the knob, and pushes the door open.

Ana doesn’t wait a second. She bolts inside.

She doesn’t get far before we hear her gasp—loud enough to jolt me forward. I rush in behind her, heart suddenly racing like we’re about to walk into a crime scene.