The Conditions of Will

by Jessa Hastings

I don’t allow myself to dwell on the what-ifs of life, but this one, this particular path that could have been mine to wander down—where maybe I could have had two fathers instead of none?

I’ve only spoken to Mom a couple times since I left, and Oliver not at all—Tennyson said he’s doing better though.

🥺

I roll my eyes at him as I swing open the door to find Tennyson and Savannah. “SURPRISE!” Savannah yells. “Oh my God!” I gawk. Tennyson throws his arms around me, and then Savannah wriggles into the hug herself.

😍😍😍

“Yeah.” Tennyson nods. “We had to go via LA to pick up something—” And then Oliver steps around the corner and I sort of freeze.

🥹🥹🥹

Cautiously, I stretch out my hand, and then he drops in a four-month sobriety chip.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

“The men who love her, actually,” Tennyson clarifies, gesturing between himself and Alexis, and I could cry. Maybe I already am, actually.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

“I think you’re unfucking the greater ‘it’ up.”