“What did you tell her?”
“That you’re a friend.”
“And if that changes?”
The question hangs between us. This is the moment. The one where I decide whether to stay safe or step forward.
“Then it changes,” I say simply.
His smile widens. “Good to know.”
Lily appears in the doorway. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Same time?”
He looks at me. I nod.
“Same time,” he confirms.
She disappears again and he heads for the door. I follow, not ready for him to leave but not sure how to make him stay without making it something it’s not. Not yet.
“Hey,” he says at the door. “Thanks for this. For trusting me with her.”
“She trusts you. That’s what matters.”
“And you?”
“I’m getting there.”
“Fair enough.” He opens the door, then turns back. “For what it’s worth, this feels like something. You, her, this.” He gestures vaguely at our house, our life. “It feels like something real.”
Before I can respond, he’s gone, walking to his car with that easy stride. I watch until he drives away, then close the door and lean against it.
It does feel like something. Something real. Something worth the risk.
“Mom?” Lily calls. “Can you help me practice?”
“Coming,” I call back.
I find her in her room, guitar out, trying to remember the finger positions. She looks up at me with bright eyes.
“I really like him,” she says simply.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Me too, but Darian said no more practicing today. Let’s watch a movie.”
Lily begrudgingly puts her guitar away and follows me into the living room. I search until I find the movie August Rush. I figure watching a movie about a young, talented musician will be right up her alley.
Later, after dinner and bath time, we’re snuggling in her bed, “Is it okay that I hugged him?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know. Some people don’t like hugs.”
“He seemed okay with it.”
“Yeah.” She yawns. “He gives good hugs. Safe ones.”
