The grass was bathed in gray light, an early-morning haze that made everything look gentler than it really was.
I should have felt triumphant, maybe even content. Last night had been ... more than I ever let myself imagine.
But when I closed my eyes, I kept hearing the pain in his voice—low and hesitant in the dark as he talked about growing up in houses that never felt like home. How he’d grown up slipping through the cracks of other people’s lives, never quite a son, never quite enough.
I hated that for him. I hated that he carried around this quiet ache like it was just a fact of life, the same way some people carried keys or loose change.
My heart rolled.
It was too easy to fall into this—too easy to want more. To want togivemore.
I took a sip, letting the creamy coffee settle heavy on my tongue. I wasn’t built for fragile things. I wasn’t built for waking up in a man’s arms and pretending it didn’t cost me something every time I let my guard down.
Behind me, I heard the faint creak of floorboards upstairs. A door opened, followed by the unmistakable thump of Winnie’s little feet hitting the carpeted floor.
Her laughter drifted down first—light and unburdened.
“Shhh,” Austin’s voice followed, low and rough with sleep. “Let’s not be loud for Mom.”
“She’s awake already,” Winnie whispered conspiratorially, though I could hear the grin in her voice.
“I know,” he said. “But she seemed pretty tired last night.”
“Did you keep her up past her bedtime?” Winnie’s innocent question had me choking on my coffee.
I couldn’t hear Austin’s whispered response, but I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. I knew the truth was he’d most definitely kept me upwellpast bedtime.
Moments later their footsteps padded into the kitchen. Winnie barreled straight for me, hair wild and her pajamas askew.
“Morning, Mommy!” she chirped, flinging her arms around my waist.
“Morning, my lovebug,” I said, smoothing a hand over her wild curls.
Austin trailed in behind her, running a hand through his own messy hair. His T-shirt clung to him in places that made it hard to keep my eyes from catching.
“Good morning,” he said, a faint smile on his lips before he leaned over and brushed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Morning.” I tried to keep my tone neutral, my hands busy pouring a cup of coffee for him.
I sucked in a deep breath. “You’re both up early,” I added after a beat.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, a half smile tugging at his mouth. “Winnie’s planning world domination from the sound of it.”
“I am not,” Winnie declared, climbing up on a chair. “I’m hungry. Can I have pancakes?”
“You’re in luck,” Austin said, brushing past me to grab a skillet from the cabinet. “Chef Austin is on duty.”
“Chef Austin,” Winnie repeated with a giggle. “You sound like a TV person.”
Austin shot me a look, amused. For a second, something unspoken flickered between us—warmth, familiarity, a question I wasn’t ready to answer.
I looked away first.
Winnie dangled her legs off the chair as Austin poured the first round of batter into the skillet. The warm, sweet scent of pancakes lingered in the air, mixing with the faint smell of syrup and coffee. The radio hummed low from the corner of the counter, a country tune filling the quiet spaces between their voices.
The room felt cozy and settled. It was like a snapshot of a life I wasn’t sure I would ever find.
“Can we paint your nails after breakfast?” Winnie asked suddenly, swinging her legs like a metronome.
