“Noah, don’t snatch,” I scold.
He ignores me and takes the leaves off Ryan.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
“That’s okay, buddy.” Ryan leans forward and ruffles his hair. Noah has the same dark curls as his own.
“I like this one.” Noah selects the biggest leaf and holds it up to Ryan, who makes a show of inspecting it before selecting his own favorite.
I retreat to a bench seat on the other side of the courtyard, wanting to give them space. I pull out my tablet and bring up the designs for a job I’m providing a quote for. But I’m too distracted to work. Instead, I watch them out of the corner of my eye.
Noah’s voice carries to me as he says the colors on the leaves he recognizes. Ryan watches him, talking easily with him. His expression turns from uncertainty to wonder, and for the first time since I’ve seen him again, I get a glimpse of the man I met in the bar.
Noah sits on the ground and spreads the leaves around him, arranging them in some kind of order. Ryan leans forward and points to a leaf. I can’t hear what he says, but Noah looks up at him and giggles. When I see Ryan smile, my heart lurches.Seeing them together and the way he looks at Noah—like the kid hung the moon—twists something inside me.
By the time half an hour is up, I’ve given up pretending to work, and I’m watching them openly. Ryan has Noah sitting on his lap, and they’re both giggling as they tear around the garden path.
The Zen garden is supposed to be a peaceful area, with a water feature and calming lines designed to create a quiet place for reflection. But today, the walls echo with laughter and the sounds of Noah calling, “Faster, faster.”
I’m laughing as they come to a stop beside me. “We better get going and leave Uncle Ryan in peace.”
Ryan wheels Noah right up next to me, and his smile makes my heart quicken. I lift Noah off Ryan’s lap, and though he tries to hide it, I notice him wince as I pick up Noah. It cost him to have him on his lap, no doubt crushing his stump. But Ryan hasn’t mentioned it.
“Go gather up your leaves,” Ryan says. “I need to talk to your mom.”
Noah toddles off to his precious leaf collection, and I’m left alone with Ryan. I sit back on the bench so we’re at eye level.
Ryan has a lightness about him that I haven’t seen since before, and his eyes sparkle with something that might be hope.
“He’s great,” he gushes. “A cool little guy.”
My heart swells with a mother’s pride. “Yeah. He is.”
We grin at each other, and for a moment, I’m back in the hotel room. Back when we shared something that my grief stopped mefrom recognizing as special. I reach my hand out and rest it on his arm.
Ryan starts at the contact, his expression turning tight, and I pull my hand back, annoyed at myself for ruining the moment.
“I’ve got money,” Ryan says, “for missed child support payments. Let me know how much, and it’s yours.”
My throat constricts. I don’t want his money. I want him to look at me the way he looks at Noah. I want him to notice me as more than Noah’s mom. Money is the last thing I want from him. Besides, I’ve come this far on my own.
“I don’t need it.”
Ryan shakes his head, and his lips curl up. “Hudson told me you’d say that.”
I sit back on the seat, annoyed at my brother for discussing me, but at least that means they’re talking.
“I’m not here to take your money, Ryan.”
“It’s not for you, Paige.” He turns to look at Noah, who’s gotten distracted by a beetle crawling across the path. “If you don’t want back payments, then at least accept payments from now on. I’ll deposit them weekly into your account.”
Leaning forward, I put my hands on my knees. “I’ve come this far…”
“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts me off. “You’ve come this far on your own. But you’re not on your own anymore, Paige. Let me do what’s right.”
He puts a hand on my knee, and the touch is electric. My gaze flicks to his, and I wonder if he felt it too, but I can’t read his expression.
