“Guys like me,” he whispered against my mouth, the words rough as if torn from the deepest part of him, “don’t end up with girls like you. He was right. We don’t deserve to.”
I smiled, turning my face to kiss him. “Good thing there is no such thing as ‘just’ an admin assistant.”
He pulled back, and my heart burst just looking at him.
“No, Eunice,” he whispered, his thumb caressing my cheek. “You’re my heart.”
*****
Days later, the weight of Dom’s words still settled over like the softest blanket. I sat in my office, but the work on my screen was forgotten. I kept replaying the look in Dom’s eyes. A look that said I was his anchor, his North Star.
A soft murmur of voices from the kitchen pulled me from my thoughts, and I stood, drawn to the sound of my two favorite people.
I padded toward the kitchen, one hand resting on my belly. The cabin felt especially cozy today, with snow falling steadily outside the windows.
When I got to the door, Leo was perched on a stool, arms crossed, staring stubbornly out the window. I could only see the side of his face, while Dom stood on the opposite side of the island.
“I don’t wanna.” Leo’s voice carried sharp frustration, and I stopped just outside the kitchen door.
Leo’s dark hair was tousled, and his blue eyes—so much like his father’s—were swimming with unshed tears.
“You can’t be upset with me like that all day,” Dom said quietly, sliding a mug across the counter. “Extra marshmallows.”
I pressed closer to the doorframe, my heart squeezing. Dom had been working late again, stress from the company keeping him distracted even here. Leo, sensitive like both of us, felt everything.
Leo didn’t move to take the mug. His lower lip quivered. “You’ll not listen.”
Dom leaned slightly, arms crossed. “Try me.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Tell me anyway.”
After a minute, Leo’s voice broke on a whisper. “I want to live with Grandma.”
I caught the way Dom’s shoulders went rigid, and my own lungs stalled. This was the moment I’d been bracing for—the one I’d known was coming ever since Leo started clinging tighter, shadowing me from room to room like he wanted to anchor himself to my side. His fear had been circling closer every day.
Dom crouched down until they were eye level. “Leo. Look at me.”
When Leo finally met his gaze, Dom’s voice was soft, vulnerable in a way that still surprised me after all these years. “You think that because you’ll have a brother, we won’t love you anymore?”
The stubborn mop of head did not move, but his chin trembled.
I watched Dom reach out, brushing Leo’s wild hair back from his forehead, hand so big but also so full of tenderness.
“I felt like that once, too, when I had a new brother. Like I wasn’t important anymore. It’s a lonely feeling.”
My throat tightened. Dom rarely talked about his childhood, but seeing him open that door for Leo made my chest ache.
“Listen to me, Leo. Love isn’t like pizza. You think if I give a slice to the baby, you’ll starve? Love doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t get smaller when you share it. It gets bigger.”
Leo scrunched his nose. “Why will it get bigger?”
“Because love isn’t food, it’s more like laughter. If you laugh, and I laugh, and your Mama hears it, she will laugh too. It doesn’t disappear or get smaller. It spreads. It makes the whole room full of it.”
Leo blinked, still not entirely convinced. “So… love’s like laughing pizza?”
Dom smiled, brushing Leo’s hair back.
