“Perfect. I’ll be right back.”
Cal says something about checking the fuse box near the door, and then the three of us scatter into motion like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
Pushing open the back door, I step into the storage rooms, the beam of my phone light sweeping over the space.
Turning toward the shelf behind the door, I find the lanterns right where she said they’d be and pull out all three.
Right as I turn around, that’s when something catches my eye, a faint gleam at the far end of the room.
Something framed and half-hidden in the shadows on a desk tucked against the wall.
For reasons I can’t explain, I stop.
My chest tightens, an uneasy weight settling low in my gut.
The beam from my phone trembles slightly as I lift it, tracing the light across the cluttered desk and find a single framed photo.
I step closer, the world narrowing down to that image.
Her hair is a little longer, her face fuller and glowing.
She’s standing alone, smiling against a backdrop of a waterfall not too far from here, her dress stretching gently over her round belly.
Her hand rests on the swell of it, her smile wide and radiant like she’s been caught mid-laugh.
The breath leaves my lungs all at once.
My heart stumbles, then cracks, splintering into tiny pieces.
Even thinking about her going through her pregnancy by herself is devastating.
I imagine her standing right there, in that same living room I remember, packing a to-go bag and setting up her first car seat while trying to ignore how scared she must’ve been.
I picture her hands trembling as she pressed them to her stomach, wondering if she could really do this alone.
We should’ve been there. Hell,Ishould’ve been there like I told myself I would be.
If I’d just…if any of us had made it more of a priority to come back up here to see her after the holidays, we would’ve found out sooner.
Even if Eli wasn’t one of ours, we still could’ve helped. We could’ve donesomething.
But instead we let life get in the way and then six years passed in the blink of an eye.
My jaw tightens, the guilt rolling through me like thunder.
The lanterns clink softly in my arms as I head back toward the door.
Noelle and Eli are still behind the counter.
She’s perched on a stool now, humming softly under her breath. Eli’s sitting on the counter in front of her, his small legs swinging, a coloring book balanced across his knees.
He’s already back at it, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he scribbles furiously, clutching two crayons in his little fists.
For a second, I just stand there watching them.
The faint light from the snow outside catches the curve of Noelle’s cheek, the soft shadow of her lashes, the tiny smile she wears when she watches him.
It’s domestic and peaceful.
