“Oh, honey.” I put my arm around her and pulled her close. “You were noticed. But I get it. It’s hard, isn’t it? Being between things — too old to be little, too young to do what Will does.”
She nodded, eyes bright with the threat of more tears.
“And everyone’s always playing and having fun with Sadie because she’s so little and so cute.” She sat up a little straighter now, more confident in putting her feelings into words. “And Will gets to hang out with Uncle Ethan whenever he wants. But me, I don’t fit.”
There it was. The heart of it all. That small, quiet ache I’d seen flicker behind her sass and sudden moods. The feeling of being left behind, unseen.
“You fit,” I said firmly. “And I promise I’ll make sure you’re part of everything we do from now on, okay?”
Her gaze lifted to mine, uncertain at first, then softening. “You mean it?”
“I do.”
For a long moment, she studied me, like she was measuring whether to believe me or not. Then she nodded and leaned into me fully, her little arms winding around my middle.
It was such a small thing, that hug. But it carried enough weight to be the thing that stilled the endless sea of emotions warring inside me.
I wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head. “You’re allowed to feel things, Em. Even when they’re loud and uncomfortable.”
She sniffled. “You sound like my teacher.”
“Your teacher must be the smartest person in the world.”
A small laugh bubbled out of her. It was soft but real.
Soon, Sadie wedged herself between us, and Will groaned that there was “no room left on the couch,” but he didn’t mean it. He climbed in anyway, his long legs awkwardly folded, head resting against my shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I dug the remote control out of my pocket and reinstated TV time. By the time the movie started, the four of us were tangled under a shared blanket, the air thick with that comforting smell of vanilla and chocolate. The fire crackled low. Outside, the city glowed gold through the windows.
As I watched their faces in the flickering light, all I could think was how full my heart felt. This was supposed to be temporary. A stepping stone to a paycheck and a roof until I figured out my life.
But somewhere between bedtime stories and temper tantrums, laughter and chaos, something had changed. Inside as well as around me.
And maybe that was the problem.
Because when the movie ended and the house went quiet, I found myself staring into the dim glow of the fire, wondering when exactly “just for now” had stopped feeling like enough.
21
Maren
Steam rose from the aluminum trays like little clouds in the frigid November air, curling around the makeshift tables the guys had set up along the sidewalk. I had my coat zipped tight, scarf tucked just under my chin, gloves thick enough to keep my fingers functional but not clumsy, and a bright orange hairnet stretching over my messy bun.
Ethan had given me a look when I walked in, one eyebrow raised, as if to say,Really?
“You look good enough to eat. So sexy,” Miles teased, though the warmth in his voice made the jab gentle.
“I look sexy in anything,” I shot back, teasing him with a wink.
He struck a dashing pose, snapping the elastic of his own hairnet. “Another thing we have in common.”
I burst out laughing, which brought Adrian closer in an attempt to quell his fomo.
“What’s funny?”
Ethan breezed by us standing in a line, his palm coming out to graze the small of my back. “What’s funny is how you three are messing around instead of working.”
We snapped to attention, Adrian going so far as to salute him with stiff, military precision.
