“Why am I not surprised you think that?”
“What?”I ask, playing stupid.
“You think skating at a year old is a legitimate goal.”
I glance at her, grinning.“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
Her laugh hits me hard.For a while, we take turns pushing the swing, listening to our girl squeal like life is perfect.And for those minutes, it is.
Later, when Grayce has worn herself out, we settle on a blanket in a grassy, sunlit patch.She gnaws on her teether toy, drool dripping onto her bib.Maddie tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear, the breeze teasing them free again.
I lean back, stretching my legs, watching a group of kids kick a soccer ball across the grass.Words itch my throat, heavy and sharp.
“Do you ever wonder if Gray’s insistence upon us raising Grayce together was more than giving Grayce the best?”
Maddie frowns.“What do you mean?”
“Well, he said we were more alike than we knew, and I thought that was ridiculous at first, but looking at our backgrounds, we have the same thread running through.A lack of parental love.”
Maddie turns her head, gaze steady on me.“That’s become obvious.”
“We both built walls, refused to count on anyone other than Gray.If we don’t need anyone, they can’t fail us, right?”
“Right.”The silence hangs and then her voice wobbles.“Gray was the first person who made me feel like I mattered.Like I wasn’t just temporary.”I’m stunned when a tear slides down her cheek before she dashes it away.“And I think you might be right.I think he wanted us to look after each other in that way, not just Grayce.”
Her head ducks, as if she’s ashamed to show me that vulnerability.
Something inside me cracks wide open.I slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her in, no hesitation.She fits against me like she’s been there a hundred times, her forehead pressed to my chest.I rub slow circles on her arm, the top of her head tucked under my chin.She doesn’t move, doesn’t shake with sobs, but I can feel the pain through our touch.
“You’re not temporary,” I murmur.My throat feels raw, but I mean every damn word.“Not to me.Not to Grayce.”
She tilts her head up, eyes shining, but I can tell she’s unwilling to let any more tears slip free.We’re close, so close I can see the flecks of dark blue in her irises, feel the motion of her breath against my mouth.The air feels thick with everything we haven’t said.
My eyes drop to her mouth, and I start to lean, just a fraction, and so does she—
Grayce squeals.
We both jerk back, our heads angling toward the baby.She’s gripping the side of the stroller, wobbling as she pulls herself upright.Her face is determined, scrunched with effort.Then, with a tiny grunt, she lets go—
We both suck in air, hold it tight and wait to see what she does.
Which isn’t much.
She sways slightly back, then forward again, then back once more before plopping down on her diaper-padded butt on the edge of the blanket.
“So close,” I lament.
Grayce lets out a stream of what might be baby curses and claps her hands.Maddie’s face is lit with pure joy, her eyes locked on me like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or fall apart.
And in that second, I want to kiss her so badly my hands shake.Instead, I scoop up our little girl and push her right into Maddie’s arms so she can have a moment to celebrate the almost milestone of walking.I watch as Maddie cuddles Grayce into her, keenly aware that’s a feeling Maddie herself probably never had.
She glances at me and I see a tinge of embarrassment in her smile.We didn’t kiss, but we both know we’re toeing a dangerous line.
I don’t know what that means, only that I’m not going to shove that in a back corner to be ignored.
CHAPTER 16
