She shakes her head. “No, it—it’s what I wanted.He’swhat I wanted. When my mom died, I lost this security that I took for granted. My dad’s great, but he’s not…he’s not my mom.”
“When did she pass?”
“I was eleven.”
“Ah, Emma. I’m sorry.”
“I had Laney and Sabrina. And Theo did so much more than most people would give him credit for, even though he wasn’t that much older than me. And he had his own needs that weren’t being met. Not that he’d admit it. But I knew. I tried my best to be what he needed too. We were in it together, you know?”
I nod like I can put myself in her shoes, but playing the part of someone who lost a parent young once or twice isn’t the same as living it day in and day out.
“Since then,” she continues, “I’ve always wanted—needed, maybe?—to have that dream family. To recreate what I’d missed in my own life. The family that I felt like I had stolen from me, even though I still had Dad and Theo. It’s just…they weren’t Mom. She was special. She waseverything.”
“You have a lot of her in you?”
There’s that soft smile again. “I like to think so.”
“I didn’t know your mom, but I’ve never met a mother who wouldn’t be proud of you.”
“She always told me I could be anything I wanted to be. And I’m mostly living the life I always wanted. Bash was—is—my family. And itwashard, but I also knew he was getting bigger every single day. That no matter how tired I was, I didn’t want to miss a second. That he’d be my only baby, ever, and one day I’d sleep again. But I wouldn’t get another chance to be the mom to him that I had taken from me. And he’s worth it. He’ssoworth it.”
I swallow hard.
I’ve lost sleep for roles. For appearances. For my social life. Occasionally for heartbreak.
But never for taking care of another human being.
Not like this.
“And I didn’t do it all on my own,” she adds. “My friends wouldn’t let me. They made sure I rested and ate enough and sometimes showered. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t too exhausted to enjoy him.”
I clear my throat again, but my voice is still husky. “Good.”
I missed so much.
Somuch.
She sucks in a soft breath and puts a hand on my arm, leaning into me. “Jonas, look,” she whispers.
A mama deer and two spotted babies have just stepped into the clearing of her yard from the pine forest. Both fawns stare at the chickens while they hover behind the mama, who puts her head down, munching on the wild grass.
“Aren’t they cute?” Emma whispers.
All I can do is nod.
I’m too hung up in the scent of baby shampoo and a hint of mint tickling my nose. The feel of Emma’s hand on my arm. The effort of suppressing the electric shiver overtaking my skin at her touch. The heat radiating off her body.
Watching the enamored smile light up her face while she watches the animals.
I know she’s lived here her entire life. This isn’t the first time she’s seen baby animals.
But she’s soaking it in like there’s nothing she wants more than the simple pleasures in life. Like she’s honored that they’ve chosenheryard to visit.
Every other time I’ve wanted to impress a woman, I’ve brought exotic flowers. Had chocolates flown in fresh from Paris. There were shopping trips. Private vacations to faraway locations. Backstage passes to just about anything.
Emma doesn’t wantanyof that.
She didn’t in Fiji. She doesn’t here.
