She stepped closer, drawn by the vulnerability in his voice. Her head tilted slightly as she looked up at him, seeing past his exhaustion to the man beneath. "There are a lot of times in life when we have an idea in our head of how something will go. And then real life never quite matches what we have in our imagination." Her gentle voice was full of understanding. "But, Terry, last night was fine. Dinner was great with all of us, and Ididn't mind staying. In fact, it gave me a chance to get to know your kids a little bit better. And while we hadn't expected this morning, that gave us more time for the kids to get to know me."
Their fingers released simultaneously, as though choreographed by a deeper understanding. Her hands lifted to wrap around his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin and the slight tension in his muscles. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her against him until no space remained between them.
He bent his head, sealing his lips over hers with a hunger that spoke of the long night apart. Desire took over, keeping the kiss hot with flames licking through her body. Every nerve ending came alive under his touch, and she lost herself in the taste and feel of him.
But reality intruded slowly, reminding them that Emma and Toby were just down the hall. They separated reluctantly, both breathing harder than before, but remained wrapped closely together.
Her fingers traced along his shoulders, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I am. It was a shit night." His voice carried exhaustion and frustration. "Started as what looked like a typical beach house party that got out of hand. Turns out, it was way more complicated than that—drugs, alcohol, underage kids, and wealthy college students with lawyers for parents." He rubbed his face with his free hand. "Spent most of the night processing evidence and trying to sort out who was responsible for what. Some of these entitled kids thought their daddies' money would make it all disappear."
Sandra's heart ached for him, imagining him dealing with a situation where justice got tangled up in politics and privilege, while he should have been home with his children and her.
"But after all that, I came home, not knowing what I would find. And my children were in the kitchen early on aSunday morning, smiling and laughing with you while making breakfast." His voice grew softer, more reverent. "They'd done that with me. They'd done that with their grandparents. But they never had that with their mom. And seeing it with you suddenly made everything that I had to do last night seem okay."
He kissed her again, this time with tenderness that made her eyes sting with unshed tears.
"I know we're early days, Terry. But anytime you need me, I'm here. Because I really liked being with your kids, too."
Something shifted in his expression, a wall crumbling to reveal hope and gratitude. "You have no idea how much that means to me." His thumb traced along her cheek. "I haven't had someone to share this with in a long time."
"Well, you do now." She smiled, meaning every word. "We'll figure it out together."
“We’re good?”
She nodded, but he pressed onward. “I mean, are we together?”
Soft laughter slipped out. “Yes, Terry. We’re together.”
He rested his forehead against hers, and for a moment, they simply breathed together, finding peace in each other's presence. The weight of the night seemed to lift from his shoulders, replaced by something lighter and more hopeful.
"Come on," he said finally, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "Let's go see if we can convince the kids to agree on a movie."
She laughed softly. "Good luck with that."
They walked back to the living room hand in hand, and Sandra felt the rightness of it settle deep in her bones. Emma looked up from her book with a knowing smile, while Toby barely glanced away from the television.
"Movie time?" Terry suggested, and suddenly, the living room filled with an animated discussion about what to watch.
Sandra settled onto the sofa with Terry beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Emma was on the other side, and Toby was sprawled on the floor with the remote. Sandra realized this was what happiness felt like. Not the fleeting joy of a moment, but the deep contentment of belonging somewhere, with someone, surrounded by the gentle chaos of family life.
The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting everything in golden light, and Sandra allowed herself to believe that maybe she was exactly where she needed to be.
19
Sandra's arms struggled to carry everything as she maneuvered through the glass doors of the Legal Aid office. Her laptop bag cut into her shoulder, her purse threatened to slip from her elbow, and her lunch bag dangled precariously from her fingertips. The white bakery box from Bess's Bakery sat atop everything, holding her sweet offering for the caffeine-deprived attorneys.
She'd had to decide between coffee or pastries at the bakery counter since she only had two hands and too much to carry. The pastries won, which meant she'd be stuck with whatever brew the office pod machine could produce. Thank goodness for the chocolate caramel creamer tucked safely in her lunch bag. It was her secret weapon against not great coffee, though nothing could truly compete with Bess's perfectly roasted beans.
"Good morning, Sandra!" Portia's cheerful voice cut through the morning quiet. The receptionist's dark eyes widened as she took in Sandra's precarious juggling act. "Oh, goodness! Let me help you!"
Relief flooded through Sandra as Portia rushed around the counter, her heels clicking against the worn tile floor. "Thankyou! You can take that bag into the break room. I stopped this morning to get some pastries from Bess."
Portia's face lit up like Christmas morning, and Sandra couldn't help but laugh at the woman's obvious delight. "I knew that would make everybody happy!"
As Portia disappeared down the narrow hallway, Sandra called out her morning greetings to her colleagues. "Hello, Tom. Hello, Rupert. Good morning!"
Rupert's head popped up from behind his computer screen, hope gleaming in his tired eyes. "Did I hear the word pastries?"
