“Trinity is amazing,” Christopher jumped in, clearly wanting to lighten the mood, “She isn’t just smart and funny, and insanely talented.”
Gabe actually smiled, the expression transforming his face. “Sorry, he brags about her like she’s his own daughter.”
“Someone has to,” Christopher shot back. “You’re too modest.Trinity is a child prodigy in ballet and gymnastics; she’s beyond talented.”
“Really?” Isabella was genuinely impressed. “That’s wonderful.”
Isabella smiled. “Maddy took ballet for a few years, though she’s nowhere near Trinity’s level. She mainly did it as a hobby. There is a small studio on the island. They do Christmas pageants for the kids. You should take Trinity. Maddy could show you where it is.”
“That would be great.” Gabe’s gratitude was evident. “Trinity would love that.”
Isabella plated her own breakfast and joined them at the table, trying not to notice how right this felt, sitting here with these two men in the early morning quiet. “Maddy also doesn’t make friends easily. Although her challenge is different from Trinity’s. She’s what they call a high-potential individual. Basically, she’s a genius.”
The words tumbled out before she could stop them. She rarely talked about this with anyone; the worry that kept her up at night was almost as much as bills and business concerns.
“That must be challenging,” Gabe said with genuine understanding.
“It is. She’s so far ahead of her classmates academically, but socially, she struggles. The school does what it can, gives her advanced work, but it’s not enough. I’m trying to save up to send her to a school for gifted children, where she’d be with kids like her, where she could really thrive.” Isabellastabbed at her eggs, embarrassed by her admission. “Sorry, you don’t need to hear about my problems.”
“Hey,” Christopher’s voice was gentle. “That’s not a problem, that’s being a good mom. You’re trying to give your daughter what she needs. That’s admirable.”
“He’s right,” Gabe added. “And from what I’ve seen, Maddy seems like a great kid. Happy, well-adjusted, kind. That’s all you.”
Isabella blinked against the sudden sting in her eyes. When was the last time anyone had acknowledged how hard she worked to be a good mother? How much did she worry, plan, and sacrifice?
“Thank you,” Isabella managed. “That means a lot.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the kitchen growing lighter as dawn approached. Through the window, Isabella could see the first hints of pink on the horizon, the promise of another beautiful Florida day.
“So this school,” Christopher said suddenly. “How much would something like that cost?”
Isabella named a figure that made both men whistle.
“Per year?” Gabe asked, incredulous.
“Per semester,” Isabella corrected with a rueful smile. “Plus uniforms, books, transportation. It’s not exactly in the single mom budget.”
“That’s insane,” Christopher said. “For that price, the kids better be getting taught by Einstein himself.”
Despite the depressing topic, Isabella found herself laughing. “Right? But apparently, it’s worth it. The curriculum is specifically designed for gifted children, with small class sizes and teachers trained in their unique needs. Maddy would finally be challenged, finally fit in.”
“She seems to fit in pretty well with Trinity,” Gabe observed.
“She does,” Isabella agreed, warmth spreading through her chest. “It’s been amazing to watch. I think they recognize something in each other, you know? That feeling of being a little different, a little apart from everyone else.”
“The outsider’s club,” Christopher said with a knowing nod. “Some of the best people I know are members.”
Isabella looked between the two men, these warriors who’d seen things she couldn’t imagine, who carried their own scars and struggles, and felt a connection she hadn’t expected. They understood. They didn’t judge or offer empty platitudes. They just understood.
The kitchen was fully light now, the December sun painting everything in shades of gold and pink. Soon, the inn would wake up, guests would need feeding, and the day would demand her attention. But for now, in this perfect moment, Isabella let herself enjoy the simple pleasure of breakfast with new friends who were quickly becomingsomething more.
“What about Maddy’s father?” Gabe asked the question, which was innocent enough, but it landed like a physical blow.
Isabella’s fork clattered against her plate, the sound sharp in the morning quiet. She felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach clenching as if preparing for impact. The kitchen suddenly felt suffocatingly warm.
“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry,” Gabe said quickly, clearly reading her reaction. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s...” Isabella took a breath, trying to steady herself. But the words tumbled out anyway, like water through a broken dam. “He left when I was two months pregnant to run off with our restaurant manager, but not before he cleaned out our bank accounts, destroyed our business, and disappeared. I haven’t seen him since.”
