“You’re glowing. You’re happy. And I haven’t seen you look like this in . . . God, forever.” Sydney’s eyes softened. “So don’t look at me like I’m about to scold you. I’m just glad you finally found someone who makes you this way.”
Hillary’s throat tightened, caught off guard. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Of course it’s weird. But it looks good on you.”
For once, Hillary had nothing to say. She just sat there, stunned, until Murphy returned to the table with that easy smile, the whole restaurant seeming to brighten with him.
The food arrived, and somehow the conversation flowed as easily as if the three of them had done this a hundred times.
Murphy leaned into it like it was second nature, joking with Sydney about the restaurant’s playlist, teasing Hillary about her obsessive order notes on her salad, and even showing Sydney a picture of Finn.
“You’re ridiculous,” Hillary muttered, though she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.
“Oh my god, I love him,” she cooed at the cute dog on the phone. “But honestly, Murph, I think I love you too. You’re exactly what my sister needed.”
Hillary rolled her eyes, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Don’t encourage him.”
But Murphy only squeezed her hand under the table, and then, looking at Sydney, said with that disarming sincerity, “She’s exactly what I needed, too.”
The words weren’t for her, not directly, but they hit Hillary like a thunderclap all the same.
She looked between them. Her sister was already welcoming Murphy as if he’d always belonged, and Murphy, utterly at ease, like family was simply something he carried with him.
The evening found them tangled together on Murphy’s couch, Finn curled up like a cinnamon roll at their feet. The lights were dim, the TV playing quietly in the background, though neither of them was really watching. Hillary’s head rested against Murphy’s shoulder, his arm loose around her, his hand tracing idle circles on her arm.
But her mind wasn’t here. It was replaying lunch over and over. Sydney’s easy laugh, Murphy fitting in like he’d alwaysbeen part of her world, the way it had all felt so natural. Too natural. Like a glimpse into a life she’d spent years convincing herself wasn’t for her.
She let herself imagine it, just for a second, Sunday lunches, family dinners, Finn under the table begging for scraps, Murphy leaning in to kiss her temple without thinking twice. It made her chest ache. How good it could be if she’d only stop pushing it away.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Murphy murmured, breaking into her thoughts. His voice was gentle but teasing, the kind of tone that told her he already knew she was spinning herself in circles.
Hillary blinked and lifted her head to look at him. “Just . . . thinking.”
“Dangerous,” he said, lips quirking, but his eyes searched hers like he was ready to pull every thought out if she’d let him.
Her heart squeezed. She’d never known someone who could see through her walls so easily and still want to stay.
Hillary shifted so she could see his face, her hand flattening against his chest where his heartbeat thudded steady and sure. She had run from so many moments like this, pulled away, convinced herself it was safer not to fall. But she wasn’t running now. She couldn’t.
“I need you to know something,” she whispered, her voice catching, but she didn’t look away. “I’ve spent months trying to convince myself I don’t . . . that this isn’t . . . that we’re not—” She broke off with a shaky laugh, brushing her thumb over his shirt. “But I’m still scared I might mess it up. But I really don’t want to. Not when being with you feels like breathing again.”
Murphy’s smile spread, slow and sure, the kind that had undone her from the beginning. He cupped her face, his thumb swiping away the tear that slipped down. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in until his forehead touched hers. “Because I love you too. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Something broke open inside her at that. Not the shattering kind. No, this was the opposite. The pieces she’d been holding together so tightly finally slipped into place, whole, safe, loved. She let out a laugh and kissed him, pouring every ounce of her heart into it.
There was nothing left to hide.
52
MURPHY
Murphy padded into the kitchen, still loose-limbed and easy after a night of actual sleep. Not the restless kind he’d had too many nights this season, but the kind where he’d fallen asleep with Hillary curled into his side and Finn snoring at their feet.
He blended a smoothie on autopilot: protein powder, banana, blueberries, peanut butter, his usual. While it whirred, he grinned at the way last night kept replaying in his head. Not the fireworks of the equipment room, not the mess of emotions and confessions. Just her laugh muffled against his chest when Finn tried to wedge between them in bed. Just her lips brushing his shoulder before she drifted off.
After Finn was walked and dropped off with the woman downstairs who doted on him whenever the team was away, Murphy met Hillary in the lobby. She looked,well, like herself. Professional coat, hair pinned back, already in work mode. But when she smiled at him, it was softer, unguarded, just for him.
They walked out together, the cold air nipping at their cheeks as they headed to the corner café. It was ordinary. Normal.The kind of moment couples probably had all the time. But to Murphy, it felt almost dizzying in its simplicity.
