“Is he now?” I pour myself coffee and lean against the counter, watching them. “And what’s the secret?”
“You gotta keep them moving,” April says seriously. “And not cook them too long or they get rubbery.”
“She’s a natural,” Grant says, shooting me a smile over April’s head.
My chest aches looking at them like this—so comfortable together, so easy. Like this is something we’ve been doing for years instead of months.
Twenty minutes later, April is ready for school, backpack on and lunch box in hand.
“Bye, Grant! Thanks for breakfast!”
“Anytime, kid. Have a good day.”
As I’m about to follow her out, Grant catches my wrist gently. “Hey.”
I turn back to him.
“This morning was really nice,” he says quietly. “All of it. Not just the sex. The breakfast. The three of us together. This is what I want.”
My throat tightens. “Grant?—”
“I know you’re scared. But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you need, however much time—I’m here.”
I don’t have time to tell him how grateful I am for him or how much I appreciate his patience as I slowly tear down the walls I’ve spent most of my adult life building around my heart, so I just nod and kiss him quickly before heading out to catch up with April.
The morning at work passes smoothly enough. I have a handful of projects to wrap up, some invoices to process, and a few client emails to respond to. Nothing too demanding, which should make it easy to focus.
Except my mind keeps drifting back to this morning. To Grant’s hands on my body. His mouth between my thighs. The way he looked at me over breakfast like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
The way he said he wasn’t going anywhere.
I catch myself smiling at my computer screen like an idiot and force myself to refocus on the spreadsheet in front of me. I’m being ridiculous. I’m a grown woman with a daughter to take care of, not a teenager with her first crush.
But it’s been so long since I let myself feel this way that it’s hard not to hold on to these fleeting moments of pure happiness when they come around.
My phone buzzes on my desk, and I glance at it absently. Unknown number. Probably spam. I almost let it go to voicemail, but something makes me pick it up.
“Hello?”
There’s a pause that’s just long enough to make my stomach clench even though I’m not sure exactly why.
Then I hear the voice I’ve tried for so many years to forget.
“Heather?”
My entire body goes cold, and the whole world tilts sideways so quickly that I have to grip the edge of my desk to steady myself.
Steven.
“It’s been a long time,” he says, like we’re old acquaintances catching up. Like I didn’t run from his apartment in the middle of the night with a screaming baby and a split lip.
My throat closes up. I can’t think. I can’t even breathe.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he continues when I don’t respond. “About April. She must be what, eight now? Nine? I was thinking maybe it’s time we?—”
I hang up.
My hands are shaking so badly I nearly drop the phone. My heart is pounding in my ears, and I feel like I might throw up.
