She’s mine.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and the intensity of it catches me off guard. I’ve never wanted to stake a claim or mark my territory or any of that caveman bullshit. But with her, standing here looking at me, I want all of it.
“Anyone who sees you as ‘just’ anything isn’t good enough for you. Do you understand?”
Her breath catches, and I think for a moment that she’s going to close the distance between us, to reach for me the way she did in that sauna. But she just stands there with her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
“Are you mad?” I ask after what feels like forever. “That I came over here? That I made him leave?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Good.”
I force myself to turn around and walk away before I do something we’ll both regret. Or worse, something I won’t regret at all.
Chapter 23
Heather
“And then Aunt Margo said we could make homemade pizza!” April is squirming around so much in the passenger seat of my car that her seat belt keeps locking. “Like, the kind where you get to throw the dough in the air and everything. Do you think I’ll be able to do it without getting it stuck on the ceiling?”
“Knowing your Aunt Margo, that’s probably part of the plan.” I glance over when we stop at a red light and nearly laugh at how she’s acting. The look of pure joy on her face and the excitement that’s radiating from her are as contagious as they are sweet. “She’s not exactly known for keeping things tidy. Especially when she cooks.”
It’s Friday night, and we’re driving to Margo and Noah’s place for what my sister has dubbed “Girls’ Weekend: The First Annual Margo and April Extravaganza.”
She’d pitched the idea at The Hideout the other night, insisting that I needed a break after working so hard, and that she wanted to take advantage of having April nearby while she still could.
The truth is, Margo has been trying to give me some alone time ever since we moved in with Grant. I’m not sure if shesuspects something is going on between us—I hope not, I’m so not ready for that—or if she genuinely thinks I need the space.
Either way, Noah and Grant have a game tonight, so Margo jumped at the opportunity to have April all to herself for most of the weekend.
“She also said we could do face masks and watch movies and stay up as late as we want.” April ticks off each item on her fingers. “And she’s going to teach me how to braid hair the fancy way.”
“The fancy way?”
“You know, the kind that goes around your whole head like a crown? I saw it in a video online and it looks so cool.”
I smile even though there’s a small pang in my chest at the reminder that my little girl is growing up. She’s getting to the age where she wants to learn about makeup and hairstyles, and where sleepovers with her aunt are more exciting than staying home with her boring mom.
“That does sound cool,” I nod. “Just promise me you won’t let Aunt Margo give you a tattoo or anything crazy like that.”
April laughs. “Mom, that’s not even legal. I’m nine.”
“I know, sweetheart. But with your Aunt Margo, I feel like I should cover all my bases.”
“Cover all your bases…” April uses a mock-serious voice to give her best impression of me. Then she grins and adds, “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Everything,” I reply automatically.
It’s become sort of an inside joke between us, something we started a couple of years ago when April was going through a phase of catastrophic thinking, convinced that every small risk would lead to disaster. I started responding with the most dramatic, over-the-top, worst-case scenario I could think of, getting more and more ridiculous until she was laughing instead of worrying.
Somehow it stuck and has become our little way of acknowledging that yes, things can go wrong, but we’ll handle them together when they do.
“Seriously though, Mom, you should do something fun tonight.” She gives me a thoughtful, almost sympathetic look. “Like, I don’t know, watch a movie you actually want to watch instead of one of mine. Or take a long bath. Or order takeout and eat it in bed.”
I love getting glimpses of the smart, emotionally intelligent young woman she’s becoming, even if I do wish she would leave more of the worrying to me. It’s hard to keep my heart from swelling with pride when she looks at me so sincerely and insists that I do something on my own to have a good time without her.
“When did you get to be so grown up?”
