“She’s not losing you,” Mom interrupts. “That’s what matters.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “And maybe it’s time she sees that good things come into your life too. Not just responsibilities.”
I look out into the backyard, quiet for a long moment.
“She makes me happy,” I admit in a low voice. “More than I expected.”
Mom smiles. “Then stop punishing yourself for that.”
“I’m not?—”
“You are,” she says simply. “You’re scared of what the future might look like, so you’re ruining the present. Let her in. Let yourself in. Let Maisie see that her father is allowed to have someone.”
I breathe out slowly. “She fits with us, a little too easily.”
“That’s not a problem,” Mom says. “That’s a blessing.”
We sit there for a while, quiet and thoughtful.
The door slides open and Maisie pokes her head out.
“Grandma, Daddy, I’m hungry again.”
Mom stands. “Then let’s fix that.”
Maisie trots over and grabs my hand. “Daddy, can we see Charlotte tomorrow?”
The question has my heart racing.
I smooth her hair. “We’ll see, bug.”
She seems satisfied and skips back inside, whereas Mom stays on the deck long enough to give me one last look.
“Don’t run from something good,” she says. “Not this time.”
I nod slowly, feeling every bit of the truth in her words.
I don’t know exactly what comes next, but I know I want Charlotte in it, and maybe, finally, that’s enough to take the next step.
Chapter 8
Charlotte
Festivals always start loud,even before the crowds arrive, there’s noise everywhere; vendors unpacking boxes, tents snapping open, volunteers calling for zip ties. By the time the Heart-to-Heart Festival officially opens, the entire field is humming with people, music, barking dogs, and one vendor testing his microphone so loudly that three toddlers burst into tears.
It’s chaotic, and normally I thrive on that, but today my brain is split between event management and trying very hard not to think about Liam.
Spoiler: I’m doing a terrible job.
He was at the bakery booth when I first did my morning rounds. I’d stopped by to check the setup, but mostly I stopped because I wanted to see him. We said hello, simple and normal, but the second he smiled at me in that soft, warm way that hits right in the center of my chest, everything inside me went quiet.
Then he hesitated, only for a moment, but I felt it. I know better than to overthink a single breath, but I still found myself replaying it while directing traffic cones and answering twenty-seven questions about booth locations.
“Charlotte!”
A vendor rushes toward me holding a tray and I brace myself instinctively.
“My carrots are melting.”
I probably blink for a solid second. “Your what?”
