“Where is she?” I asked.
Emma hesitated. Only for a moment, but I caught it.
“She went to the store,” she said carefully. “With Ethan.”
My stomach tightened. My face remained neutral only because years of practice had made it second nature.
“Okay,” I said, even though I didn’t feel okay, at all.
Emma set the folder on the counter, then reached for my hands with a gentleness that undid me.
“Claire… honey I had been meaning to talk to you, promise me something.”
My heart dropped. “What?”
“Don’t disappear from our lives.”
The words were soft, but they landed like a stone in my chest.
“We know Ethan coming back… complicate things,” she said, her voice warm but weighted. “We know there’s history. And we’d understand if it hurts to see him around.”
I swallowed, the ache sharp and immediate.
“But honey, you’re part of this family too,” she continued. “You always have been. Lily adores you, she has lost too much. She needs you, now more than ever.”
My throat constricted. “Emma.”
She squeezed my hands, her voice breaking for the first time.
“You’re her godmother. You’re ours, too. Please don’t pull away. Not now.”
Grief and resolve rose, thick and unexpected, and I blinked fast to keep my vision clear.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, surprising myself with the steadiness in my voice. “I love her. I love and care about all of you. Ethan being back doesn’t change that.”
Emma inhaled shakily and pulled me into another hug. “Good. Because losing Matt and Jenny… we just can’t lose anyone else.”
I held her tightly, breathing in the faint scent of flour and her perfume.
“You won’t,” I whispered.
“I promise.”
And I meant it.
Even if Ethan was a wound I’d spent years trying to cauterize. Even if his return stirred everything rotten, I’d long buried.
Lily needed stability. She needed love.
And I wouldn’t let my complicated feelings stand in the way. I wasn’t about to let anyone down.
Chapter 11
Ethan
Lily walked beside me. Her mittened hand slipped into mine as we crossed the parking lot toward Briar’s Market, the automatic doors releasing a burst of warm, bread-scented air when we stepped inside.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The produce mist hissed. People moved slowly, like the universe inside this small-town grocery store had decided to run at half-speed.
