Yesterday left me emotionally spent, and I desperately want to ignore the outside world while I just live in the glow of last night with Finn.
But I can’t hide. I have to face everything at work and deal with it.
Or I’ll never move on.
Finn reaches for the phone, trying his best not to disturb me. After he stops the alarm, he wraps his arm around me again.
“Good morning,” I grumble, tilting up to catch his gaze.
His eyes crease in the corners as he grins down at me. “Good morning to you.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll never get over how good it feels to wake up with you.”
I sigh against his chest. “Let’s never get up, then.”
“Mm, that sounds good. But what about food?”
“That’s what delivery services are for.”
“They don’t usually do bedroom deliveries.” He laughs.
“We’ll tip them extra,” I say, burrowing closer.
“Good plan, but the girls will miss us.”
“We’ve got plenty of room for them.”
“You have a solution for everything.”
I nod. “But maybe I also just don’t want to face the world quite yet.”
Finn hums in understanding, running his fingers through my hair as the bedroom door clicks open. Two little giggles echo from the hallway. “The wildlings are coming,” Finn whispers into my hair.
Avery and Eloise squeal while running toward us, and Finn bursts up to surprise them. He wraps his arms around them, pulls their bodies onto the bed, and yells, “Cuddle puddle!” They wiggle and giggle above the duvet, kneeing me in the thigh, and Finn takes an elbow to the face.
Amid the joyful snickering, I suddenly remember my daydream. My fantasy: sweet touches and soft words and playful little girls asking for pancakes.
My throat clogs with emotion. I got it. I got the daydream and the fantasy all rolled together, and I can live in it forever.
I look to Finn over Eloise’s wonderfully untamable hair. “Do we have time to make pancakes?”
The wattage of his smile blinds me. “Always time for pancakes.”
***
An email from Sharon pings into my inbox midmorning, asking me to meet her for lunch, and I have to force myself to remain calm.
This’ll be fine. Even if she has bad news for me, she’s a kind, understanding woman, and I trust her to deliver it well. I cansmile graciously and thank her for the opportunity, then fall apart somewhere else.
My chest pinches when I look around my office and picture Kyle at the empty desk. My plants would be shriveled and dead, the office atmosphere a ghost of its past life.
Anxiety is already prickling through me, so I reply quickly, then fill a watering can in the lab room for something to do. When all the plants are happy, I decide the office floor could use a sweeping.
None of that actually lessens my anxiety, but thankfully, I’ve wasted enough time that I can start toward the café. My chest inflates as I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. I give the office one last meaningful look, shake out my imaginary wings, and walk toward The Buttered Bistro.
***
Sharon sits at a patio table under a dogwood tree that looks like the perfect oasis from the summer heat. She waves me over, her armful of bracelets jingling as she does.
I slide into the seat across from her. “Hi. Thanks for inviting me.”
