“Oh my Go—” Ren mutters. “Mom let the woman breathe.”
Sylvie steps back, her smile apologetic and I wave Ren off with an exaggerated dirty look. “Let the woman hug, Rafferty.”
Ren gives me an exasperated look, one of his looks I know all too well at this point. I move closer, my arm snaking around his waist, and then I smile up at him. “Don’t worry, babe. I still have hugs left for you.”
He lowers his head, whispers, “What if I want them all?”
I laugh then reply, “I think you better get your fill while you can because before we know it, your son or daughter will be here stealing them from you.”
“Excuse me,” Sylvia interrupts. “You’re what?”
I blink at her, feeling like a kid who got caught with a hand in the cookie jar. Then Ren says, “Surprise.”
Sylvie’s excitement is palpable. She gives me a little bouncy dance hug while Richard shakes Ren’s hand and then pulls him into a hug. Sylvie releases me, joining Richard in congratulating their son and I step back, giving them a moment to revel in the news.
A hand on my shoulder draws my attention and I turn to find Jessica standing next to me. She’s watching the scene intently, her expression kind of lost as she says, “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“People’s capacity for love.”
“I suppose,” I respond. “But it’s so new to me, it sometimes throws me off. Like it’s still a shock to my system to think families out there actually love each other and want what’s best for each other.”
“I’ve been there. I totally get it.”
“Yeah?” I ask, turning to look at her. She has that same lost expression, but now it seems dreamy on the edges. “You didn’t win the loving family lottery either?”
Jessica shrugs. “My dad did his best after my mom died. But the life we lived was far from normal, so there wasn’t a lot of leeway for much else beyond surviving.” She pauses, hooks her arm through mine, turns her head to look at me. “Luckily, the family I chose for myself more than makes up for anything I feel I missed out on while growing up.”
I smile, glance over my shoulder where Declan and the others are seated with a few new faces I’ve yet to be introduced to. Then I turn back to Jessica and reply, “My dad did his best as well, but sometimes I worry he didn’t get to his best until it was too late.”
I immediately regret my comment, my cheeks heating with anxiety as Jessica searches my eyes. “You wanna talk about?”
I frown, tilt my head as I contemplate her simple question. In the past the answer would be automatic, short and abrasive. But now, it’s different. I feel different. As if some of that heaviness I’ve been carrying has eased some.
I take a slow, deep inhalation, release it slowly, reveling in this new warmth that bubbles inside me as I lift my gaze to Jessica’s and respond, “Not yet.”
She smiles, her expression knowing, but she doesn’t press or pry; just remains a solid presence by my side.
Ren waves from where he’s still standing with his parents, motioning for me to join him. I hesitate, not because I don’t want to join him but because I’ve enjoy watching him, and I’m not ready for this warm feeling to end.
He gives me a stern look, his initial small wave turning into a firmer movement indicating I better get my ass over there. I wink at him, earning myself another stern look that has that heat inside me overflowing, like a flame chasing euphoria.
He sighs theatrically, his eyes raising to look up at the ceiling as he mutters to himself dramatically. Then he looks back to me, smiling as he waits, knowing I’ll give in because right now, I want to.
And so, after another moment of exaggerated hesitation, I go.
27
ON THE EDGE
CASSIDY
Hours later,we’re in the back of the car on our way home. Ren is seated next to me, staring at the passing lights out the window, his hand on my leg, thumb stroking lazily.
Being grateful is easy. Letting others know you’re grateful, not so much. Admitting to someone that you care about them is deeply terrifying.
Clearing my throat, I open my mouth to voice the sentiment, but nothing comes out. So I clear my throat again, fidgeting anxiously when once again I find I’m incapable of speaking.
