***
That evening, Nora was working late—a deadline for one of her clients—so Carson made dinner for both of them.
He’d gotten better at cooking over the past six months. Had actually started to enjoy it. The routine of it. The creativity. The satisfaction of creating something with his hands that didn’t involve crime or violence.
Dr. Carpenter would be proud.
Nora came home at seven, looking exhausted but happy. “You cooked? You’re my hero.”
“Spaghetti and meatballs. Nothing fancy. But it’s edible.”
“It smells amazing.” She kicked off her shoes and sank into a chair. “Today was brutal. My new client needed their entire financial structure reorganized. I’ve been in spreadsheets for eight hours.”
“But you love it.”
“I do. Even when it’s hard, I love having something that’s mine. Something I built.” She accepted the plate he handed her. “Thank you for understanding when I work late. For not making me feel guilty about it.”
“Why would I make you feel guilty? You’re building a business. That takes time and energy.”
“I know. But some partners would resent it. Would want all your attention all the time.”
“I’m not some partners. I’m me. And I understand about work demanding attention. Aslong as we’re both present when we’re together, as long as we both make time for us, the rest is just life.” He sat across from her. “Besides, watching you build your business? It’s inspiring. Makes me want to be better at my own work.”
“You’re amazing at your work.”
“I’m getting better at balancing it. That’s what matters.”
They ate dinner together, then did dishes, then settled on the couch for a movie neither of them really watched. Too busy touching, talking, just being together.
“I saw Dr. Carpenter yesterday,” Carson said at one point. “Individual session. We talked about Lily.”
“How did that go?”
“Good. Hard. But good. I’m starting to accept that what happened wasn’t my fault. That I was just a kid. That I can honor her memory without destroying myself in the process.”
“That’s beautiful.” Nora squeezed his hand. “I’m so proud of you for doing that work.”
“Couldn’t do it without you. You’re the reason I wanted to change. Wanted to be better.”
“You were always worth it, Carson. You just needed to believe it.”
They stayed up late talking about dreams and plans. About the promotion Carson was considering—lead detective would mean more responsibility but also slightly better hours. About Nora’s plans to hire an assistant. About the housethey wanted to buy eventually, something with a yard and space to grow.
About kids. Maybe. Someday. When they were ready.
“I never thought I’d want that,” Nora admitted. “A family. After growing up the way I did, I never thought I’d be a good parent.”
“You’d be an amazing parent,” he told her again. “Patient. Kind. Understanding in ways people who had perfect childhoods could never be.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” He pulled her closer. “But no rush. We have time. Years. We’ll figure it out.”
“I like taking things slow with you. Like we’re building something intentionally instead of rushing.”
“Me too. We’ve done enough rushing. Now we get to do it right.”
***
