Her silence speaks volumes—and I don’t know how to translate it. She could be thinking about nothing. Or everything.
When we park, Millie is out of the car in an instant, getting Aura out of her car seat. I watch as she gently picks her up, whispering sweet things to my daughter, and my heart melts.
“Hello my sweets, we are finally here,” Millie says, her voice warm and full of affection.
Aura’s little face scrunches for a second, then she breaks into the sweetest, gummiest grin. Millie chuckles, kissing the top of her head. I feel a soft tug in my chest, the ache of love for both of them.
Like my daughter, my favorite days of the week are when Millie is sleeping in my guest bedroom with my daughter.
I approach them, but as soon as I reach for Aura, she lets out a loud cry, her arms reaching for Millie.
I freeze, and Millie glances up at me with a sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” she says gently. “She’s been super clingy lately. I can’t get her to sleep at night unless I’m holding her the whole time.”
“It’s all good, Bumper,” I say, trying to play it cool. But inside, I’m just grateful that Millie is so involved in Aura’s life. Leaving for work is never easy, but I at least have peace of mind knowing Aura is so comfortable with Millie.
We spend the rest of the morning weaving between splash pads and lazy rivers. Millie holds Aura against her chest while I guide them gently through the shallow end of the wave pool. Aura coos and kicks with delight, her tiny hands slapping the water, and Millie beams every time she does.
Watching them together is like watching the life I didn’t knowI could want. It’s a glimpse into something better than I ever imagined for myself. A real family.
We spend the rest of the morning playing in the water, and while I focus on having fun with Aura, I can’t ignore the way Millie’s bikini hugs her body, or how close we are, standing next to each other in the water. It takes everything in me not to get hard on the spot.
When Millie suggests we move to the larger pool, I’m almost relieved. At least in the bigger pool, there will be more room for me to focus on Aura without getting distracted by how beautiful Millie looks under the sun. I can’t help but start daydreaming about her.
Millie snaps me out of my daydream when she reappears with the baby floaties, and I try to push all thoughts of her away as we float in the pool.
This is Aura’s first time in water that isn’t her bubble bath. I am pleased with how comfortable she is in the water, but it also scares the life out of me. If anything were to happen, I wouldn’t know how to live. I make a mental note to sign her up for water safety lessons.
“Ahh, the water is so nice. I could be in here all day,” Millie says, tilting her head back into the water.
I gulp back the feeling to jump on her, attacking her with a kiss. I’ve had these strong feelings for Millie since the day she bumped into me at her cafe. The more time I spend around Millie, the more Reuben’s words shine through, and I fall for her more each day.
Millie slips as she leans back, and without thinking, I reach out, grabbing her to steady her. My hands graze her skin, and the moment she looks up at me with those wide, innocent eyes, my heart stops, making me hard. Her beautiful smile fades, and she pulls away quickly.
“Well, it’s getting close to Miss Aura’s nap time,” she says, pushing the floatie toward the steps. “What do you say? Should we headhome?”
I swallow hard, trying to calm myself down. This feeling between us—it’s so strong, so undeniable. But I know I can’t act on it.
At least not yet.
* * *
The ride home is peaceful, but the tension in the air is thick. I glance over at Millie once, twice—trying to gauge what she’s thinking. She’s looking out the window again, her brows slightly furrowed, lips pursed like she’s deep in thought.
I want to say something. Ask her what’s wrong. Reach over and grab her hand. But I’m too much of a coward to break the silence.
The silence breaks when my phone rings, and Bluetooth announces it’s my mom calling.
“Ciao, Mamma. Comportati bene, ho compagnia1,” I say, giving her a quick warning.
“Mio figlio, who is it?” my mom exclaims dramatically.
Millie laughs beside me, and I glance at her, a smile tugging at my lips.
“Hello, Mrs. Sirolli!” Millie greets my mom, clearly unfazed by the over-the-top Italian drama that always accompanies my mother’s phone calls.
My mom’s voice fills the car, her excitement at hearing from Millie clear. “Ah, amore mio, how are you? The cafe is officially open, yes?”
