Aura begins to get fussy, and she wants one of two things. A bottle or a nap.
After two failed attempts at a bottle, I sit in the rocker and try to get her down for a nap, to no avail.
It’s not long before I hear Millie from downstairs.
“Gabriel! I’m here!” Millie calls up.
A rush of relief floods me, and I stand with Aura. As I walk downstairs, I already know what’s about to happen. As soon as Aura sees Millie, all tension will melt away.
Of course, I’m right.
Aura’s face lights up as soon as she spots Millie. She coos and kicks her little feet, and I swear, it’s like the two of them share some sort of unspoken bond. Millie leans down, smiling softly, and Aura reaches out for her, her tiny arms stretching like she’s trying to crawl to her.
“You have no idea how great your timing is, Bumper.” I sigh in relief.
“What do you mean?” she says in a high-pitched voice, looking at Aura like she’s the most precious thing in the world.
I catch myself, my heart twinging painfully at how they look together. And just like that, I realize—again—that it might not be the best idea to tell Millie how I feel. She’s too important to Aura. If I messed things up, if I ruined this delicate dynamic between us, I’d never forgive myself.
No matter what I feel, I need to keep my daughter’s happiness my top priority. Meaning I need to keep my feelings for Millie at bay.
“So, you found Grandma’s secret recipe and thought you could wing it without me, huh?” Millie says, teasing me as she walks toward the kitchen.
I shake my head. “Not exactly. I’m just hoping you can stop me from turning it into a disaster.”
She laughs softly. “Well, it smells good in here, so I don’t know why it would be a disaster.”
I can’t help but smile. “Thanks, Bumper. I did my best.”
Her eyes soften as she looks at me. “You’re not half bad in the kitchen, you know.”
I look away, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. She sets Aura in her bouncer and starts unpacking the ingredients.
I feel a pang of guilt for how nervous I’ve been around her lately. I want things to be easy, but my own feelings keep getting in the way.
I walk toward the island where Millie is carefully preparing the sauce.
“Look,” I say, my voice softening. “I’m sorry if I’ve been awkward or distant lately. I just?—”
Millie looks up at me with a knowing smile. “Gabriel, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”
I take a deep breath. “Thanks for coming over, Bumper. It means a lot.”
She shrugs playfully. “I wouldn’t miss it. Plus, I love a good Italian meal.”
We work side by side, the tension slowly easing between us as the kitchen fills with the smell of basil and tomato sauce.
“Look,” I say, my voice softening as I step a little closer. “I’m sorry. I was an ass earlier, and I shouldn’t have been so rude to you. Let me make it up to you. Stay. Eat with me.”
She pauses. Her hands still on the countertop, eyes focused on the jar she just finished labeling. When she finally looks up at me, there’s something in her gaze that makes my stomach twist. She’s hurt. And it’s my fault.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she breathes. Her voice is gentle but distant. “But thank you for the invitation.”
The pang in my chest tightens, sharp and unrelenting. I walk around the island, careful not to startle her, and gently lift her chin between my fingers.
“I don’t care if it’s not a good idea, Bumper. It’s killing me to see you upset—especially knowing I’m the reason. Please.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, she doesn’t speak. Then, slowly, she nods. “Okay, Gab. I’ll stay.”
