“Hey,” I manage, my voice coming out a little rough.
This isn’t the scene I was expecting to walk into. They look… good. Happy, even. Including Vince. Not perfect or fake-smiley good, but—relaxed. Present. Alert. Not curled in on himself in the bed.
I kiss Georgie’s head on the way by, setting my lunchbox on the table.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Vince says. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah. That’s… that’s great. I skipped lunch, so I’m starving.” I didn’t have the stomach to eat earlier, too anxious about Vince and too eager to get through the day.
Georgie sighs. “Vince wouldn’t let me help with the sauce. He said I’d ruin it.”
“Dressing,” Vince corrects gently. “It’s called dressing. And I didn’t say you’d ruin it. I said you’d over-season it. There’s a difference.”
She snorts. “It’ssalad. It’s already ruined.”
I bite back a laugh, slowly turning my attention to Vince, afraid that any sudden movement might spook this moment and send it vanishing. The house feels different—alive in a way it hasn’t in a few days. I hadn’t realized how quiet it had become until now. How dread has slowly sucked the life out of it.
Shrugging off my jacket, I drape it over a chair. My eyes track Vince the whole time—the way he moves, the way his shoulders aren’t as stiff as they were this morning, the way he hums softly under his breath as he tosses the salad. This doesn’t look like the spiral I walked away from. Not even close. But Vince is good at hiding things behind a mask.
Maybe too good.
Is he really okay, or is he just putting on a show for Georgie?
He watches Georgie play another melody on her guitar, nodding along. “Okay, now…” He stops when Georgie changes her hand position. “Perfect! Good job.”
She grins proudly. “You should give me real lessons.”
Vince pauses, then slowly nods. “Sure. That could be fun. Give me time and I’ll put something together for you.”
“Maybe Avalon too? She wants to learn.”
He shrugs. “Why not? You both catch on quickly.”
The world seems to freeze. Vince is talking about the future. About staying. And as much as I want to lean into that, I don’t trust it yet either.
Not fully.
I rub my chest, only now realizing how tightly I have been holding myself together. The thought of himstayingmakes me ache. Vince wouldn’t be talking about the future if he wanted to leave, right?
I cling to that hope as I step closer, snagging a crouton from the bowl. “Smells amazing.”
“Mm-hmm. Don’t flatter me with false praise,” he says with a soft grin. “You’re the one who made it.”
“Hey, it’s not burnt.”
His mouth quirks. “Yet.” He reaches for the oven mitts. “I should probably take it out.”
Before opening the oven, he leans in to kiss my cheek, lips lingering. My belly swoops, and I reach for him before I can stop myself.
Georgie hops down from the stool. “I’m gonna head out before you two get all weird and couple-y.”
“Do your chores,” I say out of habit.
“Already done.” She slings her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be back later.”
The quiet that follows is different from the one I was bracing for. I’m not sure how to read it.
Vince gives me a small smile. “Let’s talk later, okay?”
