I slid an arm around her without even thinking and kissed her right back, slow and easy, like this was something we did all the time now.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Always,” she said, smiling.
I guided her over to the table where I’d already set out a mug of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a couple of ibuprofen tablets waiting like a quiet promise of care.
She glanced down at it all and laughed softly. “You really are perfect, you know that?”
I just grinned up at her, heart full and stupid and completely, hopelessly gone.
Yeah. I was head over heels.
The door slammed open so hard it rattled the frame.
“Dad!”
Leo barreled in first, a blur of limbs and excitement, and wrapped himself around my waist like a human missile. “Mom told us not to come,” he announced proudly, “but I knew you’d be making pancakes and you wouldn’t mind.”
I laughed, bending down to hug him back. “You were absolutely correct.”
Ava was right behind him, already climbing into a chair at the table like she owned the place. Eleanor watched the whole thing with that soft, glowing smile that made my chest feel too small for my heart.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Becca.
I answered it, still grinning. “Hey.”
“I told him not to go,” she said apologetically, “but he was already out the door. I figured . . . pancakes.”
“You figured right,” I said, looking at Leo, who was already reaching for a plate. “They’re always welcome.”
I hung up and turned back to the table with Eleanor, Ava, Leo, sunlight pouring through the window, coffee, pancakes, and laughter.
It felt . . . complete.
Yeah. I could get used to this.
40
ELEANOR
By the time we were in the car, Ava had already launched into a full, breathless recap of everything that had happened while she’d been gone.
“—and then Leo made popcorn, but he burned some of it, and Becca said that still counted, and we watched three whole episodes of that show with the dogs, and tomorrow we’re going to the pool if it’s not raining, and Leo says he can totally do a flip now?—”
I nodded along, smiling, letting her words wash over me like a happy, babbling soundtrack. She was buckled into the back seat, sun-kissed and bright-eyed, summer stretching out in front of her like a promise.
Alex drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near mine. Every once in a while, he’d glance over with that soft, content look that made my chest ache in a good way.
Outside the windows, everything looked green and alive. Kids on bikes. Lawns dotted with sprinklers. The lazy glow of a warm morning that didn’t need to hurry anywhere.
Summer was here.
And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel lonely.
Ava kept talking about Leo, about pancakes, about all the important things a ten-year-old had to say, and I just listened, holding onto this quiet, precious feeling of something new taking root in my life.
“So how did practice go?” Ava asked from the back seat, finally pausing long enough to take a breath.
