He cleared his throat, glancing quickly at his wife. “Except for you, of course, my dear.”
I stood there, suddenly hyperaware of my hands, my posture, my face. Was I supposed to laugh? Deflect? Thank him? With this family, it felt like there might be a correct response and I was already a step behind.
Then everyone else started laughing. Everyone, including his wife.
“Nice job trying to save yourself, Dad,” Caleb teased. “You almost fooled her.”
“What?” Glenn scoffed. “I’m allowed to notice these things. She’s a lovely girl. And your mother knows how much I adore her.”
“Mom also knows how to lock you out of the bedroom.” Eric was clearly enjoying himself.
Sylvie flushed but waved it off. “Oui, but your father also knows to properly beg forgiveness. He’s never spent an entire night on the couch.”
“Eww.” Caleb’s nose scrunched up. “TMI, Mom. T. M. Freakin’ I.”
Laughter filled the room, easy and unrestrained, washing away the last of my awkwardness and loosening the knot in my chest.
This wasn’t what I’d expected. Eric’s parents weren’t stiff or formal. They were relaxed, playful even. Open with their affection, teasing each other like people who’d spent years choosing each other again and again.
And the way they folded their sons into that warmth and affection felt effortless.
Standing in the middle of it was strange. Not wrong, just…bigger than what I was used to.
My world was small by necessity. It was just me and Hunter, everything contained and manageable.
This was different. More people, more voices, more love moving in all directions at once.
And it felt good to be inside it, even if just for that moment.
I let myself fall into their easy rhythm—light conversation about weather and headlines. The boys spun into a spirited baseball debate while Sylvie and I exchanged knowing looks like we’d done this a hundred times before.
It was laid-back. Happy, even.
We hadn’t forgotten where we were, but for a few minutes, the weight lifted enough to let something hopeful slip in. As if somehow, we all knew we’d be okay.
Maybe.
The conversation lulled and I cleared my throat. “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander, but I should be going. I just wanted to pop in and say hello to Caleb.”
“Please. You make me feel ancient. First names are fine, mon ange.” Sylvie’s voice was warm with invitation. “I hope these rowdy boys didn’t scare you off. Having another woman around is nice. You cannot stay?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s been wonderful, but I should get back to my father. The nurses can’t seem to get him to eat anything, and I thought I might try.”
They didn’t need my problems. Not on top of everything else they were carrying. And yet the words kept coming, tumbling out before I could stop them.
“He probably won’t eat for me either. He’s dying, but he’s still the most stubborn person I know. He doesn’t want me here, but I figure maybe I can blackmail him into eating if I promise to leave when he’s done.”
They all stared like I’d grown an extra head. And really, who could blame them?
Heat crept up my neck.
Once again, I was too damn much. I’d taken something light and dropped it straight into the deep end.
“You shouldn’t give up.” Glenn’s voice was thoughtful. “I’m sure he wants you here, but perhaps he’s feeling vulnerable. Parents are meant to be the caregivers. Accepting a reversal like that can be…difficult.”
“Yeah,” Caleb agreed. “And he’s probably scared.”
The word scared lodged somewhere deep and stayed there.
