“What? Just asking how you’re settling in.”
“I’m fine,” I say firmly. “Got the house, got work, got her. That’s all I need.”
The doorbell rings, its chime cutting through the chatter. Mum’s head snaps up.
“That’ll be the cake,” she says with a strange little smile that makes me suspicious. “Aidan, be a dear and answer that, would you?”
I frown but head for the door. When I pull it open, I nearly stop breathing.
Lucy’s standing on the doorstep, a large white box balanced carefully in her hands. Her dark hair is loose today, falling in soft waves. She’s wearing a sand-colored sweater that brings out the green in her eyes, and for a second, I just stare.
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft. “Special delivery.”
“You’re…delivering the cake?”
“I am.” She shifts the box slightly. “Your mum ordered it. For Isla.”
“Right,” I finally manage. “Come in.”
“Actually, would you mind taking this?” She gestures toward the box. “Keep it as level as possible until you put it down. I just need to run to my car to grab something.”
I take the box from her as gently as possible, waiting by the door until she returns with a bright pink gift bag overflowing with glittery tissue paper.
“You didn’t need to get her anything,” I tell her.
“Psh. Of course I did. I’ll take any excuse to go shopping for a little girl. It’s so much fun.”
I hum in response, trying not to jostle the cake box as I lead her through the house.
“Lucy!” Isla’s voice cuts through the chatter as she spots her, her face lighting up. She practically flies across the room, tutu fluttering behind her.
“Happy birthday, Isla,” Lucy beams, kneeling to meet my daughter at eye level, the gift bag held out. “I brought you something special.”
Isla’s eyes widen to saucers. “For me?”
“Of course.”
Something unfamiliar twists in my chest as I watch them together. Lucy treats Isla like she’s precious, not just humoring her the way adults sometimes do with children.
Just like that, something cracks open where I’ve spent years welding the pieces shut. It’s like the hinges of a door I swore would stay closed giving way. I try to slam it back shut, but it’s too damn late.
Allowing myself to feel anything for Lucy is reckless and stupid. She’s just being kind, but…the way she looks at Isla, like she matters just for existing, isn’t something I can ignore.
“Aidan, the cake,” my mother reminds me.
“Right.” I carefully set the box on the dining table where Mum’s already laid out plates and napkins. As I lift the lid, there’s a collective gasp.
The cake is…unreal. It’s shaped like a fairy garden, with tiny mushroom houses nestled among what looks like a forest. In the center sits a fairy, wings dusted with glitter. The attention to detail is astonishing.
Isla gasps, pressing her hands to her cheeks.
My eyes lift to find Lucy, who’s watching Isla’s reaction with barely contained delight.
“You made this?” I ask her.
She nods, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I used to do more custom work years ago. It was fun to get back into it.”
“It’s incredible. You’re talented,” I tell her honestly. “Thank you.”
