I don’t even care. I pull her close, breathing in sugar and strawberry shampoo and the moment I almost missed.
My past will always be part of me.
Corawill always be part of me.
But this — sticky fingers, loud laughter, ice cream before ten in the morning — this is my life now.
And I’m done watching it from a church pew.
CHAPTER FORTY
HAYDEN
By the timewe pull into the driveway, the house is dark except for the porch light.
Presley is slumped against the car window, a smear of powdered sugar still faintly visible on her cheek from the funnel cake she insisted counted as a “late lunch.” Jemmy’s mouth hangs open in his car seat, fingers still curled around the cheap plastic dinosaur he refused to part with at the arcade.
Ice cream for breakfast turned into the park. The park turned into letting Presley pick the loudest, most chaotic trampoline park in the area. That somehow turned into pizza at the arcade.
We walked a shelter dog named Groucho Barx. Played mini golf. I let Presley bury me in snow at the playground like she used to when she was four. I pushedJemmy on the swings until my arms ached and he shrieked with laughter.
For the first time in over a year, it felt like we were a family again.
Except Rowan isn’t technically part of that family.
But she was woven through every part of today.
And with every passing day, it’s getting harder to imagine my life without her in it.
I step out of the car quietly and open Presley’s door first. She doesn’t stir when I lift her into my arms. She’s getting heavier these days. Taller. Growing faster than I’m ready for.
Rowan moves around to the other side and carefully unbuckles Jemmy, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before lifting him, his head lolling against her shoulder.
I carry Presley upstairs and somehow manage to wrestle her into pajamas without waking her fully before pulling her blankets over her. I brush her hair back from her face and press a kiss to her forehead. Then I quietly close her door and head toward Jemmy’s room, planning to take over for Rowan.
But when I reach his doorway, I pause at the sight of her holding Jemmy close, swaying as she hums. His head rests on her shoulder, one tiny hand tangled in her hair.
There’s something so natural about the way she moves. The way she leaves a soft kiss on his head. The way she carefully lowers him into the crib, resting her hand over his heart for a beat.
It does something to me.
Not lust.
Not even desire.
Something bigger.
Something I’m scared to name.
She turns and startles slightly when she sees me watching. Then a small smile tugs on her lips, and she slips into the hallway, closing Jemmy’s door quietly behind her.
“Well,” she says softly, walking into my embrace. “Have you decided?”
“On what?”
“Your own yes day.” She rises onto her toes and brushes her lips against mine. “Or, more accurately, yes night. What’s first on your list?”
“Well, I’ve had some time to think about it. Came up with quite a few ideas throughout the day.”
