“I spent twenty minutes pretending to stretch while seriously considering whether crawling back into my van and driving off counted as personal growth.”
The table erupts in laughter.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love yoga. But there’s a time and a place for it. And it’s not five in the morning. But as I was attempting to contort my body into a one-legged pigeon pose, I don’t know…” She pushes out a breath, a peaceful smile tugging on her lips. “There was something about doing yoga as the sun rose that sparked something inside me. So since that day, I’ve tried to start every day by doing yoga as the sun rises. I’ve added it to my life list.”
“Your life list?” Joshua asks from beside her, leaning closer.
Closer than I’d like.
“It’s sort of like a bucket list, I guess. But small things. Nothing like snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef or seeing the penguins in Antarctica, as awesome as both of those experiences would be. But my life list is more about finding joy in the little things. Like watching the sun rise every morning. Or slowing down andsavoring that first cup of coffee. Or sleeping in on Sundays. Little things that can make your life feel…fuller.”
I watch her without meaning to. The way her hands move when she talks, expressive and sure. The way her eyes light up when talking about the things that excite her.
She’s everything I’m not.
“What about your family?” my mother asks. “They must miss you.”
Something shifts in Rowan’s expression. Her smile briefly falters. Her fingers tighten around her fork before she sets it down.
“I don’t really have that kind of relationship with my parents.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, dear,” Mom replies.
Rowan shrugs. “My father was more upset I quit my job at the law firm where he’s a senior managing partner,” she continues. “Couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to work sixteen-hour days on the off chance I’d make junior partner someday. The truth is, I only went to law school because I thought maybe it would give us something in common. Maybe he’d like me more.”
My chest tightens as I listen to her. She never told me about herself or her family. Then again, I never asked.
“My parents weren’t around much when I was growing up,” she explains. “I was basically raised by nannies. My mother was too busy with her socialite friends. And my father was always gone before I wokeup, and didn’t get home until after I went to bed. There was never any of this.”
She gestures around the table — the noise, the closeness, the way everyone genuinely cares for each other, even if we get on each other’s nerves at times.
It all clicks into place.
From the very beginning, Rowan pushed me to spend time with my kids. To sit down for dinner. To take mornings slow. I thought she was just trying to give them structure.
Now I realize she was trying to give them what she never had.
A parent who chose them.
“Well,” my mother begins softly, “you’re always welcome at my table. Consider yourself an honorary Lawrence.”
“Thank you.” Rowan gives her a sincere smile before shifting her gaze and landing on mine.
It lasts a heartbeat.
But in that single look, something passes between us. Recognition. Understanding. A quiet, dangerous intimacy that has nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with what we see in each other.
“What’s been your favorite place to visit so far?” Finn asks, and I force myself to look away.
“Sycamore Falls is definitely working its way to the top,” she replies, and I feel that stupid, traitorous flare of something warm in my chest. “But before I came here, I’d have to say Santa Fe.”
“Santa Fe?” Joshua presses.
“When I was a kid, I was obsessed withNewsies,” sheexplains. “Okay. I still am. And the main character is always talking about Santa Fe like it’s this magical place where all his troubles would magically disappear. I’d never been, so I went.”
“And?” Joshua asks, leaning in again.
And again, I have to resist the urge to shout at him to keep his distance.
