This is something deeper.
This is anchoring.
When Maddie finally falls asleep, Natalie brushes a hand over her forehead and tucks the blanket under her chin.
“Is she good?” I ask quietly.
“She’s good.”
We close the door gently.
Downstairs, she loads the dishwasher with the plates. I grab a towel and dry the pots and pans without being asked.
The house hums softly. Refrigerator. Dishwasher. Daisy shifting in her sleep.
We move around each other easily. Too easily.
I clear my throat.
“That party.”
Her shoulders go still for half a second.
“Two years ago?” she asks without turning.
“Yeah.”
She sets the plate down slowly. “That’s random.”
“Not really.”
Silence settles. Not heavy. Just aware.
“You remember it,” I say.
“I remember you leaning too close on the balcony,” she replies. “I remember Mason hovering like a security system.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “He was three beers in and watching me like I was about to steal government property.”
“You were,” she says lightly.
I step closer, leaning my hip against the counter. “I wanted to kiss you.”
She finally turns.
Her eyes glance up to mine. Steady.
“I know,” she says.
“You do?”
“I’m not oblivious.”
I study her face. “Did you want me to?”
She holds my gaze this time. “Yes,” she says, honest and steady. “I wanted you to.”
Something moves in my pants.
