It’s not possible, but I nod, accepting the sentiment. “I missed you too,” I admit. “Our routines…”
“Waking up to each other,” he supplies.
“I usually woke up first.”
He chuckles. “You did. Are you sleeping in late here? I hope so.”
“I am. It feels strange, but no one here asks for anything from me.”
“Wonderful,” he says. “Then there’s nothing to do than let yourself rest.”
His hand leaves mine and lowers to my abdomen, sliding downwards slowly.
“You’ve been holding yourself together through a lot,” he says. “Taking care of yourself isn’t indulgent, okay, Em? It’snecessary.”
I stare up at him, taking in his patient gaze, and lift my hand toward him in return, reaching for his chest.
But before either of us can speak, voices carry down the hall.
“—we definitely need to replenish after that round,” Kaye says, her words echoing.
She rounds the corner with Damon. His jacket hangs open, andthere are lipstick stains along his jaw.
Idris turns toward them. “Good timing, you two,” he says. “Lunch appears to be ready.”
We move together into the dining room, while Kaye keeps talking, quite flippant. “Sorry if you heard anything from our room. We’re trying out a new bed. Dae keeps breaking them.”
Idris lifts his brows as he smiles, looking unsure how to proceed, so I simply sit across from him while Damon engages him in a whispered conversation.
Soon, the others join in turn. Lunch fills the dining room with sound and motion.
Darius sits on the far end, his posture rigid and his expression fixed in its usual displeasure. Idris, on the other hand, carries the table effortlessly and excuses his brother’s behavior by mentioning how much Darius must miss his newborn son, whom he’s had to be away from since February. Darius doesn’t say anything about the matter, simply keeping to himself as he eats.
During the otherwise lively lunch, Idris matches Kaye’s clever comebacks, tossing back clever observations of his own that easily earn laughter from many of us. He also pivots seamlessly when Stan cuts in with something vulgar enough to make half the table groan.
“Will you ever grow up?” Damon asks, scowling at his youngest brother.
Stan grins, unbothered. “Sure I will, the day you get that stick outta your ass.”
Sterling snorts, nearly silent, while he feeds Elle a spoonful of soup she can only manage to keep down this afternoon.
Lix sits at my right. He keeps an eye on my plate. When he leans in to do it, his hand finds my thigh beneath the table, a brief pat that lines heat along my leg.
On my left, Stan’s large arm rests comfortably over my shoulders,a bit heavy but too warm and comforting to tell him to remove it. He talks loudly, gesturing with his free hand.
Across the table, Idris watches me. His smile appears appreciative. My cheeks heat up despite my best effort to remain composed.
The attention comes from all sides, yet no one comments on it. The conversation flows as if this configuration is plainly allowed, as if this level of closeness between four people among others is ordinary. At the thought, I find myself smiling, listening rather than speaking, and letting the moment carry me, instead of me needing to control it.
After lunch, Damon takes most of the men to his study for some whiskey. Sterling doesn’t join them in favor of caring for Elle while she’s experiencing some discomfort.
Kaye climbs on Damon’s back, demanding to be part of what she calls “boys’ time but sober for me and the twins I’m carrying.”
Damon is smirking and doesn’t seem to have the wherewithal to convince her otherwise.
Lix, Stan, and Idris check on me in their own ways before I wave them off, to show them I’ll be alright without them needing to attend to me.
“You don’t wanna join, Em?” Kaye asks.
