The second came a week later, when I realized that Dani was sitting at my kitchen table late at night, case files spread out like controlled chaos, felt… right. Like something I could get used to. And when I walked in and saw it all packed away, her presence gone from the space, I felt the absence before I even let myself acknowledge it.
Now, lying here with her curled against me, I feel it again—stronger, harder to ignore.
Her hand drifts across my chest, settling there without intention, like instinct. Like she’s already used to being close to me.
And that’s what makes this dangerous.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Because this is how attachment forms—not in grand moments, but in the small, quiet ones. The brush of her shoulder against mine in the kitchen, the way she refolded my shirt because she noticed it out of place, the way she fits into the rhythm of my life without asking permission. It builds before you realize it’s happening, weaving itself in until it’s impossible to separate.
And attachment is something I swore I’d be careful with.
Not just for me.
For Harper.
If this were just about Dani and me, it would be easier. But it’s not. Harper is always part of the equation.
My gaze drops to Dani again. Her lashes rest softly against her cheeks, her breathing even and unguarded. There’s a faint crease between her brows, like her mind is still working even in sleep.
Lawyer brain, she called it once.
Always thinking. Always analyzing.
Except tonight.
Tonight, she trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms like she didn’t have to think at all.
And me?
I stopped fighting the idea of her.
The realization doesn’t hit all at once. It settles in, constant and inevitable.
Not like lightning.
More like gravity.
I’m falling in love with her.
The girl I told myself was too young, too bright, too much of everything I didn’t have room for… is now everything I don’t know how to live without.
The truth lands hard, physical. My chest tightens, my heartbeat kicking against my ribs, my breath catching as everything narrows to this moment—her beside me, her hand over my heart, a sense of certainty I couldn’t ignore anymore.
Because I’ve known it longer than I wanted to admit.
It’s in the way my body reacts when she walks into a room—not just attraction, but recognition. It’s in the way I listen when she talks, the way I notice when she’s tired, the way my chest shifts when she laughs with Harper.
I glance down at her again.
She’s beautiful.
Not in the loud way that demands attention, but in the kind that stays with you. The softness in her expression when she smiles, the way her mouth curves when she’s amused, the way she challenges me without hesitation.
That part still surprises me.
