“Huh, impressive skill,” I said, dropping scoops of ice cream into the blender. “You think she’ll like chocolate or strawberry?”
“Um,” she said, pondering over the decision for a moment. “Both.”
I shook my head, catching myself smiling as I poured milk into the blender.
I wish I could say it was the first time my thoughts drifted to her, but they had been persistent and frequent since the night of Cami and Hunter’s wedding. I’d been thinking about Dani more than I wanted to admit. About her uninterrupted laugh, the way she had knelt beside Harper with total patience, no trace of condescension, just genuine warmth. And the way something in my chest had loosened when she looked at me across that diner table, like I had forgotten for a second I was supposed to stay guarded.
When she’d answered Harper’s FaceTime call earlier in the week without hesitation, she hadn’t sounded annoyed or distracted. Instead, she was amused, kind. It shouldn’t have meant much, but it did. Harper was my world, all that I had left. Seeing her happy made everything feel worth it.
After Elena died, I’d built my life around Harper. Not in the helicopter-parent way, but in theI don’t know what else to dowith my handskind of way. I had no idea what I was doing when she came into the world. All I knew was that I couldn’t mess it up. So I leaned into the only thing I knew: structure, routine, and predictability. If I kept things structured enough, maybe the grief wouldn’t knock the wind out of me when I least expected it. That was how I survived the unfiltered ache of missing someone who should’ve been here enjoying it all with me.
Control was how I survived.
“Daddy,” Harper said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’re zoning.”
“Sorry, kiddo. Thinking about the flavor ratios.”
She squinted suspiciously. “Thinking about Ms. Dani.”
I tried and failed not to grin. “Harper…”
“You were smiling like this.” She contorted her face into a goofy expression somewhere between heart-eyes and indigestion.
I stared for a moment, caught off-guard by her mimicry. Harper’s enthusiasm always had a way of breaking through any facade I tried to maintain.
“Not funny” I said lightly. She was digging and hoping for things I could never give her.
The blender roared to life, drowning out her giggles. When I turned it off, she was already climbing down from her stool to grab the sprinkles.
“Daddy?” she said, serious again. “Ms. Dani makes you different.”
My throat tightened. “Different how?”
“Happy different.”
The words hit me right in the sternum.
I paused, hand hovering over the whipped cream. “Yeah?”
“At the breakfast, you forgot to be sad,” she said simply.
There wasn’t anything I could say to that. So I just smiled and brushed a curl from her forehead. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”
She grinned. “I know.”
When Dani knocked a few minutes later, the house already smelled like chocolate and bad decisions.
Harper darted for the door, flinging it open before I could even dry my hands. “Ms. Dani!”
Dani stood in the doorway, sunlight behind her. Her hair was loose and wavy like it’d been twisted up all day, and she wore a soft cream blouse tucked into jeans. She looked effortlessly put-together in that way that made it difficult to look away.
As she stepped past me, a hint of something bright followed her. It was fruity, floral, and warm without being sweet.
“Hey, troublemaker,” she said, crouching to Harper’s level. “I heard we’re having a milkshake party.”
“Yep! Daddy’s the blender guy. I’m the boss. You’re the taster.”
Dani looked up at me with a grin. “I like this chain of command.”
