She slides me a look. “Splittingandriding?”
If I wasn’t hard as steel before, I am now.
Sweating a little myself too. “Not at the same time.”
Her carefree laugh settles in my soul, and I lock it away to remember it later.
Because there will be alater.
When she goes back to her normal life and I go back to—fuck if I know right now.
Something.
But that’s a tomorrow problem.
Not something I’ll let ruin today.
She was right yesterday.
I deserve to live, and I shouldn’t hide the rest of my life out of fear of pain.
I lean against the counter and watch her while I sip my coffee, the music the perfect touch to finish off this cozy morning.
Margot’s art in motion.
Far more proficient in a kitchen than she lets on, if the way she’s cracking eggs one-handed is any indication.
“My mom was my hero,” I say quietly as she shreds cheese over the first omelet in the pan.
She slides me a look. “Yeah?”
“Didn’t do it on purpose, I don’t think, but she taught me badass women are the best women.”
Margot’s smile softens. “She was a badass?”
“Ran a tight ship in a male-dominated field, and also made me pancakes on Saturday mornings and put notes in my lunchbox every day.”
“My parents taught me my worth was dependent on my success, and they didn’t like that I wanted to hang out in the kitchen to watch our chef cook.”
“I’ll still like you if these taste like shit.”
She doesn’t laugh. “You’re a testament to what an amazing person your mother must’ve been.”
I absently rub my chest, right over my heart. “Past year hasn’t felt like it.”
“Something I learned watching Daphne—everything’s temporary. Good times, bad times, happiness, sadness. We’re never onething. We’re all complicated messes doing our best in whatever situations we find ourselves in, and most of us are good at our cores. I don’t need to have known your mom to know she would’ve understood that too. Here. How’s this look?”
She slides the first omelet onto a plate, and my mouth waters so hard I almost drool. “Like a fairy princess cooked me a magic breakfast.”
Her smile hits me in the heart.
The way she goes up on tiptoe and hooks a hand behind my neck to kiss me softly does far more damage than a simple hit though.
She tastes like everything that’s been missing in my life.
And I need to keep perspective.
Appreciate this for what it is, not what it can’t be.
