Markie nodded. “BAD MOVE.”
I leaned back and rubbed my forehead. Bobby flashed me a satisfied grin. She knew something was coming. Unfortunately, she was correct.
The door closedbehind Bobbi and her mother, and the apartment settled into a quiet that felt almost startling after the chaos of game night.
Markie shuffled along the top of his enclosure and muttered to himself. “BAD MOVE.” He tucked his head under a wing.
Liam bent to gather the last of the game pieces from the rug. “I think she was winning.”
“She absolutely was.”
“You did sacrifice four sheep.”
I smiled despite myself. “That was tragic.”
He carried the box to the coffee table and began stacking the pieces neatly inside. His movements were calm and efficient. Familiar.
When he stood again, he moved into the kitchen without needing to ask where anything went. Plates into the sink. Cups rinsed. Dishwater running.
He had been doing that for months now.
Just stepping into the rhythm of my life as though he had always belonged there.
I leaned against the doorway and watched him.
His sleeves were pushed up slightly. His shoulders moved steadily while he rinsed a plate and set it into the rack.
Comfortable.
Safe.
The thought moved through me slowly and quietly like it had for a while now.
I loved him.
The thought coursed through me with a strange, calm certainty.
Five months ago, I would have panicked. I would have tried to dismantle it. Question it. Build a list of reasons why it was dangerous to love this man.
Now I just stood there, watching him wash dishes.
If I was being honest with myself, I would marry that man tonight.
Deeply suspicious behavior for someone with my history.
But the last five months had changed things.
Therapy had changed things.
Healing had changed things.
And Liam had changed things.
We were both still imperfect. Still figuring things out and working through habits that had taken years to build.
But we were growing.
Together.
