Cosette, with our baby tucked up against her shoulder. Sitting in moonlight in a rocking chair. Singing her little songs in that voice of hers full of bravado and hope and so much joy.
Christmas with just the three of us, snow falling outside our window.
Morning coffee and evening walks.
A warm place to come home to and a soft place to land.
Us.
“So what are we doing today?” she asks, tucking her long legs under her and lifting the vase so she can inhale the scent of her flowers before she continues to eat.
“I have an informant I need to talk to later. But before then, we’re heading to see my family.”
She pauses with a piece of toast lifted to her mouth. “Your family?”
I brush a crumb off her lip and slide it into my own mouth. “My family. Thayer and Savannah are in town. They want to see you and I want to tell Maman about the baby.”
Cosette’s hands drop to her lap, the food forgotten. “Lyam. Oh my God, I can’t face Savannah.”
I know it’ll hurt her to do this, but I know she has to.
“Listen, baby, Savannah’s good people. You can trust her. All you have to do is tell her what you told me, and she’ll understand.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You absolutely can, sweetheart. I promise. I’ll be there with you. Thayer knows and he understands, too, and after you’ve put all this behind you, you’ll feel so much better about things. Think about how excited Maman will be about the baby.” I sit down beside her and reach for her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Listen. I know this is hard for you. I want you to know I’m sympathetic to that. But I also know that facing this will make things so much better for both of us in the long run.”
She squares her shoulders and looks at me. “I can do it,” she says with a confident nod. “I don’t want to, but I’m not going to run anymore, Lyam. I’ve got a baby to think about now. And I need to do what’s in that baby’s best interest. Our baby needs family and cousins and aunts and uncles and a grandmother who will spoil them to death.”
I smile at her. “Absolutely. And I’m proud of you, baby. Now put those hands in your lap and let me feed you.”
I lift the last piece of toast and put it in her mouth. Chewing and swallowing, then sipping some coffee, she sighs. “I’ve missed this.”
“What?”
“The way you are with me.”
“And what way’s that?”
“Insanely protective, dominant as fuck, and so…” she sighs contentedly. “Focused.”
“Focused?”
“Yes. Like when I’m with you, there’s no one else in the room. I mean, you don’t miss anything that could hurt either one of us, but you also don’t let anything distract you. If I’m talking to you, there’s no scrolling on your phone or cruising the web or ignoring me. You’rehyper-focused onme,like I matter. Ilovethat.” She shrugs. “Makes me feel special.”
Special? God, of course she’s special.
“That’s because you are,” I say matter-of-factly. “You should know that.”
She grows quiet as she picks at a piece of crust on her plate. “I dunno. You have your shit and I have mine, you know?”
I do know. The question is, is she willing to talk to me about hers?
“You want to tell me anything?”
“No,” she says with a sad smile. “I mean, I do. When do we have to leave?”
“Thirty minutes.”
