It’s Sunday morning, and I’m standing in Zayden’s kitchen making pancakes.
Not just any pancakes—dinosaur pancakes. Maisie informed me very seriously that round pancakes are “boring” and dinosaurs are “scientifically superior.” She’s currently perched on a stool at the counter, supervising my technique with the intensity of a tiny Gordon Ramsay.
“The T-Rex needs bigger arms,” she says.
“T-Rexes have tiny arms. That’s their whole thing.”
“But he looks sad with tiny arms.”
“Maybe heissad. It’s hard being an apex predator who can’t reach things.”
She considers this. “Can you give him a friend? So he’s not lonely?”
I add a blobby shape next to the T-Rex that’s supposed to be a triceratops but looks more like a lumpy potato with horns. “There. Now he has a buddy.”
“Perfect.”
Zayden appears in the kitchen doorway, hair still damp from the shower, wearing gray sweatpants that should be illegal and a faded Canadiens T-shirt. He takes in the scene—me at the stove, Maisie on her stool, batter splattered across the counter—and a tender look crosses his face.
“Please tell me there’s coffee and that one of those dinosaurs is for me.”
“Of course,” I answer.
“Tori’s teaching me about dinosaur feelings,” Maisie adds.
“Dinosaur feelings.” He reaches for a coffee mug, brushing up against me.
“They have them, Daddy. Even the scary ones.”
He catches my eye over her head, and I shrug. “She’s not wrong. Emotional intelligence is important across all species.”
“Even extinct ones?”
“Especially extinct ones. They never got closure.”
He laughs—that low, warm sound I’m becoming addicted to—and crosses to the coffee maker. His hand brushes the small of my back as he passes, casual and intimate, and I feel it everywhere.
Part of me still can’t believe this is real. That I’m standing in Zayden Bishop’s kitchen, covered in pancake batter, falling deeper every day.
My phone buzzes on the counter. I flip the triceratops—nailed it—and check the screen.
Winnie:GUESS WHO OFFICIALLY STARTS MONDAY
Winnie:Dana just emailed. I’m in. Team yoga instructor. This is real life!!!
Winnie:I’m going to throw up. In a good way.
I grin and type back a quick response.
Me:You’re going to be amazing. The guys don’t know what’s coming for them.
Winnie:Challenge accepted.
I pocket my phone, still smiling. Winnie starting with the team is the best news I’ve heard all week. She’ll be brilliant—she’s always been brilliant—and maybe now she can rebuild everything Derek tried to tear down.
“Good news?” Zayden asks, handing me a cup of coffee made exactly how I like it. He remembered. Of course he remembered.
“Winnie got the job. She starts Monday.”
