Page 62 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Maybe that was what he did now. Maybe he couldn’t protect her from the internet or Yale or her parents. But he could show up and be there for her.

Ten minutes later, after Tyler had reread the same sentence on the manuscript three times, and none of the words had sunk in, his phone finally buzzed.

Tyler’s chest tightened as he picked it up.

I wish I was there too. Tonight has just… not been good.

A pause, then another bubble appeared.

I tried to write. And nothing happened. Like my brain just… shut off. It’s terrifying. I hate it. Then I started to think about everything and… I don’t know. It sucks.

Tyler exhaled slowly, relief and worry tangling together until he couldn’t tell them apart.

He typed back before he could overthink it.

Then come here.

I’ll put on coffee in the morning and we’ll pretend the world can wait until after breakfast.

Robyn’s reply came quickly.

Okay. I’ll be there in ten.

Tyler was on his feet before he even set the phone down.

He moved through the house quietly, turning off the kitchen light, checking the front lock, making sure the hallway nightlight was on low. He walked past Emma’s room and paused, listening. Steady, soft breathing. Her stuffed animals were lined up along the pillow like they were guarding her dreams.

He went to his bedroom and pulled back the comforter, smoothing the sheets the way his mother used to when she was trying to make a house feel safe. He set a glass of water on the nightstand. Then he stood there like an idiot for a second, staring at the empty side of the bed.

It had been a long time since he’d wanted someone in his space like this.

Not for sex. Just for the simple comfort of each other.

He waited in the living room for Robyn’s headlights to light up the front window and then met her at the back door.

“Hi,” she whispered. Her hair was in a messy bun, and she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and pajama pants.

“Hi,” Tyler whispered back, as if the house itself might shush them.

Robyn kicked off her shoes and set her coat over the back of the chair. She looked around the quiet kitchen, the soft glow from the light above the sink, the faint hum of the dishwasher, the homeyness of it all.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “If this is weird.”

“It’s not,” Tyler said immediately. “It’s… good.”

Her throat bobbed. She nodded once, like she didn’t trust herself to speak.

Tyler led her down the hallway, careful with every step. In his room, he only turned on the bedside lamp, the light warm and low. Robyn stood there, arms folded lightly over herself, as if she didn’t know what to do.

Tyler shut his bedroom door softly behind them and moved to his side of the bed. “Here,” he murmured, voice low in the quiet house. “Come here.”

Robyn climbed onto the mattress and slid under the covers, taking off her glasses and setting them on the nightstand. Tyler switched off the lamp, leaving only a thin strip of light spilling in from the bathroom, just enough to turn the room into shadows and softness.

He eased in behind her, close but not crowding, and wrapped his arm around her waist like he was born to hold her. Robyn let out a shaky breath that turned into something like relief.

Tyler pressed his mouth to her hair, a small kiss that said what words couldn’t.

“I’m happy you came,” he whispered.