Page 48 of Scars and Crowns

Of course she doesn't.

That's my girl.

Halfway through the doorway . . . She suddenly stops. Spins around. And waves at us with both arms. So enthusiastically that I laugh through the sting gathering behind my eyes.

I wave back until she disappears into the corridor. Only then do I finally lower my hand. Only then do I realise how tightly I've been holding myself together since we left home.

My shoulders slowly relax.

Beside me, Yuvaan waits quietly.

He doesn't rush the moment. He doesn't fill the silence. He simply stands there with me. When he finally speaks, his voice is warm enough to make me smile before I've even processed the words. "Come on."

I glance at him.

"Let's go eat ice cream."

The suggestion is so wonderfully ordinary that I actually laugh. "Ice cream?"

He shrugs. "Our daughter started school." He says it as though that naturally explains everything. "I think that deserves a celebration."

The words wrap themselves around my heart before I can stop them.

Our daughter.

He says it so effortlessly now. As though he has always belonged in that sentence. He notices my smile. Then study me for another second. "You're already missing her."

It's not really a question. I don't bother pretending otherwise. I nod. My lower lip probably does something embarrassingly childish because amusement flickers across his face. "She's all I have."

The confession leaves quietly. "So . . . " I look back toward the school gates. "It feels strange." I laugh weakly. "Not being able to check whether she's alright every five minutes."

"I know." His answer comes almost immediately. Something passes briefly across his face. Gone before I can understand it. Then he smiles. "But . . . " His voice softens. "You have me now."

Such a simple sentence. Four ordinary words. Yet somehow . . . they settle deep inside me.

Before I can think of a reply, he reaches over. His fingers gently find mine. No hesitation. No awkwardness. No grand gesture.

He simply takes my hand. As though this has always been where it belongs. As though he isn't even aware he's done it. And then . . .He starts walking toward the waiting car . . . Still holding my hand.

I let him. I don't trust myself to speak. Every bit of my attention has narrowed to one impossibly small thing. His hand around mine. Warm. Steady. Certain.

I glance down once. Then again. Just to make sure it's real. Two people. Walking side by side down an ordinary road. On their way to eat ice cream because their daughter started school. Nothing about the moment is extraordinary. And somehow . . . Everything about it is. A month ago I couldn't have imagined this life even if someone had asked me to.

Now I'm living it. Slowly. Carefully. One ordinary morning at a time. I look at our joined hands again, a smile finding me before I can stop it. And for the first time in years . . . I allow myself one dangerous, beautiful thought.

I hope this isn't a dream.

Because if it is . . . I'd like to stay asleep just a little while longer.

DAISY’S BOOKS

YUVAAN

"I finally have the work I want you to do." I'd said it as casually as I could manage that morning. "Be ready in an hour. Meet me at the front gate."

That was all. No explanation. No hints. Nothing.

She'd frowned at me immediately. That familiar little crease had appeared between her brows, the one that always shows up whenever she suspects I'm planning something but hasn't yet decided whether she's curious enough to ask or annoyed enough to refuse.