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I nodded, even though he was focused on driving, his eyes on the road ahead of us. “Yeah, I did,” I admitted, the words feeling so right.
“That’s the best news,” he said, his voice all kinds of warm and reassuring. Reaching over, he patted my knee in a gesture that was both comforting and congratulatory. “Welcome to the club.”
I chuckled, a mix of relief and happiness bubbling up inside me. It felt good to have his support, to know that he understood and was happy for me.
“It’s new, you know? And a bit scary,” I confessed, watching the scenery pass by. “But it feels right.”
Daniel glanced at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Love usually is. Scary, I mean. But it’s also the best thing you’ll ever experience.”
I thought about Noah and the quiet comfort and the sense of belonging I felt with him. “Yeah, itisthe best thing. And I’m just… really happy.”
As we drove on, the conversation drifted to other topics, but a sense of contentment settled over me. In sharing this part of my life with Daniel, and him not laughing me out of the car, it was like a final piece falling into place. I was where I was supposed to be, with people who mattered to me more than I could have ever imagined. For the first time in a long time, I was in love, and it was the best feeling in the goddamned world.
Daniel sailed right past my house, and I didn’t argue when he parked outside the diner.
“Lunch?” he asked, checking his watch. “I have thirty.”
“My treat. As a thank you for taking me to get my head fixed.”
He shot me a smile as if it meant nothing, but it meanteverything. Then, I stopped him with a hand on his arm, and he faced me. “Are you okay?” he asked, searching my face for a reason I’d stopped him from getting out of the car.
“Thank you for finding me that day in the bathroom.”
The words fell heavy into the quiet car, and Daniel turned in his seat to face me, then reached out and grasped my hand. “Thank you for making me see the real Micah, so I could fall back in love with him.”
We hugged awkwardly, and when we separated, I gave him a stern look. “And we never talk of this moment again.”
He held up his little finger, which I curled mine against. “Pinkie swear.”
* * *
After Danieland I finished our burgers, he had to go to the clinic, so he headed off, and when Noah caught me yawning, he suggested I head upstairs to relax on their sofa and refused to take no for an answer. I just wished that last week’s confrontation hadn’t wrecked my back so much or made my other knee twist because I needed help on the tight staircase, but Noah was right there, supporting me as I navigated the steps and reminding me that my current aches, incurred while helping Ainsley, warranted some special treatment.
Also, that he enjoyed looking after me, and asked if I wanted a bowl of ice cream.
Of course, I did.
I let him fuss, settling me on the sofa, helping me remove my prosthetic and placing it to the side. Then, with a bowl of chocolate ice cream, I was left alone with my thoughts, the quiet hum of the apartment, and the faint noise from the diner below. The combination of food, talking with Susan, taking low-grade pain medication, and snuggling up with a cozy blanket, soon lulled me into a snooze.
Only to be woken by Fox talking to me. I blinked up at him, recognizing a Scrabble board in one hand and a plate of snacks in the other. “We’re doing Scrabble; are you staying tonight?” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.
Before I could answer, Noah walked in, confirming with a smile. “Yeah, he’s staying.” He, then, leaned over and kissed me, a gesture so full of affection it made my heart swell.
As we gathered around the small kitchen table for Scrabble, my first blind pick of tiles included five vowels and two Ps that fit nowhere, but with the Scrabble tiles scattered in front of me, it didn’t matter that words weren’t happening and I was going to lose, because everything felt right. It might well be a simple Saturday night, but there was something special happening here.
Fox clutched his tiles, his gaze darting between the board and his letters. “My turn!” he declared, placing his tiles on the board with a flourish and riffing off my appallingly bad PEA. “Voila—Yeet and Peat!”
Noah raised an eyebrow, trying to stifle a laugh. “‘Yeet’? Is that even an actual word?”
“I think there’s some cheating going on here,” I teased.
“I’m not cheating,” Fox said. “When you ‘yeet’ something, it’s like throwing something hard. It’s totally a word, Dad. A young word for young people.”
I snorted a laugh, then leaned back in my chair, grinning. “I think we’re getting old, Noah. We can’t keep up with this cool, hip lingo.”
“It’s a word! I promise it is, Dad!”
Noah pretended to be deep in thought, stroking his chin. “Hmm, ‘yeet’ huh? Well, I’ll let it pass this time. But only because you’re so convincing.”
