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“I will.”
“Good.” I nudge the egg roll container toward her. “Last one’s yours.”
“No, there were three. We should split it.”
“You like egg rolls more than I do. It’s yours.”
She gives me a curious smile. “Why do you say that?”
“It was the first thing you ate. Either you wanted to get rid of it or your favorite part of Chinese takeout is the egg rolls. I’m assuming the latter.”
“Wow.” She laughs. “Well, you’re right.”
Just as Celeste reaches for the last egg roll, Aria starts crying upstairs. Celeste immediately switches into nanny mode, standing up from her stool before I can stop her.
As she walks away, I glance over my shoulder and watch her go, her curves tantalizing me all over again. I don’t know how I’m going to keep myself reigned in, with her living and sleeping and showering under my roof. Or how I’m going to stop myself from falling completely in love with her. But if fate brought her back to me, I’m not going to fuck this up a second time.
I spend the entire following day waiting for the workday to be over. Every meeting I sit through feels painfully slow. Every hour I work at my desk is spent perpetually checking what time it is.
When the numbers finally flip over to five o’clock, I can’t stand it anymore. I grab my things and head out my office door.
“Oh—are you leaving for the day, Mr. Stone?” Natalie asks, looking up with a startled expression.
“I am.” I throw her a quick wave as I stride past her desk. “You’re welcome to go, too. Have a nice evening.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Stone!”
In the elevator, I drum my fingers impatiently at my side as I watch the numbers descend. At last, the doors open to the parking garage.
Keys out. Engine on. Out on the street, I honk at a car idling in the middle of the lane and go around him with an impatient sigh. I arrive home in record time.
Walking through my front door, I secretly hope to find Celeste dancing to another one of my records. I imagine her smiling when she sees me. Maybe even beckoning me to join her. But when I walk into my house, there’s no music playing. No gorgeously curvy woman dancing in my living room.
I pause, taking in the quiet of my house. Listening for a clue. A soft, barely audible sound is coming from upstairs. And so that’s where I go.
It’s coming from the nursery, of course. As I walk closer, I can hear Celeste’s gentle voice as she speaks to Aria.
“There we go,” she’s saying. “All changed. Isn’t that better, sweetie?”
I’m at the doorway of the nursery now. I have a perfect view of Celeste. She’s standing in front of the changing table, lifting up Aria into the air, and letting out a joyful laugh as Aria happily kicks her little feet.
My chest squeezes tight as I watch the two of them. This is the kind of moment I’ve always longed for—although not this exact scenario, of course. I want it to be my wife, my child. But maybe this is the closest I’m ever going to get. And so I savor the moment.
Celeste turns around and sees me in the doorway. She smiles as she walks over with Aria in her arms.
“Look who’s home,” Celeste says to Aria, and then to me: “Do you want to hold her?”
I nod and extend my hands. Celeste transfers little Aria into my arms, and I cradle her against me. I expect it to feel just as unnatural as it always does, but this time, it’s less so.
“Should I make us some dinner?” Celeste asks.
I shake my head. “I want to bring Aria over to the hospital and see Janie first.”
“Oh, of course. Dinner can wait.”
I nod. “Do you want to come with us?”
5
