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Olive stretched her mouth one last time, and Emily stood from her lean in the doorway.
“Ms. Olive Jean, it’s time for bed.”
“Okay,” she says and rolls from my embrace and curves her arm around her pillow.
I switch with Emily as she leans over and kisses our daughter’s head. “Good night. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.” We’re walking to the door when Olive asks, “Max?”
Emily motions for me to approach, and I walk towards her hesitantly. She’s on her side so I lean my knuckles into the bed, kissing my daughter’s temple. In that moment, I don’t care if it’s too soon. “Good night. I love you.” My voice creaks on those words.
She says nothing as she hugs the pillow harder. I think I hear her say “So weird” before settling into her spot.
Emily switches off the light, and a small nightlight paints stars on the ceiling. We walk down the hall, and Emily’s arms encircle her torso.
“Thank you for letting me…you know,” I say, giving her distance. If she didn’t have a boyfriend, I would pull her towards me, maybe kiss her hair. Instead, we walk side-by-side. There’s so much to discuss between us—now that I know about Olive, I’m not disappearing. I will show up every day so she knows I will never run around away again, even if I didn’t know.
Emily bites her lip as she grabs her glass of wine. “Do you want some more?”
I really shouldn’t, but I want to stay in this house as long as she’ll let me. “Sure.”
She says nothing as she pours us some more. She walks to the couch and I follow her, sinking into the doughy cushions. We both pull a knee into the seam of the couch, to face each other, and I can smell the flowers on her skin.
I offer my glass for a toast. “To what we made.” Emily’s eyebrows raise, and her lips downturn. I smile, since I’m not sure what that expression is. “What?”
“It’s… That’s sweet.” She clinks our glasses together, and we both take a sip.
“I need to leave Thursday. To get back in time for my dad’s party.”
Emily nods. “Have you mentioned this to your parents yet?”
“No, I want to wait.” I shrug a shoulder. “I’m enjoying our little bubble. It’s nice to pretend. You know.”
“Pretend, what?”
“That we don’t have a million things to figure out.” I swallow, as the anxiety rises in my chest. When we’re together as a family, I can forget we had ten years apart, that she made a deliberate choice to keep me from Olive, although she seems open to me being involved now. The wine has loosened my tongue, so I say, “It’s nice to be together. I wished we could’ve done this the whole time.”
Her eyebrows raise again. “Really?”
I nod. “I would’ve dropped…everything. I wanted to….”
“Really?” she repeats.
I study her and narrow my eyes. “Did I miss something?”
Emily shakes her head. “No, no. I agree with you. Maybe don’t tell your parents just yet.”
“I’ll tell them after his retirement party,” I say. “Once the dust settles.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” She smiles, like that alleviated some nervousness. “Do you think they’ll be mad?”
Why would they be mad? I shake my head, jutting out my bottom lip. “I don’t think so. Surprised, maybe.”
She smiles and takes another sip. “Good.”
“Good.” My body leans in, pulled to her like a magnet, my chest leaning into hers. Our gaze locks. Rolling my lips together, I can’t stop looking at Emily.
Her phone on the counter buzzes, breaking the spell between us. She stands up and checks it. “It’s Burke.”
