I could tell the moment it changed, though — the rhythm of her breath, the way her fingers twitched against my ribs. She’d been half-asleep for the past ten minutes, melted over me like she belonged there, like we hadn't spent the past year trying not to fall apart.
Then her voice, small and raw, “I think I?—”
I went still.
So did she.
Her whole body locked up, and I swear I felt her heart stutter against mine. She didn’t finish it. Of course she didn’t. She wasn’t ready. But the sound of it — just the start of it — was enough to knock the air clean out of my lungs.
I didn’t dare move. Didn’t want to scare her back into her shell.
She tried again. “Ansel, I — I…” And then itbrokeher. I could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way her throat worked against the words. My chest ached.
I tilted my head down, pressed my forehead to hers like it was the only tether I had. Quiet and calm. “It’s okay,” I said, barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to.”
She didn’t answer, but her hand curled into my shirt. “I know what you were gonna say,” I added. “And I don’t need you to rush it. Not ever.”
I kissed her temple. Then the corner of her mouth.
“I want to.” She whispered, “IknowI do. It’s just—” And I felt it — that truth she wasn’t ready to give voice to. It sat between us like sunlight behind a curtain. Warm. Unspoken. Waiting.
And I could wait. God help me, I could wait as long as she needed. Iwould.
CHAPTER 57
The smell of eggs, black coffee, andbreakfastfilled the kitchen. Nadine had made everything from scratch. Biscuits. Home fries. The kind of scrambled eggs that took more than a minute to make. She’d waved off my offer to help and shooed Ansel out of the way, humming something old and sweet while the coffee brewed.
We were all crowded around the tiny kitchen table now — Ansel and I on one side, his mother across from us, with her elbow on the table and a mischievous little smirk playing on her mouth.
“So. You two,” she said, propping her chin on her hand. “How didthishappen?”
I went still.
Beside me, Ansel made a low, conspiratorial noise in his throat. “You’re gonna love this, Ma.” He laughed quietly into his mug
“Oh, God.” I took a sip of coffee mostly to stall. “It’s not that interesting.”
“It’sincrediblyinteresting,” he said. “She was drunk. She hadjust signed her divorce papers. I was — what did you call me, Juniper?”
I gave him alook. “Don’t.”
“Herhall pass,” he said, grinning like a devil. “Her actual words were:‘Oh my god, you’re Ansel Barlowe. You’re the one person I’m allowed to cheat on my husband with.’”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Nadine let out a delighted laugh. “Wait, really? You recognized him?”
“I guess so,” I muttered. “I was more focused on my drink”
“She was a menace,” Ansel said, nudging my foot under the table. “I was terrified and more than a little enchanted.”
“Terrified?”
“You know how the fans can be. Shecorneredme, Mom.”
“I didnot.”
