“You gave me lots of grace,”I whispered.“You had every right to be mad.”
“Yeah, maybe.”A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.“But you’re here now. That’s what matters. Can we just… go back to being normal around each other?”
A quiet, relieved laugh slipped out of me.“Please.”After a pause, I added,“I like Quinn.”
His entire expression softened—the tension melting out of his forehead, his eyes brightening in that almost boyish way.“Yeah,”he said, glancing down the hallway toward the bedroom.“She’s… she’s incredible. It was all happenstance, but I got real lucky doing this with her.”
Silence followed, even though it told me more than anything he had shared about Milo’s mom up to that point.
“You’ll make it up to her, Kells.”
A humorless breath left him.“I don’t know, I?—”
“You will.”I met his eyes.“You’re pretty incredible yourself.”
He swallowed that down, begrudgingly nodding once—he wouldn’t take my word for it, but he also didn’t hash it out more than that.
“Go lie down,” I urged, gently rocking Milo.“You’re going to pass out. I’ve got him.”
“Are you sure?”He pointed his chin toward the baby like I was the one who needed protection.
“Julian,” I murmured, adjusting Milo higher against my chest, “take a nap so you can be a functional human being.”
He hovered one more second, torn, then sighed.“Do you think Quinn will be mad if I lay down with her?”
“Only one way to find out.”I smirked.“Maybe bring her water and a snack.”
He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead then to Milo’s tiny crown, inhaling deeply, as if storing the moment in his lungs forever.
“Wake me if he so much as breathes funny.”
“I will catalog every breath,”I promised.
A vibration against my palm pulls me back from the memory.
Julian:She says hi back and that you’re welcome to visit anytime.
Julian:Maybe next time we’ll visit Bend.
I smile at the dashboard, something in my chest finally settling into a quiet steadiness.
Me:Tell Milo his Aunt Robyn loves him.
Julian:Always, Dr. Sunshine.
I lock the screen and drop the phone into the center console. The engine wakes up with a familiar purr as I start the car.
It’s just dinner with friends. Just a bar.
The local pubis loud when I walk in. The walls are painted an evergreen hue, overlaid with hand-drawn nature murals that twist up the corners and into the dim lighting. Every table and booth is solid cherry wood, worn smooth. The warmth of the place exudes from the layered voices, the clink of glasses, the low hum of folk music, off-key violin included, threading through the air.
“There she is!” Serena calls.
She’s perched at a high-top, waving a French fry at me,ketchup dripping onto the table. Ellie grins and slides a sweating glass toward the empty stool beside her.
I weave through chairs and bags, doing side hugs all around. They brought three people, an odd number as promised. Ellie’s cousin, her friend, and Max. I recognize him as soon as I eye his blue-streaked hair—he’s the guy Serena’s been so enamored with lately. Tonight, it shows every time Serena stares at him like he’s the last man on earth.
The heavy wooden door creaks open behind me. A rush of cold air snakes its way inside and lifts the loose strands around my face.
