“Have you ever scored a goal?” another kid asks.
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Enough to know waffles are still better.”
Theo laughs so hard he snorts, and I pretend not to hear it because this is a sacred moment.
The room is loud in the best way—chairs scraping, kids talking over each other, adults laughing too hard at bad jokes. I’m halfway through telling a story about accidentally tripping over my own stick when something in the energy around us shifts. It’s subtle, but I feel it.
I look up to find Juliette standing in the gym’s doorway.
Her hair’s a little messy, but she looks beautiful. Even from here I can see the pink flush on her cheeks. She looks like she ran here on adrenaline and sheer force of will.
Then our eyes meet, and she smiles. It’s not polite or careful, it’s full-on relief. My chest tightens in a way that feels permanent.
Mitch’s dad takes a sip of his coffee, pulling my attention partially back to our table. “You’ve set the bar really high today.”
I smile, eyes still on Juliette.
“That was the goal,” I say. “Showing up for those who trust me.”
“I trust you.” Theo looks up at me, confused but pleased. “That’s me, right?”
“Yep,” I say, reaching over to ruffle his hair, while my heart cranks up its applause. “That’s you.”
And standing there—waffles, noise, kids, coffee, Juliette watching from across the room—I know it.
This isn’t just showing up.
This is falling in love.
CHAPTER 31
JULIETTE
The gymnasium is thinning out fast.
Chairs scrape, voices echo, kids peel off toward classrooms, and the buzz of the brunch dissolves into something softer—endings and goodbyes are mixed with people folding moments away like they’ll take them out again later.
Theo barrels toward me the second he spots me.
“Mom!” He launches himself into my arms, squeezing hard. “Did yousee? Sawyer came. He sat with us, and talked about being a hockey player, and he told the waffle story.”
“I heard,” I say, hugging him back, my chest tight in the best way. “I heard everything.”
He pulls back, eyes bright, still vibrating. “I get to go back to class with Mitch and Lucas. We’re gonna talk about hockey all day.”
“Lucky teachers,” I say.
He grins and runs off, mouthing a last “Love you!” over his shoulder before disappearing with his friends.
I watch him go until he’s out of sight.
When I turn back, Sawyer is still there, talking with a couple of dads who look way too invested in the conversation for men who just finished a school brunch.
One of them catches my eye. “Hey, so Sawyer mentioned something about Mother’s Day coming up.”
