“Are you all right?” I asked.
She nodded. “More than all right.” Her voice was low and a little shy. “I feel found.”
I closed my eyes. “Me too.”
We laid like that and let the night build around us. Somewhere, a nightbird called, a truck rolled past on the far road and faded away, and the ceiling fan ticked in its steady turn. Madison’s breathing evened, and my body loosened, but neither of us fell asleep. We were awake in the best sense of the word, aware of the way the future had shifted by inches into a line we could follow.
“Tomorrow,” she said finally, the word warm against my chest.
“Tomorrow,” I answered.
I reached for the lamp but did not turn it off. I left it low, a small circle of light that felt like a vow. She found my hand under the sheet and laced our fingers, and I thought of Olive asleep down the hall, of the seashell family on the windowsill, of the map Olive had drawn with three circles in the kitchen. I thought of roofs that hold and porches that invite, of walls that are not barriers but arms.
Madison tucked closer, and I held her. And in that bed, in that light, the two of us became the thing we had been building all along.
Chapter 54
Madison
The house was unusually quiet. Olive’s voice wasn’t echoing through the hall, and her crayons weren’t scattered across the table. For once, there was no little Bunny stuffed under a pillow or tiny shoes abandoned in the doorway. She had been thrilled when Blair invited her over for the afternoon. A few hours with Aunt Blair meant games and snacks and, if I knew them both, probably a trip for ice cream before dinner.
For me, it meant something else entirely.
I climbed the stairs from the laundry room, smoothing my hands down my jeans, and paused when I saw the soft glow spilling from the dining room. Candles. Not one or two, but several, their flames small and steady, filling the space with golden light. A vase of wildflowers sat in the center of the table, zinnias and sunflowers, the kind Olive loved pointing out at the market. Beside them was a bottle of wine, already uncorked, and two glasses waiting.
My heart stuttered.
“Seth?” I called, my voice catching in my throat.
He appeared from the kitchen, towel slung over his shoulder, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. He wasn’t dressed up, just jeans and a button-down rolled to his forearms, but something about the way he looked at me made my breath falter.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I whispered, stepping closer.
“I wanted to,” he said simply. He pulled out a chair for me, waiting until I sat before pouring the wine. Then, he settled across from me, his eyes never straying far. “You’ve been running between work, Olive, and everything else. I thought you deserved a moment that was about you.”
The words sank into me, heavier than they should have been. For so long, no one had made space for me like that. It was always about keeping things together, about making sure Olive had what she needed. Sitting here in the warm glow of candlelight, I felt… seen.
Lunch was simple: some local fish, roasted vegetables, bread still warm from the oven. We talked about small things at first, the kind of easy conversation that had become natural. Olive’s latest invention with chalk drawings. A neighbor’s dog that barked every time we walked past. The way the garden was starting to bloom in uneven but determined rows.
But underneath it all, something else hummed.
When the plates were cleared, Seth leaned back in his chair, his eyes steady on mine. “Madison,” he said quietly, and the way he said my name sent my pulse racing.
“Yes?”
He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine before sliding into place, warm and sure. “We’ve been living side by side for months now. Sharing dinners. Mornings. Nights. You’ve let me in, and you’ve trusted me with Olive. That means more than I can put into words.”
My throat tightened. “You’ve earned that trust.”
His thumb grazed over the back of my hand. “I don’t want you to wonder where we stand. I don’t want Olive to wonder either. I want you to know, without question, that this isn’t temporary for me.”
My breath caught. “Seth—”
He cut me off, his voice firm but gentle. “Madison Cole, will you be my girlfriend?”
The words seemed simple, almost too simple for everything that had built between us, yet they carried the weight of truth. Months of lowering walls, of letting myself hope again, of watching him become a steady part of Olive’s world.
Tears pricked at my eyes as I laughed, soft and shaky. “Yes. Of course, yes.”
