It's attention. I've been paying attention to them for months.
To Jillie's stories.
To Sadie's smiles.
To bakery mornings.
To school concerts.
To grocery carts.
To family photos.
To matching scarves.
To hot chocolate.
To ordinary moments.
And somewhere along the way, ordinary became my favorite thing.
That realization should probably terrify me. Instead, it feels suspiciously like relief.
The fire pops.
Sadie glances over.
Our eyes meet again, this time neither of us looks away immediately.
Neither of us needs to.
The almost-kiss is already sitting between us.
Neither spoken nor ignored.
Just...there.
Waiting.
The strange thing is that it doesn't feel like something beginning.
It feels like something we've been slowly walking toward for a very long time.
And that's the thought that follows me long after the fire burns low.
Long after I carry Jillie upstairs.
Long after Sadie disappears into the guest room.
Long after the cabin falls silent.
Because for the first time in years, I don't find myself wishing for a different city.
A different team.
A different future.
I find myself wishing this night had lasted a little longer.
