Promise.
My face presses into her hair, breathing her in, and I lie there listening to her breaths even out. To the tick of a pipe in the wall, and the soft sound of Gus snoring on his bed.
Everything ordinary, everything fragile.
I think about how quickly something solid can feel threatened. How much of my life is built around these two beautiful girls sleeping under this roof. One curled in her bed with penguin pajamas and tangled hair. The other tucked against my chest like she was always meant to be there.
And I think about how Penny told me, once upon a time, that she doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.
She shifts, and I hold onto her a little tighter as she murmurs and presses back against me without waking, then I finally close my eyes.
I haven’t said it, but I know it.
I know it the same way I know fire burns hot and penguins choose one penguin for life.
I’m in love with Penny Easton.
Chapter twenty-two
You don’t hate her
Penny
The morning feels too ordinary. That’s the first thing I notice.
The coffee tastes the same, and Gus circles underfoot while I pack Elle’s lunch. The big clock in the living room ticks loudly like it always does.
Outside, the street is soft with early light, dew clinging to the grass and the maple trees shifting gently in the breeze. Maplewood is half asleep still, and it’s quiet in that peaceful small town way that always makes me think nothing bad could possibly happen here.
Evan stands at the counter, already in his station shirt, chewing the inside of his cheek. He hasn’t said much since we woke up. Instead, he’s been moving around the kitchen likeeverything is normal, but he keeps checking his phone. Once on the counter, then in his pocket.
“Shift’ll be fine,” I tell him softly, because I can almost feel the tension coiling under his skin.
He nods, but it’s the kind of nod that doesn’t really mean much. He steps closer before he leaves, his arms coiling to rest on the small of my back, thumbs swiping gently.
“I’ll keep my phone on me all shift,” he says calmly, eyes holding mine. “Text me anything.”
“I will,” I promise.
My lips curve into a smile as he leans and kisses me softly. The kiss lingers for a moment, until Elle barrels into the kitchen with mismatched socks, and we spring back.
“Daddy, you forgot to sign my reading log.”
He crouches down for her like nothing in her world is wrong, like he hasn’t been watching the street since dawn. Then he signs it, cups her cheeks, and kisses her forehead. His eyes slowly map her features while he holds her face in his palms, and he smiles softly.
“I’ll see you back here after shift, bug.”
“At seven sharp,” she says solemnly.
He huffs a laugh. “Yas, ma'am.”
When he walks out the door, I follow him onto the porch. I don’t mean to, but my feet just take me there. He glances back before he gets into the truck, and our eyes meet across the yard.
He looks at me, brow furrowed like he’s mapping my face now too, then his expression softens. He winks, blows me a kiss and gets in.
The truck pulls away, and the house feels larger without him in it.
***
