When Edwina came back into the living room, the apartment felt different. Helena’s voice was gone, and without it, everything we had avoided all day came back to life between us. The tree still glowed. The toys were still scattered across the carpet. Snowy’s empty gift bag sat near the chair.
Edwina stood there looking at me as if she knew the soft part of the night was over. I looked back at her, my jaw tight, my chest full of things I still did not know how to carry.
“She told me to come tomorrow,” I said.
“I heard.”
“I’m coming.”
“I know.”
Edwina stopped near the sofa and looked at me. I looked back, and for a moment neither of us spoke.
Then she said, “You were good with her.”
The praise sat badly on me because I wanted it too much.
“I was trying not to scare her,” I said. The words came out rougher than I meant them to. “I want her to like me.” My jaw tightened. “Fuck, I want her to love me, and I don’t even know if I have the right to want that yet.”
A faint softness touched Edwina’s mouth. “You didn’t scare her.”
The room went quiet again, the tree glowing behind us, Helena’s toys still scattered across the carpet. Without Helena’s voice filling the space, everything we had avoided all day came back and stood between us.
“I’m still angry with you,” I said.
“I know.”
I looked at the tree instead of her. “I don’t know when that goes away.”
Her answer took a second. “Maybe some of it doesn’t.”
That pulled my gaze back to hers. She did not look away.
“And you?” I asked.
Her throat moved. “Some of mine won’t either.”
There it was. The truth, ugly and clean, kinder than any lie would have been.
I let out a breath and dragged a hand over my jaw. “Good.”
One of her brows lifted. “Good?”
“Yes.” My voice came out rough. “Because if you told me you’d forgiven everything, I’d think you were lying or out of your fucking mind.”
That got a small laugh out of her, tired and real. For a second, I let myself look at her the way I had wanted to all day and had not dared. Desire was the easy part with Edwina. It always had been. The harder thing was seeing everything else at once, the history, the damage, the mother of my daughter, the woman I had loved, ruined, lost, and still wanted standing in front of me.
“We hurt each other,” I said.
“Yes.”
“We’re still doing it.”
Her eyes held mine. “Probably.”
Something close to a smile touched my mouth. “Good night to us, then.”
I moved toward the door at last, and Edwina followed. In the hallway, we stood facing each other, the living room glowing behind her.
