“One handful.”
“Two.”
Mrs. Graham laughed. “Maybe two.”
“And we drew a castle,” Helena added quickly, as if remembering the most important part. “Mine had a princess with very long hair.”
“Very long,” Mrs. Graham said. “Almost longer than the castle.”
Helena lifted her chin. “Princesses can have long hair if they want.”
“That is true,” I said. “I fully support princess freedom.”
Mrs. Graham smiled and reached for her coat. “Well, I should let you two get to that story.”
“You can stay tonight,” I said quickly. “It’s late. I don’t want you going home alone.”
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry. My son is waiting outside.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She came closer and touched Helena’s cheek. “Good night, my baby.”
“Good night,” Helena said, waving. “Thank you for popcorn.”
Mrs. Graham gave me a look. “She means the reasonable amount.”
“Of course,” I said, trying not to smile.
After Mrs. Graham left, I locked the door and stood there for a moment with Helena’s weight against me, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around us. The night outside, Hayden, the wedding, the kiss, all of it felt far away for one fragile second.
Helena touched my cheek again. “Still red.”
I closed my eyes briefly and held her closer. “Then I definitely need that story.”
She rested her head against my shoulder again, her small hand playing with a strand of hair near my collar, and somehow that small touch changed everything. The tension, the confusion, the heat of a kiss I should never have allowed, all of it softened beneath the weight of her in my arms.
This was my reality. This was the life I had built. As I held her there, standing at the entrance of the home I had created far away from the man who once unraveled me, one thought settled in my mind with painful clarity. I would not let Hayden destroy this. My body had betrayed me tonight, and some part of me had still answered him, but that weakness would not cost me the lifeI had fought to protect. He had sensed something. He had seen enough to make him curious. Still, he could not come any closer to the truth.
I carried Helena to her room, holding on to the quiet comfort of her weight against me. When I pushed the door open with my shoulder, the soft glow of her nightlight spread across the walls, and the sight of it pulled me back into a world that felt separate from the one I had just left behind.
“Story,” she reminded me, her voice already sleepy.
“I know,” I murmured, setting her down on the bed and pulling the blanket over her. “I wouldn’t dare forget.”
She curled into the pillow, her silky straight hair slipping across the fabric, and for a moment I only looked at her. The same onyx eyes she had inherited from him were heavy with sleep now, the same dark brown hair softer beneath my fingers, familiar in a way that made my chest ache.
Some days, the resemblance comforted me. Tonight, it felt harder to carry.
“Which one?” I asked, reaching for the book on her bedside table.
“The princess one,” she mumbled.
I smiled. “Again?”
“She’s brave,” Helena said, already half-asleep.
My fingers paused on the edge of the page.
