I had taken the day off from the university for Helena’s birthday, and from the moment I woke up, the apartment felt lighter. Winter light slipped through the curtains, and for once my first thought was not Hayden, or the past, or any of the worries waiting outside this day.
It was Helena.
My little girl sleeping in the next room. My whole world turning another year older.
By late morning, the apartment had turned into birthday chaos. Balloons floated near the ceiling, ribbons covered the coffee table, and banners were spread across the couch whileGiselle and I tried to choose one that would not hurt my eyes by noon.
“Helena will love this one,” Giselle said, holding up a banner with glitter on the letters.
“She’ll love anything with glitter.”
“Then why are you looking at it like it offended you?”
“Because it did.”
Giselle laughed. Daniel looked up from the ribbons in his hands. “For the record, I think the glitter one wins.”
Giselle pointed at him. “See? Daniel has taste.”
“He’s choosing whatever gets him out of ribbon duty faster.”
“That too,” Daniel said, lifting the tangled ribbons. “These are impossible.”
“They’re ribbons,” I said.
“They’re a trap.”
I laughed and took the banner from Giselle. “Fine. Glitter wins. Help me before I change my mind.”
Daniel stood and dragged the chair beneath the wall for me. I climbed up, reached for the corner, and pressed the tape into place while Giselle stepped back to judge the result.
“This is not steady,” I said.
“It is perfectly steady,” Daniel answered, one hand braced against the back of the chair.
“It moved.”
“It did not.”
“It absolutely did.”
From below, Giselle folded her arms. “If she falls, I am blaming both of you.”
“You always blame me,” Daniel muttered.
“That is because you usually deserve it.”
I smiled to myself and stretched a little farther, trying to fix one side of the banner so it would hang evenly. For one brief second, I thought I had it.
Then the chair shifted.
A startled breath left me as my balance slipped. My hand flew toward the wall and missed, and before I could fall, Daniel caught me.
It happened fast, messy to feel real. One moment I was tipping sideways off the chair, and the next Daniel’s hands were on me, one at my waist, the other around my arm as he pulled me down. I landed against him harder than either of us expected, my palm pressed against his shoulder while the banner hung half-taped above us.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Daniel’s hands stayed on me. Mine stayed on him. My heart was racing from the fall, and when I lifted my head, I found him already looking at me. His expression carried something I did not know how to name, something he seemed to catch a second too late.
