And just like that?
Gone.
Years of my mother's suspicious nature vanished into thin air.
A few jokes.
One smile.
Some ridiculous story about Ego and toaster waffles.
And suddenly she was laughing.
Actually laughing.
I hadn't realized how much I'd missed hearing that sound.
After losing Dad, it happened less and less.
Seeing Mom smile again made my chest ache.
Then Kai took me out to dinner.
Some tiny Thai restaurant I'd never even noticed before.
We shared dishes I couldn't pronounce.
He fed me bites from his plate.
I stole noodles from his.
We laughed.
Talked.
Held hands beneath the table.
Afterward he brought me back to his penthouse condo in Edgewater.
And oh my goodness.
The view.
He has floor to ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan.
And a terrace.
The city lights reflecting across the Hudson River look like a million diamonds scattered across the water. They shine like stars.
Beautiful.
Everything about this is beautiful.
Him.
The night.
The way he looked at me.
