We spent the next hour wandering through the gardens. At one point, Billie stopped dead in front of a carnivorous plant exhibit. “Could that eat kindergarteners?”
“No,” Bianca said immediately.
“A determined one could maybe eat a toe,” CJ offered.
I sighed. “CJ.”
Winnie crouched next to Billie. “Most carnivorous plants evolved to consume insects because the soil where they grow lacks nutrients.”
Billie frowned at the plant. “So, it’s just trying its best to survive?”
“Yes.”
Billie nodded solemnly. “I can respect that.”
Eventually, we reached a quieter section of the gardens lined with flowering trees and shaded benches.
Winnie paused beside a climbing rose display. “These would do beautifully near the new pavilion in the backyard,” she said.
Billie bounced up and down. “We could make a flower tunnel! Please, Daddy!”
CJ pointed dramatically. “A secret garden entrance.”
All three children began talking over one another about possible additions to the garden back home. I watched Winnie listening to them, completely relaxed.
A soft yellow petal had landed against the sleeve of her dress. Before I thought better of it, I brushed it away, my fingers lingering a beat too long.
Her eyes caught mine. The awareness between us had become impossible to ignore. Every glance seemed to last a heartbeat longer than it should. Every accidental touch noticed instead of instantly forgotten. Even the silence between us had begun to feel like its own kind of conversation.
I found excuses to stand beside her in the kitchen. She somehow always appeared when I walked outside after work. We’d evenbegun sharing little smiles over the children’s antics before either of us spoke. It all felt wonderfully effortless.
A breeze shifted through the trees, and sunlight moved across the pathway toward her. Automatically, I adjusted the angle of her parasol so the shade covered her more.
Winnie’s mouth curved. “You’ve really done a one-eighty, Mr. Lawrence.”
The words caught me off guard. Clearing my throat, I said, “Hopefully for the better.”
“You’re not checking your emails every six minutes.”
“I checked twice today.”
“An impressive recovery.”
I let my gaze drift to the kids. CJ had convinced Billie she needed to inspect every flower for fairy activity while Bianca followed behind correcting their botanical terminology with exhausted patience.
“They seem happier than they were on Friday,” Winnie said gently.
I smiled. “They really are happier. Less burdened.”
“You are too.”
She was right. “For a long time, I convinced myself that surviving was the same thing as living, especially on special holidays like today.”
Winnie didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush to comfort me.
“Work was easier,” I admitted. “Predictable. If I worked harder, things improved. Parenting after…” I swallowed slightly. “After Jade died, it felt impossible half the time.”
Winnie smiled gently. “You love them very much.”
