Page 34 of Promise

I curl my hand like I can hold onto the briefness of touching her hair. Our gazes click together, and my tongue locks in place. I have so much to say and yet can’t find a single word to begin.

“Trin, I⁠—”

Mirabelle lets out a cry from somewhere on the lower level.

When Trinity pulls her attention from me, she blinks rapidly like she’s been under a spell.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispers, her voice shaky and weak when she glances back at me.

Those dark eyes shift to midnight, and she shuts me out by turning away from me, rushing for the stairs.

I grip the railing that surrounds the stairwell, watching her disappear down the steps, and curse myself.

Patience, you dipstick. Patience.

The list of things to be fixed around here kept growing. The showerhead. The roof.

My wife’s broken heart.

12

[Trinity]

Two weeks have passed since Mirabelle arrived on my doorstep, and I canceled attending book club.

Which means it’s been more than a week since Dart’s arrival. A week where we’ve circled one another.

Despite my protests that he should leave the house, he settled in an extra bedroom. Since then, it’s been like a video game of avoidance, but Dart seems to be everywhere.

The hallway without a shirt on.

The bathroom project, his jeans dipping low as he worked on the plumbing.

And most recently, the backyard, measuring space outside the back door.

He’d catch me looking out the window at him, our eyes locking on one another for a brief second, before I’d spin away from the glass, feeling a hitch in my breath.

I’d catch him looking at me as well, when I’d be pacing with Mirabelle or playfully pressing kisses on her. His focus is intense, but his eyes are always soft. Possibly thinking the same things I do about Mirabelle. She is such a blessing.

Then again, I didn’t know what Dart was thinking, or what he was doing by tackling all these projects around the house.

I simply knew he was here, hovering when I made dinner or did the dishes. His presence wasn’t so much ghost-like as we’d been in the past, but an awareness. I sensed his nearness, felt it tickle my skin and rattle my thoughts, and I even sipped a little comfort from it. Especially when he offered to hold Mirabelle or gave her a bottle or simply murmured something to her.

Which further unsettled me because I did not want to get used to him being present, or near me, or smelling like mountain pine with an undertone of fresh asphalt.

Dart would leave again. It was only a matter of time, I told myself.

Thankfully, we didn’t talk. He didn’t ask for more details about Mirabelle or her unknown father. We didn’t bring up the past. We just . . . circled one another.

It was frustrating as hell.

One night, a knock rattled my front door. Answering it, I’m met with the best surprise. Vale Sylver and Halle Reynolds, now Sylver, stand on my doorstep along with Mavis and Genie, also now Sylvers.

I have officially missed several book club meetings in a row, which is so unlike me, but the girls knew my situation. Mirabelle.

That first night, I’d sent a simple text in our group chat to say that something had come up. But by the next day, I’d shared more details about the crazy circumstances of finding a baby on my doorstep with permission to adopt her.

Of course, news traveled fast between Sterling Falls and Rogue River as neighboring small towns, especially when the sheriff is a member of their family.