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I sighed, unsure as to what to say. Dating Milo came with baggage in the form of a little girl, who I cared for. If it didn’t work out with Milo—even though he’d said we would return to how we always were—there was a chance I would lose not only him, but the life I had that included Holly. She was the sweetest girl, and I didn't want to risk ruining her life if something bad were to happen. Or even yet—what if something great happened, and Milo and I were in this for the long haul? What if she started to see me as a stepmother? Was I even ready to be considered a mom? Did I want tobea mom? The thought had crossed my mind a few times, but never in a situation like this. It was having time with my husband and then building a family. I didn’t want to hurt Holly by becoming the evil stepmother.
I glared at my socks, my pink scrub pants standing out against his gray cabinets.
“Hey,” Milo said softly, coming up to me and cupping my face in his hands, “none of that. I know what’s going through your head, and I promise you it won't happen.”
“It’s still so new.” I sighed. “I don’t want to hurt Holly in any way.”
“You won’t. She adores you, not as much as I do, but you will always be Aunt Maddy.”
“I don't want her seeing me as something more, something I’m not sure I can be yet,” I said sheepishly. “I don't want her seeing me as the Donald of this house.”
Milo heaved a sigh and gently touched my shoulders, grounding me in a way. “I can assure you, she won't see you as the ‘Donald’ of this home. I’ll talk to her. I’ll make sure she understands. She's a smart girl. I don't want you to worry about anything right now. Let’s focus on us and moving forward.”
I nodded, taking comfort in his words, yet also losing him halfway. It was a scary thought, but one that I had faith I could potentially conquer. If these feelings for Milo were real, and if we let them grow, I would love Holly as my own, and I would protect her as such. Maybe telling her so soon wasn’t such a big deal. Maybe it was a blessing.
I locked eyes with Milo and gave him one final, lingering kiss before dinner.
“Holly says we can't do that,” he mumbled against my lips.
“That was your last one.”
“Damnit.” He shifted back to the stove. “When she goes to bed?” He looked at me over his shoulder.
I thought for a moment before giving him a quick nod. “I can’t stay late, but yes…after she goes to bed.”
After dinner and movie and tucking Holly into bed, for a few moments, it was just Milo and me curled on the couch. His arms were strong as they held me, and his fingers were soft as they touched my lips, his lips even softer. I didn’t stay long after Holly went to bed, long enough to leave him wanting more. As soon as I got into my own home, Niko giving me a welcome home hug, all thoughts about Holly reentered my mind. I tried washing them away with a shower, telling myself it was too fast to be thinking of this. We had only been dating for a week. I shouldn't be thinking about becoming a stepmom just yet…but the pure fact was Milo had a daughter, and she came with him, no matter what.
And then there was Hannah to think about. Would she be mad at the fact that Holly and I already had a stable relationship before titles changed? Would she resent me? Would that cause a barrier between her and Milo, making things harder for him in the long run? Or maybe she wouldn’t even care. Maybe I was making Hannah out to be the bad guy, when in fact, she was a decent person. She and I had gotten along well enough when they were dating and then married. Why was my brain all of a sudden making her out to be the worst person in the world?
Needless to say, the shower didn’t help.
If only Ophelia didn't live in a different time zone across the country. Being three hours ahead of me meant she was already asleep. She would be able to talk my mind out of this spiral, pull me back to reality. She would tell me I was self-sabotaging, that Milo was perfect for me, and that the baggage that came with him was nothing compared to the future that could possibly happen. I could hear her voice in my head telling me to calm down and that she would see me soon, that we could talk more later, and that things would be how they were always meant to be.
Just pretending Ophelia was giving me a pep talk allowed my brain to chill out enough to focus on my book and try to sleep, but as soon as I closed my eyes, I saw Milo’s face, suddenly wishing I was next to him, still curled in his arms and Holly sleeping soundly in her room. I wanted to be with them forever, I wanted the life that came with them. I wanted Holly to look up to me and want to see what she could become. I wanted Milo to hold my hand as we took Niko on walks in the park, and I wanted to cook dinners together and tuck Holly in together.
Suddenly…the baggage that came with Milo didn’t seem as scary.
Chapter Twenty
-Milo-
Do you have everything?” I asked Holly as she ran around the house yet again, trying to gather her belongings. If pick up was rough, drop off was just as chaotic. Even though she was only here for seven days, she seemed to sprawl all of her belongings through the apartment, always leaving that one book or that one stuffie behind. “Make sure you have everything. I don't need your mom calling me tonight to send a picture of Marlin the Lion.”
“He’s in my bag already, and I have my book and pillow and…” She gasped. “I don’t have my toothbrush!” She ran back into the bathroom.
I sighed, knowing full well she had one at Hannah’s house. “Holly…” I grumbled “You have a toothbrush at your—”
“Got it!” She came running out, her toothbrush held in the air like a torch. “Okay.” She approached me with a smile. “I’m ready.”
I opened the door and held it with my arm held high above so Holly could walk under. She grabbed her bag and skipped out the door. Rolling my eyes with a chuckle, I shut the door and locked it, ready to make the trip back to Hannah’s.
Trips back to Hannah’s normally went one of two ways. Either Holly was silent and hugging her toys until we pulled up and that was when the excitement of seeing her mom would kick in, or she was talking a million miles an hour. Today, her talking speed was reaching new levels.
“Do I tell Mommy about you and Aunt Maddy? Or do I keep it a secret?” She giggled.
I glanced over at her. “I’ll tell Mommy when I’m ready for Mommy to know.”
“But what if Aunt Maddy needs to pick me up from school?”
