Chapter Twenty-Three
TREY
Adeline hits the front door like she’s been shot out of a cannon, sneakers squeaking across the mudroom tile.
“Vivi!” she shouts, ditching her backpack and making a beeline for the kitchen.
I’m a few steps behind her, taking my time. The first thing I see when I hit the doorway is Vivi leaning down, arms open wide, smile bright enough to light the whole damn room.
“You’re home. Finally, I missed you.” There’s a sound of relief in Vivi’s voice.
Adeline launches herself in, and Vivi catches her like she weighs nothing, hugging her so tight I almost hear the air leave her lungs.
It’s not just the normal missed-you hug, either.
There’s a way Vivi’s holding her, chin tucked into Adeline’s hair, eyes closed for a beat too long, that has something in my chest pulling tight.
“How was Disneyland? Tell me all about it. I want to hear everything. Here, let’s make you a snack. Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” Adeline says, because she’s a growing nine-year-old who’s always starving.
Vivi reaches for Adeline’s hand and pulls her to the kitchen.
“Can we have a movie night tonight and cuddle on the couch? All of us?” Adeline asks.
“You just got home, and I know Vivi has a busy week—”
But before I can say anymore, Vivi looks me square in the eye and shakes me off. I figured with everything she had to get done today before Adeline got home that she would be exhausted. Especially since I haven’t let her get much sleep over the last few nights.
“That sounds like a great idea. I don’t know about you, but I could really use a cuddle and a movie night with all of us on the couch.
” There’s so much sincerity in her eyes, and almost…
a sadness in them too, as if she’s already missing nights like this with us even though we still have two weeks.
“Should we send Uncle Trey out for pizza and ice cream for us?” she asks, and then her eyes are on me.
I get the hint. She wants time with Adeline, and something about it has me concerned.
What happened today? I’m sure she missed Adeline, but something in the way she’s watching Adeline, hanging on every word as she slices up apples and scoops a dollop of hazelnut spread on a plate for them to share, it has the look of someone who’s trying to memorize every moment, every word, as if she won’t have many more.
“Will you Uncle Trey? You’ve already heard everything in the car. You won’t miss any of my stories.”
Vivi looks up at me, too, and I nod. She needs this time with her, and I know that Adeline needs it too. After all, two weeks isn’t going to be nearly long enough. Not unless somehow… Jameson doesn’t return home and we get to keep her.
But with that push notification we both saw last night—that I guess we’re not going to acknowledge exists—Jameson is already on his way home.
I head for the front door, keys in hand, armed with my wallet and demands for pizza and ice cream.
By the time I make it back, the scent of pizza and cold air clings to me, my fingers numb from carrying too many grocery bags on the same hand.
The living room light is dimmed, the flicker of the TV casting shadows across the walls.
They’re already curled up together on the couch, sharing a blanket like they’ve been doing it for years.
Adeline’s head rests on Vivi’s chest, her knees tucked up, the half-empty snack plate balanced on the coffee table.
Vivi’s fingers are moving lazily through Adeline’s hair—long, slow strokes that make my niece melt against her like a cat soaking up the last bit of sun.
I stop in the doorway and just…stay there.
Not moving. Not breathing too hard. Just watching.
The sound from the TV is low, the steady rhythm of the rain against the windows even lower, and the only thing I can really focus on is how right they look together. Vivi’s body curves around Adeline like she was made to be there, like her only job in the world is to keep her safe.
Adeline mumbles something, too quiet for me to hear, and Vivi’s lips curve in a smile so tender I feel it in my chest. Her hand doesn’t stop combing through Adeline’s hair, slow and steady, like she’s memorizing the feel of every strand.
Something in my chest twists, hard.
I’ve seen Vivi handle crises on the phone, reporters, and PR dumpster fires like she was born to win them, but this—this is the most natural I’ve ever seen her. Like she belongs here. Like she belongs with us.
And the worst part is the small voice in the back of my head whispering that she’s holding on because she knows she won’t get to do this much longer.
Her gaze drifts up and catches mine. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, but something in her eyes asks me not to ruin it. Not to pull Adeline out of her arms or break the moment.
I nod once, slow, and finally step forward. The floor creaks under my weight, and only then do I clear my throat, holding the pizza box like it’s the only excuse I’ve got for interrupting.
“Dinner’s here,” I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.
Adeline perks up just enough to grab a slice before curling right back into Vivi’s side, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
I sink into the armchair, the smell of melted cheese and the sight of them together wrapping around me like a vise. Two weeks. That’s all I’ve got. And if Jameson Holiday walks through the door, I lose this. I lose her.
And I don’t know if I can let that happen.
It's selfish, I know, but I’ll never know unless I ask. I’ll let us have the next two weeks together, letting her see what I can give her though I know what she’d have to give up to be with us isn’t a small thing.
What Slade said on the jet comes back to my mind.
“Life's too short to have big regrets like letting the right person go.”