29 #3
“Kid management. Distraction techniques. The magic ears thing was inspirational.”
West laughs. “I’m a natural.”
“You are.”
“Told you I wanted a big family.”
“You did.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you want kids someday?” he asks.
The question catches me off guard, because I’ve been so focused on just surviving my twenties that I haven’t thought much about anything else.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Maybe. If I ever get my life together enough to take care of another human being.”
“You’re great with Charlie and Emma.”
“That’s different. I get to give them back at the end of the day.”
“But you like it. Being with them,” West says.
I nod in agreement. “I do like it.”
We’re standing in line for the Jungle Cruise, and Charlie’s explaining to everyone within hearing distance that her uncle has magic powers and can make Mickey ears appear out of nowhere. Emma’s sharing her churro with a stuffed elephant we bought at the gift shop.
And West is looking at me like I’m something he’s trying to figure out.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just… this is nice.”
“Nice?” I ask.
“Being here with you. With my nieces. Feeling like...” he trails off
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like this could be us years down the road with our own kids.”
My stomach falls to the earth’s core. Did he really just say that? He’s planning our future already? My pulse quickens, and I don’t know what to do or to say. So the words hang between us, and I feel my chest tighten.
Because this already feels real like we could have this if we really wanted to.
We’ve been trading off kid duty all day like we’ve been doing it for years.
He carries Charlie when she gets tired, I handle Emma’s diaper changes, and we communicate with looks and gestures like we have our own language.
It feels natural. Right.
It feels like something I could get used to.
“We’re just... helping Tessa out,” I quip. I don’t know what else to say. I can’t get lost in la la land with West at Disneyland right now.
I notice his jaw tightens. “Yeah.”
I add, “And you’ll go back to Seattle, and I’ll go back to my regular life, and this will just be a nice memory.”
“Right.”
But neither of us moves apart in the line, and when the family in front of us turns around to include us in their conversation about ride wait times, we don’t correct them when they assume we’re together. That this is our family when the mother gushes over how cute our girls are.
When we’re boarding the ride, our hands brush as we both reach to help Emma into the boat, and neither of us pulls back.
We just let our fingers tangle together.
“You have such a beautiful family,” the cast member says as she checks our safety restraints.
“Thank you,” West says without hesitation.
“Thank you,” I echo, even though I should correct her.
Should tell her we’re not a family. Should explain that this is just a favor for his sister and we’re definitely not together and the kids aren’t ours.
Instead, I squeeze his hand and smile and let myself pretend for just a moment that this is real. That’s what he wants, right? He wants to just keep pretending, so I guess for a moment, I play along.
When we get off the ride, West doesn’t let go of my hand.
“Liv,” he says as we’re walking toward the next attraction.
“Yeah?”
He stops walking and turns to face me, and there’s something in his expression that makes my heart skip.
“Can I kiss you?”
“West—”
“Liv.”
Charlie’s distracted by a street performer, and Emma’s fallen asleep in the stroller, and we’re standing in the middle of Disneyland surrounded by families and tourists and the smell of popcorn.
It’s not romantic. It’s not private. It’s not any of the things a first kiss should be.
But when I look at him, all I can think about is how right this feels. How much I’ve missed him. How much I don’t want him to leave tomorrow.
“Okay,” I say.
He kisses me right there in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle, and it tastes like churros and possibility and everything I didn’t know I wanted.
When we break apart, Charlie’s applauding like we’re part of the street performance.
“Again!” she shouts.
“Maybe later, Charlie,” West says, but he’s smiling when he says it.
As the day winds down, we find a spot on Main Street for the fireworks show. Charlie’s passed out in West’s arms, and Emma’s curled up in the stroller, and I’m standing next to them watching explosions of color light up the sky.
But I’m not really watching the fireworks.
I’m watching West.
The way he holds Charlie like the little girl weighs nothing. The way he keeps checking to make sure Emma’s comfortable in the stroller. The way he looks completely at peace, like this is exactly where he wants to be.
And I realize something that scares the hell out of me.
I don’t want him to leave.
Not tomorrow, not ever.
I want more days like this. More moments where we feel like something. More chances to see him with his nieces and realize how much I want the future he’s imagining too.
I want him.
All of him. Not just for a weekend or a wedding or a fake arrangement.
I want this to be real.
“Beautiful,” he says, and I think he’s talking about the fireworks until I realize he’s looking at me.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“West,” I say carefully.
“I know. I know this is complicated and I know you have your life here and I have mine in Seattle. But I meant what I said earlier. About wanting a family. About wanting all of this. I want it with you.”
The words hit me, and I feel tears prick my eyes.
“West—”
“I’m in love with you, Liv. Really, truly, stupidly in love with you. And I don’t want to go back to Seattle tomorrow and pretend like today didn’t happen.”
“Then don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t go back tomorrow.”
“I have training—”
“Stay another day. Stay a week. I don’t care. Just... stay.”
He stares at me, and I can see him processing what I just said.
The fireworks reach their grand finale, and the sky explodes in gold and silver and every color imaginable.
But all I can see is West, smiling at me like I just gave him everything he’s ever wanted.