Trent
Walking into Mom’s house, the first thing that hits me is the smell of her cooking—rich and familiar, enough to make my mouth water. The second is her voice.
She’s singing.
I can’t remember the last time I heard that. I pause in the hallway before drifting toward the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. She’s at the stove, stirring whatever’s simmering there, unaware of me as she sings along to “At Last” by Etta James.
I stay a second longer than necessary, listening. She’s relaxed in a way I’m not used to seeing—shoulders loose, humming between lines, completely at ease. When the song ends, she turns, catches me watching, and startles just enough to laugh.
“You trying to sneak up on me now?” she asks.
“Wouldn’t dare,” I say, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the kitchen. I lean in and kiss her cheek, breathing in the familiar mix of her perfume and whatever’s cooking on the stove.
She smiles, then turns back to the stove, giving the pot a final stir before clicking off the heat. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she says, like that explains the music, the smile, the lightness in her voice.
I hover uselessly until she shoos me toward the table. By the time she sits across from me, the plates are warm and the food smells incredible.
We eat and talk between bites. She asks about my leg, whether I’m doing okay, nodding like she’s storing every detail for later.
I tell her about work—about Kade and Brandon wanting me to help with recruiting and crew coordination for the new project they are starting.
The conversation flows easy, familiar. The only thing we haven’t touched on yet is our dating lives—not that she even knows I have one.
I take a breath and decide to break the ice. “So… you and Mr. Edwards, huh?”
She blinks, then smiles softly. “It’s David.”
“Right,” I say, smirking. “You and David.”
Her fingers fidget with the edge of her napkin. “Are you mad at me for the Harvest Festival?”
I shake my head, setting my fork down. “Why would I be mad, Mom? You looked happy—from what I could see, anyway. Are you happy?”
Her eyes warm, crinkling at the corners. “Yes, sweetheart, I am. It’s new, but he’s a really lovely man. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone this late in life—especially after your dad and I divorced—but I guess they say it happens when you’re not looking.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth. “I’m happy for you, Mom.”
She studies me for a moment, cautious. “It’s not weird for you? That I’m dating someone? Someone who happens to be your old schoolteacher?”
I laugh under my breath. “It’s not weird. Probably would’ve been if he was still my high school teacher—don’t think I’d have lived that one down. But honestly? As long as you’re happy and he treats you good, that’s all I could ask for.”
Her shoulders relax, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “He does. And I am.” She hesitates, studying my face the way only a mom can. “What about you? Anything new I should know about?”
I glance down at my plate, pushing a bit of mac and cheese around with my fork. “What do you mean?”
“Have you finally got yourself a girl and settled down?” she teases, one eyebrow lifting. “Or are there still… many girls?”
I huff a laugh. “I wasn’t that bad.”
She grins, leaning back in her chair. “You forget I used to hear you trying to sneak those dates of yours out of the house in the morning.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Fair point. But yeah… there is a girl.”
Her expression softens. “Is she the one?”
I nod, my throat tightening a little. “Yeah. She’s the one.”
She tilts her head, reading me like an open book. “Then why do you look so sad about it, sweetheart?”
I exhale, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. “It’s complicated. I messed things up the first time, and now she’s hesitant to go public about us. I’m trying to be patient—it’s just tougher than I thought it’d be.”
Mom’s brow furrows. “Is there a reason it has to stay secret?”
“Yeah.”
“Because someone might get hurt? Because of you and her being together?”
“Possibly.”
She studies me for a long moment, her voice quiet when she finally speaks. “Is she worth whatever risk you’re taking?”
I meet her gaze, steady. “Yeah. She’s worth it. I’m gonna marry this girl one day, Mom.”
Her eyes soften, pride and worry mingling in them. She reaches over again, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Then don’t let her go, honey.””
Mom doesn’t press me for more after that, and I’m grateful.
We finish dinner talking about safer things—her garden that refuses to grow anything but weeds, the neighbor’s yappy dog, the latest gossip from town.
It’s easy, comfortable. The kind of conversation I didn’t realize I’d missed until I was sitting across from her again, watching her laugh at her own stories.
Dinner winds down, and Mom clears a few plates while humming to herself. I help stack dishes and tuck leftovers away, the kitchen settling back into its usual order.
When everything’s put away and there’s nothing left to clean, I glance toward the clock. “I should head out before it gets too late.”
Mom nods. “Probably a good idea.”
I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and shrug it on. She gives me a quick hug on my way to the door—warm, familiar, easy.
“Drive safe,” she calls as I step outside.
“I will.”
I step out into the night and slide into the driver’s seat. The engine hums to life as I pull onto the street. The ride home is quiet, the radio low, streetlights blurring past. My thoughts drift back to what I told Mom—and to the future I want with Aubrey.
I pull into my driveway, cut the engine, and climb out of the truck, feeling the instant chill in the air as I walk up the porch steps and unlock the front door.
Once inside, I drag my ass upstairs, tired and full from all the food I ate at mom’s and head towards my bedroom. Once inside I strip down to my boxers and climb into bed.
With my phone in my hand, I pull up Aubrey contact, a sudden desperate need to hear her voice but remember she’s having a slumber party with Avery, when suddenly it buzzes, lighting up the screen with her name.
I stare at her name for a moment, a half-smile tugging at my mouth. Then I take a breath and swipe to answer.
“Hey beautiful.”
“Hey.”
“You doing okay baby?”
“I’m doing good. I miss you,” she says softly.
“I miss you too,” I reply, letting a small smile tug at my lips. “I bet Avery’s having the best sleepover with her favorite auntie though.”
“First off, I’m her only auntie,” she shoots back, a laugh in her voice, “and secondly… the little lightweight fell asleep thirty minutes ago and left me to tidy up the mess she’d made in her room.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Sounds about right.”
“She honestly holds all of our hearts hostage and doesn’t even realize it,” she says, exasperated but amused.
I grin. “I think she realizes it, pretty girl. I just think she pretends she doesn’t know while using it against you all.”
There’s a beat of silence before her laugh bursts out, light and genuine. “God, you’re right!”
“You’ll be such a good mom someday, Bree.” I say before I can stop myself, “Our kids will be so lucky to have you as their mom.”
The words hang between us, and my chest tightens. The image hits me hard—Aubrey holding a baby in her arms, rocking them gently to sleep, that soft smile lighting up her face. It’s so vivid it almost steals the air from my lungs.
I’ve never been the guy to picture things like that. Kids, a family—it was never something I thought I wanted. But with her, it’s different. With her, I can see it all so clearly it hurts a little.
It takes me a moment to realize she hasn’t said a word.
“I don’t know where that came from,” I say quickly, rubbing the back of my neck. “I just meant you’re… really good with kids.”
Silence again. The kind that makes my pulse race.
“Bree? You still there?”
“Yeah,” she says finally, her voice quiet.
“Forget I said anything…”
“You think we’ll have kids one day?” she asks, tentative, almost shy.
I exhale slowly, a smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, baby, I do. I hope we’d be lucky enough to someday raise a family together. Don’t you?”
“I mean… yeah,” she admits softly. “I just didn’t realize you wanted that too.”
“Why wouldn’t I want that?”
She hesitates. “I’ve just never heard you talk about kids before, I guess. I mean, you’re amazing with Avery—she adores you—I just never thought to ask.”
I lean my head back against the pillow, smiling to myself. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about kids before either. But with you… I think about everything.”
There’s a small, nervous laugh on her end. “What else do you think about?”
I huff out a quiet laugh, even though the answer comes easily.
“I think about what you’d look like in a white dress on our wedding day.
Whether you’d want a small-town getaway or a beach honeymoon.
I think about if we’d have a dog—and what we’d name it.
” I pause, the words thick in my throat. “I think about it all, pretty girl.”
There’s a long, quiet breath before she whispers, almost to herself, “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“You really are obsessed with me, aren’t you?”
A grin spreads across my face as a chuckle escapes me lips, “If you don’t know by now how fucking crazy I am about you, then I’m doing something wrong.”
“Thank you.” She whispers.
“For what?”
“For being patient with me.”
“I’d wait a lifetime for you, pretty girl.”
We spend a few more minutes on the phone before we finally give in and hang up. I lay there in bed; a smile stretched across my face it hurts and a warmth in my chest that soothes me.
I’m so in love with that woman, it’s insane. I’m desperate for her, always thinking of her, always needing her and I'll do anything to prove I’m the guy she deserves.
She’s my forever.
My one and only.
And one day, everyone will fucking know it.