Chapter 20 #2
She giggled, her body wiggling when she was excited. “Oh my, I do briefly recall yelling about that one night. I might’ve had a few vodkas before that though.”
“Mm, I’d argue more than a few.” I winked and set the food on the counter but not before seeing her lips part. She never got to see me be charming, but I’d shock the hell out of her. I could be.
“Oh, a wink. Simmer down, Abbott.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder, my damn heart skipping a beat at the shock and joy on her face. I loved her smile, the real one. “Nah, I don’t think I will.”
Her answering grin grew, and she shook her head, chuckling at me. “I’ll help get the table set up.”
“Miles, dragon fighter, have we washed our hands yet?”
“No.”
“Well, are we gonna?” I asked, crouching and ruffling his hair. Now that I was closer to him, I got a better read on his face. And he was sad. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”
“I miss Mom.” He sniffed and stared at his hands. “We had the same hands. She told me.”
“Oh, Miles. I miss her too.” My throat tightened, the now-familiar ache growing at the back as Miles’s eyes welled with tears.
“You have so much of your mom in you. You have her smile.” I ran a hand over his jaw, then over his head.
“And your hair. You totally have your mom’s hair. Hers was so pretty.”
“At school, my best friend said it’s weird I don’t have a mom.”
I sucked in a slow breath, keeping my voice steady even as my chest started to ache. Five-year-olds didn’t need speeches or fixes. They needed truth that didn’t scare them and reassurance that didn’t disappear.
“That’s not weird,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes.
“It’s different. And different can feel strange sometimes, especially to kids who haven’t learned how to say things kindly yet.
” I brushed my thumb under his eye before a tear could fall.
“But not having your mom here doesn’t make you less. It means you loved someone really big.”
Miles nodded, lips wobbling. “I don’t want people to think I’m…weird or broken.”
The words hit me like a punch. Before I could stop myself, my hand curled into a fist at my side.
Em knelt beside us then, smooth and calm like she’d always been meant to be there. She didn’t crowd him. She didn’t rush him. She settled onto her heels and rested her hands on her knees, bringing herself to his level.
“Miles,” she said softly, “can I tell you something?”
He glanced at her, sniffing. “Okay.”
“I don’t have a mom who can do everything she used to,” she said gently.
“And sometimes people don’t know what to say about that, so they say something silly or hurtful instead.
” She tilted her head, her voice warm and certain.
“But that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with us. It means we’ve been really brave.”
Miles studied her face like he was weighing her words carefully. “Brave like the pink dragon?”
“Exactly like the pink dragon,” she said, smiling. “And brave people get sad sometimes. That’s allowed.”
He took a shaky breath, then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her neck. She hugged him back immediately, one hand smoothing over his hair, the other pressing warm and steady between his shoulder blades. I turned my face away for a second, blinking hard.
“I still like dragons,” he mumbled into her shoulder.
“I know,” she said. “And your mom knew that too.”
After a minute, he pulled back, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. The tears stopped, but he looked so little, so defeated. I was used to the smiles and silliness, and I would take down a hundred dragons if that would help him. He frowned and stared at me, then Em. “Can we still have dinner?”
“Absolutely,” Em said, standing and holding out her hand. “Dragon fighters need fuel, but let’s wash our hands first. I’ll come with you. I forgot to earlier.”
Dinner was quieter after that, but not heavy.
Miles talked about school again, about recess and the kid who cheated at tag, and Em listened like every detail mattered.
I found myself watching the way she stayed tuned into him, how she laughed when it was appropriate and stayed quiet when it wasn’t.
She was so good with him. I knew she helped raise her younger siblings when she was a teenager, but to see the experience in action like this was a gift.
I couldn’t stop myself from touching her.
My body needed her warmth, her touch. I reached around her and placed my arm around her shoulders, letting my head rest on her shoulder for a beat.
She smelled so damn good, and she leaned into my touch before continuing a story about her little brother, Daniel.
Miles laughed again, and I finally relaxed.
By the time bedtime rolled around, Miles was worn out in the way only kids could be—emotions spent, body tired, eyes drooping even as he tried to stay awake.
I tucked him in while Em stood in the doorway, Sassy already curled at the foot of the bed.
Her head rested on his foot, and he sat up to pet her.
“Ms. Em?” he asked sleepily.
“Yeah, bud?”
“Will you be here tomorrow too? And Sassy?”
She met my eyes for half a second before answering. “We sure will.”
He smiled at that, eyelids fluttering closed, and reached out until his fingers brushed hers. Em sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand. She stayed there until his breathing evened out, until sleep claimed him completely.
“He’ll sleep like a log tonight.” Em carefully shut his door, leaving it cracked as she stared up at me. “Hey, he’ll be okay. Grief like this is normal.”
“I know.” I pinched my eyes, scrubbing my face with my hand as we headed toward the living room. “It’s so fucking hard when he says that shit, because I miss my sister too.”
“Have you talked to Dr. Mercer about any of this yet?”
“A few sessions, yeah, but I’ve been so busy trying to balance life…” I started, stopping when Em frowned at me. “I’m not opposed to it, don’t look at me like that.”
“Noah, you’re handling so much.” She stepped toward me and took my hands in hers, a sweet smile toying on her lips.
I loved when she touched me first. She did often when we were friends, but every single time, my stomach swooped with awareness, and heat flooded my system.
“You need to carve out time to handle this safely. You’re so good for him.
Truly. I’m so proud of you, but you need to learn to handle the grief for yourself too. ”
“This is not how I envisioned our date tonight.” I intertwined our fingers, staring at how small and perfect her hand was in mine. “I had a surprise for you.”
“Oh?” She chewed the side of her lips, pushing her glasses up her nose as she stared up at me. “Do I not get the surprise anymore? You know I’m a sucker for a surprise, Noah. But small ones. Not big ones.”
“I remember.” I smiled, thinking about the night in college she lectured me about how much she hated surprise parties. The thought of them made her cry with anxiety. “I wanted to woo you.”
“There is a lot of woo going on right now, maybe not in the way you thought. Trust me.” She licked the side of her lip, her cheeks blushing in that pretty pink way. God, I wanted to know what was going on in her head.
“Mm, you’re blushing, Em.” I moved my free hand to cup the back of her head, tilting it up as I bent down.
I gave her every chance to pull away, even though every part of me hoped she wouldn’t.
My thumb brushed under her ear, feeling the heat there, the way her pulse jumped when I touched her.
She tipped her face up on her own, breath catching, and that tiny, deliberate choice caused my heart to squeeze.
“Come here,” I murmured, needing to kiss her.
When I kissed her, it wasn’t rushed or sharp.
It was deep and full and careful, like I was trying to say everything I hadn’t figured out how to put into sentences yet.
Her lips were warm and soft, parting under mine with a quiet sound that went straight to my chest. She leaned into me immediately, fingers tightening in mine like she needed the contact to stay upright, and I kissed her harder—not frantic, not hungry, just certain.
She tasted like tea and something sweet underneath, familiar and new all at once.
I angled my head, deepening the kiss slowly, deliberately, letting it build instead of burn out.
Her hand slid up my chest, resting right over my erratic heart, and I had to swallow against the rush of emotion that followed.
Every kiss felt like a promise I fully intended to keep.
I broke away long enough to rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing a little harder now. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, glasses slightly crooked from where my nose had bumped them. She smiled like she was a little dizzy and happy about it.
“See?” I said softly. “Wooing.”
She laughed under her breath, then leaned in and kissed me again—shorter this time, sweeter, like punctuation instead of a declaration. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright and searching, and I knew if I kissed her again, I’d lose track of time entirely.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I squeezed her hand once and stepped back enough to reach behind the couch. I grabbed the box I’d tucked there earlier and brought it out between us, setting it on the table with a small, dramatic flourish I absolutely did not practice in the car.
Her eyes widened instantly.
“No,” she said, already smiling. “No way!”
I shrugged, trying—and failing—to look casual. “You laughed so hard at it in the shop I thought you were going to cry. Something about ‘dogs playing poker but emotionally available.’”
She pressed a hand to her chest, genuinely touched. “I said that one time.”
She laughed, shaking her head, and slid closer to the table, fingers already lifting the lid like she couldn’t help herself. “This was years ago, in college… Noah. How…?”
“I remember everything about you, Em,” I said quietly, watching her more than the puzzle. The way she leaned in. The way her shoulders relaxed. The way she looked like she was already home.
She glanced back at me, her smile soft and warm and filled with emotion.
I sat down beside her, knees brushing, and opened the box fully, spilling pieces across the table. As we started sorting edges from chaos, her shoulder leaned into mine without hesitation, easy and familiar. “Now, I figured we could work on this for a bit then maybe watch a movie?”
“Oh, my sweet Noah, once I start a puzzle I can’t stop. It might be a long night for us, my guy.”