Chapter 59
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
preston
Same as every morning since moving back to my room, I wake up with my hand drifting across the sheets, reaching for what isn’t there.
I’m convinced I’d sleep longer if I’d find Mia’s body.
If I could hook her in, tuck my face into the curve of her neck, breathe her in until I dozed off again.
That day is coming, this I know. She already said her first “I do” yesterday.
I smile, delusional and absolutely fine with it.
Her absence makes me toss and turn, something different about it this morning making me uneasy. That’s when I spot the note on my nightstand. Her handwriting reads: Gone to pick something up. Back before breakfast in bed.
We made a plan. Start Lily’s birthday with a small banquet in bed, follow it with a whole day built around her favorite things. Our presents are hidden in my closet, so I can’t imagine what Mia needed to run out for at this hour on a Sunday.
There’s no chance I’ll get back to sleep. No rest will be found without her under my covers. Or my roof. So I throw the duvet back, pad downstairs, and put my restlessness to use—start the special menu for the special day.
Oranges get squeezed and sieved. Fruit sliced.
Pancakes are stacked in the oven on low.
Bread lined up for the toaster; eggs whisked smooth in a bowl.
They’ll hit the pan any second now. A scoop of strawberry ice cream topped with sprinkles waits in the freezer.
I think that’s it. If I can get all this balanced on one tray and up the stairs, we’re off to a good start.
I’m pouring eggs into the hot pan when the front door clicks open. Mia slips inside, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair wind-tossed. She kisses me good morning over the sizzle of butter, lips soft, smile brighter than the sun through the window.
“You already did everything?” she asks, impressed, glancing at the spread.
“Sorry,” I mutter, scrambling the eggs, “but we don’t have much time. Lil’s liable to wake up on her own any second.”
Her grin fizzles out. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. It wasn’t supposed to take this long. But it was worth it.”
“What was?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “No way. Lily gets to see it first.”
This woman. Always finding new ways to torture me. She’s not even carrying a bag. My curiosity spikes to agonizing levels. Where the hell is she hiding it?
I plate the eggs and start slotting everything onto the tray. Meanwhile, Mia darts upstairs to grab the presents we hid away.
We meet in the hallway and tiptoe into Lily’s room together, tray balanced in my hands, singing “Happy Birthday,” soft enough to stir her awake, then belting it out once her eyes blink open.
Lily gasps as if we wheeled in a Disney parade. She claps her hands, chanting, “Presents! Presents! Presents!”
Mia settles on the bed first, as excited as the birthday girl herself, and hands over her gift.
A collection of the most extraordinary stationery ever made and a scrapbook—half full already.
Polaroids of water balloon fights in the yard, countless craft projects in the kitchen, Lily passed out with books stacked around her.
And in the margins are Mia’s funny little doodles—unicorns with sunglasses, manatees farting rainbows.
The rest of the pages are blank, waiting for Lily to fill.
“This is… mine?” Lily whispers, fingers stroking the cover.
“All yours,” Mia says, her grin tender and a bit nervous. “It’s an adventure journal. For all the memories we’re gonna make.”
Lily squeals and throws herself at Mia so hard the scrapbook nearly flies out of her hands.
When she finally lets go, it’s my turn. I set the telescope beside her bed, along with the newest vet Barbie she’s been hinting at.
Her eyes go wide. “You remembered.” She grabs the Barbie first, cradling it with such care, already babbling about her to her other dolls. The telescope waits, patiently for later, outshone by ten ounces of plastic.
And then Mia clears her throat and pulls back her sleeve.
On her wrist, fresh ink blooms under plastic wrap and reddened skin. It’s the most delicate and beautiful outline of a lily flower.
“For you,” she says, voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Well, mostly for me,” she confesses. “But it’s so you’ll always know… You’re part of me, Lily. Here on my skin,” she points. Then her hand lands on her chest. “And in my heart. Forever.”
Lily freezes. And then she moves like a spider monkey—springing into Mia’s lap, legs wrapped tight around her waist, arms around her neck.
My throat tightens. I can’t look at her wrist for too long without feeling it echo under my ribs. I inked a sun over my heart, and she now carries my Lily on her wrist.
Whenever I think I’ve fallen as far as I can for this woman, she finds a new depth to drag me to. And I go willingly.
“Dad,” she shouts over Mia’s shoulder. “Did you do it?”
I know exactly what she means, but Mia’s too stunned, so she stammers, “Did what?”
I take Mia’s hand first, then murmur, “This,” and kiss her cheek.
Mia blushes crimson, with Lily still hanging off her like a reverse backpack.
“Yay,” Lily cheers, bouncing. “Auntie April kissed Uncle Liam, and he moved here forever. Now Dad kissed you. So you’ll stay forever too, right?”
Not fair. Absolutely not fair for her to be pinned against a wall by a seven-year-old. But it’s Lily’s birthday. So I’m legally bound to give my daughter everything she wants today.
Mia clears her throat, but her eyes are glassy.
“Well, love… it’s a little more complicated than that.
I might have to go back to London once my visa’s up.
There are rules I need to follow. But—” She presses her forehead to Lily’s, whispering, “I’d really like to stay with you two, too. So we’ll figure out a way, yeah?”
First, my daughter gave me her blessing. Now she’s the witness to something bigger. Mia wants to stay.
This is where she belongs, her new home, and she feels it too. A truth so undeniable, it was only a matter of time before she came to terms with it. I knew it. Or I prayed day and night for it. Tomato, tomahto.
My cheeks ache from smiling, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop. She’s ours.
There’s a strange sound in my head, like bolts sliding, pieces clicking into place.
Either I’m losing it, or I just heard the universe say finally.