Chapter 26
Seth
The house was quiet again after she left, but it didn’t feel the same kind of quiet as it usually did.
Her laughter still echoed in the space, warm and unexpected.
The dishes we’d used were stacked neatly in the sink, two wine glasses drying on the towel by the stove.
The air still carried the faint scent of garlic and rosemary, wrapped around the memory of Madison sitting at my table, eyes soft for once instead of guarded.
I leaned against the counter and ran a hand down my face. Hell, what was I doing?
Dinner had seemed like a simple enough idea, but Blair had practically shoved me toward it when she took Olive for the night.
A gesture, nothing more. But when Madison walked in and froze in the doorway, her walls cracked just enough for me to see the woman underneath all that armor. It hadn’t felt simple at all.
It felt… natural. Too natural.
I’d spent years keeping this house tight and orderly, a place for sleeping and working, little else.
Tonight, for the first time, it felt like a home.
All because she was sitting across from me, rolling her eyes at my stories, trying not to smile too wide, thanking me in that quiet voice that sounded like it cost her something.
And that was the problem.
I didn’t know how to let someone in anymore. I’d gotten too good building walls, too used to control. Letting her in, letting Olive in, meant opening doors I’d nailed shut a long time ago. Doors that, once open, couldn’t be closed again.
I thought about the way Olive had drawn me in her pictures, always fixing something, always present. And the way Madison’s shoulders had eased, just a fraction, as she ate the meal I’d put in front of her. They were looking at me like I was someone they could lean on.
And maybe I could be, for now. I could fix the house. I could keep them safe. I could give them time.
But what happened after?
What happened when their roof was repaired, when the insurance company finally pulled their head out of their ass, when Madison packed up her things and walked out of the guesthouse?
The thought of that night, of her and Olive leaving the same way they’d walked in, strong, determined, and completely out of reach, made my chest ache in a way I didn’t want to admit.
I scrubbed at the plates harder than necessary, forcing myself into the rhythm of it. Wash, rinse, dry. Simple. Contained. Unlike the mess in my head.
By the time I put the last dish in the cupboard, the house was spotless again. But I couldn’t shake the truth pressing in on me.
I wanted more.
And wanting more was dangerous.
Because once Madison Cole and her little girl became part of my world, I wasn’t sure I’d remember how to live without them.
I turned out the lights and went upstairs, but sleep didn’t come easily. I laid awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the echo of her laugh in the empty house, wondering how long I could keep pretending I wasn’t already too far gone.