Chapter 35
Madison
The silence after the kiss was almost louder than the cicadas. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it, and my lips still tingled from the press of his mouth against mine.
I leaned back slightly, just enough to breathe, and searched his face for regret, for hesitation, for anything that might shatter the fragile calm that had settled over us.
But there was nothing like that in his eyes.
There was only Seth, watching me with a steady intensity that made me feel both seen and safe.
I reached for my glass on the railing, needing something to do with my hands, but they trembled as I lifted it. He noticed. Of course he did.
“You all right?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, though my throat felt tight. “Yeah. Just… a little overwhelmed.”
His lips curved into the faintest smile. “Me too.”
The honesty in those two words hit me harder than anything else tonight.
I exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from my shoulders.
For years, I had convinced myself that closeness was dangerous, that letting someone in was opening the door to heartbreak.
But Seth Cunningham had just kissed me like it was a promise, and for once, I didn’t want to run from it.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted.
“Neither was I,” he said, his hand brushing mine on the arm of the chair. He didn’t press, didn’t push for more. Just left his fingers resting there, warm and steady. “But I don’t regret it.”
A small laugh escaped me, shaky and unsteady. “Me either.”
We sat like that for a long while, the night wrapping around us like a secret. Every so often, I would glance at him, and he would already be looking at me, like he was trying to memorize this moment as much as I was.
When Olive stirred inside, murmuring in her sleep on the monitor, I knew I should go. I stood, smoothing my hands over my shorts, trying to steady myself. “I should check on her.”
Seth rose too, stepping back just enough to give me space but still close enough that I could feel the heat of him. “Goodnight, Madison.”
“Goodnight,” I whispered, my chest tightening.
As I crossed the yard and slipped back into the guest house, I paused at the door, my hand on the frame. For the first time in a very long time, I felt lighter. Like maybe the pieces of my life were finally shifting into place, one fragile step at a time.
And as I lay down beside Olive, listening to her soft breaths, I touched my fingers to my lips and let myself smile. Because tonight, I had taken that step. And I wanted to believe there was no turning back.