Chapter Fourteen
Edwina
The day began so well that, for a few hours, I let myself believe nothing could touch it.
I had taken the day off from the university for Helena’s birthday, and from the moment I woke up, the apartment felt lighter. Winter light slipped through the curtains, and for once my first thought was not Hayden, or the past, or any of the worries waiting outside this day.
It was Helena.
My little girl sleeping in the next room. My whole world turning another year older.
By late morning, the apartment had turned into birthday chaos. Balloons floated near the ceiling, ribbons covered the coffee table, and banners were spread across the couch while Giselle and I tried to choose one that would not hurt my eyes by noon.
“Helena will love this one,” Giselle said, holding up a banner with glitter on the letters.
“She’ll love anything with glitter.”
“Then why are you looking at it like it offended you?”
“Because it did.”
Giselle laughed. Daniel looked up from the ribbons in his hands. “For the record, I think the glitter one wins.”
Giselle pointed at him. “See? Daniel has taste.”
“He’s choosing whatever gets him out of ribbon duty faster.”
“That too,” Daniel said, lifting the tangled ribbons. “These are impossible.”
“They’re ribbons,” I said.
“They’re a trap.”
I laughed and took the banner from Giselle. “Fine. Glitter wins. Help me before I change my mind.”
Daniel stood and dragged the chair beneath the wall for me. I climbed up, reached for the corner, and pressed the tape into place while Giselle stepped back to judge the result.
“This is not steady,” I said.
“It is perfectly steady,” Daniel answered, one hand braced against the back of the chair.
“It moved.”
“It did not.”
“It absolutely did.”
From below, Giselle folded her arms. “If she falls, I am blaming both of you.”
“You always blame me,” Daniel muttered.
“That is because you usually deserve it.”
I smiled to myself and stretched a little farther, trying to fix one side of the banner so it would hang evenly. For one brief second, I thought I had it.
Then the chair shifted.
A startled breath left me as my balance slipped. My hand flew toward the wall and missed, and before I could fall, Daniel caught me.
It happened fast, messy to feel real. One moment I was tipping sideways off the chair, and the next Daniel’s hands were on me, one at my waist, the other around my arm as he pulled me down.
I landed against him harder than either of us expected, my palm pressed against his shoulder while the banner hung half-taped above us.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Daniel’s hands stayed on me. Mine stayed on him. My heart was racing from the fall, and when I lifted my head, I found him already looking at me. His expression carried something I did not know how to name, something he seemed to catch a second too late.
He let go quickly.
“You should’ve said you were leaning that far,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before.
“I did not know I was going to fall,” I replied, still trying to recover enough dignity to stand properly.
“That makes two of you,” Giselle said.
I turned toward her, grateful for the interruption, only to find her staring at us with a look that made warmth crawl into my face for all the wrong reasons.
“Oh,” she said slowly.
“Oh, nothing,” I said at once.
“I did not say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was merely observing,” she replied, sounding far too innocent.
Daniel had already stepped back by then, clearing his throat as he reached for the fallen tape with more focus than the tape deserved.
Giselle watched him for a second, then looked at me again, her smile becoming impossible to misread.
“Well,” she said, “at least now we know Daniel’s reflexes work when properly motivated.”
“Giselle,” I warned.
“What?” she asked, widening her eyes. “He caught you like a man in a romance movie. I’m simply respecting the moment.”
“It was normal.”
“Mm.”
“It was.”
From the floor, Daniel muttered, “Can we please continue before the banner ends up living on the carpet?”
That only made Giselle grin wider.
I climbed back onto the chair, more careful this time, aware of the awkwardness that had settled over the room.
My embarrassment came from nearly falling and from Giselle being Giselle, but Daniel had gone quiet in a way that was hard to ignore.
His movements were smaller now, his answers shorter, and even without looking at him, I could feel the shift.
Giselle noticed, of course.
A few minutes later, while Daniel went to the kitchen to bring more tape, she leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“I think Daniel has a tiny problem.”
I kept my eyes on the banner. “No, he does not.”
“Oh, he absolutely does.”
“He caught me because I was falling.”
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head. “And for a second, he looked like he was falling too.”
I glanced at her despite myself.
Giselle smiled. “Just not off the chair.”
I nearly laughed. “You are making things up.”
“I am never wrong about these things.”
“You are often wrong about these things.”
She placed a hand against her chest as though wounded. “That hurts, Edwina.”
I fixed the banner into place and stepped down carefully. “You are reading too much into an accident.”
Giselle gave me a look that said she disagreed completely.
“Fine,” she said. “Maybe. But if he starts acting weird for the rest of the day, I want credit for noticing first.”
I shook my head, trying to dismiss it, though a part of me wondered if she had seen something I was choosing not to examine. And when I glanced toward the kitchen doorway a moment later and found Daniel already looking away, a little too fast, I decided it was probably best not to mention it again.
A little later, while we were arranging plates and party hats, my phone buzzed on the counter.
When I saw Aster and Gwen calling, warmth moved through me at once.
I answered, and their faces appeared together on the screen, both of them bundled in coats, cheeks pink from the cold.
They started talking over each other before I could even say hello.
“Happy birthday to my baby!” Gwen cried.
“Happy birthday to my most favorite person on earth,” Aster added.
I laughed, already missing them. “You two have not even said hello to me.”
“Hello, Edwina,” Gwen said quickly. “Now show us the birthday girl.”
“She is still with Mrs. Graham, getting ready for a little while,” I said, angling the phone as I walked back toward the living room. “I am using the quiet while I still have it.”
Aster smiled when she saw the decorations behind me. “It looks beautiful already.”
“That is because I was involved,” Giselle called from across the room, stepping into view.
“And because I carried everything,” Daniel added from behind her.
Gwen brightened. “Daniel is there too? Good. At least one responsible adult made it.”
I covered my mouth, laughing, while Giselle turned and pointed at Daniel as if Gwen’s comment had somehow become his fault.
Aster’s smile softened. “We wanted to call before everything got busy. We are going to be in London for Christmas break.”
I froze for a second, then my face lit up. “You are?”
Gwen nodded. “Both of us. We already decided. We are stealing at least one full day of your holiday.”
“You are not stealing anything,” I said. “I’m giving it to you willingly.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Aster said.
“And,” Gwen added, lifting a finger, “I expect café visits, pretty streets, Christmas lights, and pastries that fix at least three emotional problems.”
That made all of us laugh, and for a little while, everything felt lighter. The apartment, the party preparations, the voices on the screen, all of it wrapped around me in a way I had needed more than I realized.
When the call ended, I stood there with my phone still in my hand and looked around the apartment.
The balloons were up. The cake waited in the kitchen.
Gifts were stacked by the table, Helena’s Frozen plates were laid out, and the ribbon around her present caught the light whenever I passed.
Giselle was fixing the tablecloth, while Daniel stood by the window, adjusting the balloon strings so they would stop tangling together.
Everything had started perfectly. Maybe that was why some part of me should have known life would not let me keep it that way.
By the afternoon, the apartment was full.
Children’s laughter moved from room to room, coats piled near the door, and music played beneath the chatter.
Helena ran through it all with the bright, breathless joy only a child could have on her birthday.
Every time I looked at her, my chest ached in the best and worst way.
She wore the pink dress she had chosen at least three times during the week, proud of it because it matched mine. She kept smoothing the skirt with both hands, smiling at everyone as if the whole day had been made for her.
And it had.
When it was time for the cake, everyone gathered around the table. The candles flickered in front of her, light moving across her face as I stood beside her with one hand near her back. Giselle and Daniel took their places on the other side, and the room began to sing.
Helena’s eyes shone so brightly that, for one aching second, I thought if life gave me nothing else after this, it would still have been enough.
She took a breath and blew out the candles. Everyone clapped. The children cheered, and Helena grinned so wide I felt it in my own chest. When she began handing out the first pieces of cake, she gave one to me with the serious importance only a four-year-old could manage.
“This one is for Mommy.”
I bent down and kissed her hair. “Thank you, my sweet girl.”
The next piece went to Giselle, who pressed a hand to her heart. “For me? I’m honored.”
Helena giggled. “You have to eat all of it.”