Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Kate
The first thing I notice when I wake up is the light spilling through the blinds in warm stripes across the sheets. The second thing I notice is the empty space beside me. Cam always says good morning, we always spend a few minutes easing into the day together.
For a second, my heart stutters—confusion, disorientation, that split-second panic that comes before memory catches up. The smell of coffee lingers faintly in the air.
That’s when I hear it—a faint whisper-shout from down the hall.
“Shhhh! Your mom is sleeping.”
There’s a giggle. A small, stifled sound that definitely doesn’t belong to Cameron Wells.
Evie.
I shoot upright, instantly wide awake. “Oh my God,” I whisper, fumbling for my phone on the nightstand. It’s 8:37. I never sleep past seven.
Mom mode activates like muscle memory—I throw on my robe, tie the belt in a lopsided knot, and hurry toward the kitchen. The sight waiting for me in the doorway stops me cold.
Evie’s standing on one of the dining chairs, perched safely by the counter, a plastic mixing bowl in front of her and flour up to her elbows. She’s focused on a bowl of pancake batter, stirring slowly.
Cam stands behind her, one hand on the chair to steady it, the other gently guiding her wrist as she stirs. He’s wearing his jeans and white undershirt from last night, barefoot, hair a little messy from sleep.
“Slow circles,” he says in a low voice. “That’s it. Perfect.”
Evie giggles. “It’s lumpy!”
He grins. “Those aren’t lumps, it just means our pancakes will have character.”
“Mom likes smooth pancakes.”
“Well,” he says, leaning close with exaggerated seriousness, “today she’s getting character.”
Evie giggles again, clapping a flour-covered hand over her mouth. “Shhh! You said quiet!”
Cam laughs quietly, wiping a bit of batter off her cheek with a paper towel. “You’re right. Quiet pancakes only. Super stealth breakfast.”
She nods. “Ninja pancakes.”
I bite back a laugh, leaning against the doorframe, my heart doing something soft and unsteady in my chest. The whole scene feels too perfect to touch—Evie’s curls bouncing as she stirs and Cam’s gentle patience.
He catches me watching, his lips curving into a grin. “Morning, Katie.”
Evie gasps, spinning around. “Mom! You were supposed to be asleep!”
“Apparently I was supposed to miss ninja pancakes,” I tease, crossing the room.
Cam straightens, brushing a streak of flour off his forearm. “We were gonna surprise you.”
“You kind of did.” My voice catches slightly, and I hope he doesn’t notice. “This looks…amazing.”
Evie beams. “We made hearts and stars!”
I glance at the skillet and sure enough, the pancakes are misshapen masterpieces. “You two might’ve just outdone Penny’s Café.”
Evie preens. “Told you we’re the best team.”
Cam winks. “You know it, bug.”
I smile, because watching him with her—the easy patience, the laughter, the way he lets her take up space without ever trying to shrink it. My chest tightens with the awareness that something is shifting again. That whatever line I thought we were holding has blurred overnight.
I don’t know what this means yet. I just know I’m standing in the doorway, afraid to move in case I break the moment.