Chapter 18
The morning feels too quiet.
Not empty—never empty when Ava is involved—but softer somehow. Like the house is holding its breath.
Mason is in my kitchen, moving like he's done it a hundred times now without needing to think about it. Coffee. Toast. The quiet, automatic efficiency of someone who wakes up ready to take responsibility for things that aren't his.
Ava is asleep against his chest.
That's the part that still doesn't feel real.
She fell asleep there without crying, without needing me. Just... drifted off mid-feed, little fingers curled into his shirt like she decided he was the safest place in the room and committed to it completely.
And now she's just there.
Breathing softly.
Heavy and trusting.
Mason doesn't move like he wants to disturb her. One hand rests carefully across her back, steady and protective without even trying.
I'm sitting at the counter watching him before I realise I've been doing it for too long.
"You're staring again," he says without looking up.
I blink. "I'm not."
He finally glances over.
I immediately regret existing.
That faint look in his eyes—half amused, half tired—has become dangerously familiar lately.
"You are," he says.
I look down at my mug like it's suddenly very interesting.
Ava shifts slightly against his chest, and he adjusts automatically, his hand smoothing her back without waking her. It's such a small thing, but it does something to me anyway.
"You make it look easy," I say quietly.
Mason hums. "It's not."
That surprises me.
I look up again.
He's watching Ava now, not me.
"She just trusts it," he adds after a moment.
There's something in his voice when he says it. Not proud. Not sentimental. Just... factual. Like he's still a bit surprised by it, too.
I push off the counter slowly.
Move closer.
I don't think about it until I'm already standing beside him.
Ava is warm against his chest. Completely relaxed. One tiny hand is gripping his shirt like she's anchored there.
Mason doesn't move away when I step in.
He watches me carefully.
Like he always does when I get too quiet.
"She doesn't do that with many people," I murmur.
"I know," he says.
My throat tightens slightly at the simplicity of it.
We're both looking at her now.
Not talking.
Just... existing in the same moment.
Mason shifts a fraction so I can see her better without him needing to move her.
His hand is still on her back.
So steady.
So sure.
"You look tired," he says quietly.
"I am tired," I admit.
That earns the faintest shift in his expression—something softer than usual.
"You should sleep later," he says.
"I will."
"You won't."
I huff a quiet laugh despite myself.
He steps slightly closer without realising it—or maybe he does. I can't tell anymore.
The space between us changes.
Not gone.
Just thinner.
Ava sighs softly in her sleep.
Mason looks down at her again, then back at me.
And for a second, everything slows.
The kitchen. The morning. The noise of the world outside the apartment.
It all feels far away.
His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second.
So quick, I almost convince myself I imagined it.
But my body reacts anyway.
Heat in my face—tightness in my chest.
I don't move away.
He doesn't either.
We just—
Hover.
Too close.
Too aware.
Ava shifts slightly between us, and the moment breaks just enough for reality to slip back in.
Mason exhales softly.
Then takes a small step back like he's resetting something in himself.
"I've got to get to base," he says quietly.
It takes me a second to process the words.
"Oh," I say.
Too quickly.
Too disappointed.
I hate that it shows.
He carefully adjusts Ava, still asleep, then gently transfers her into my arms like he's done it before without thinking.
She barely stirs.
Just settles into me instead.
My arms close around her automatically.
Mason watches for a second longer than necessary.
Like he's checking something.
Then he nods once.
"I'll check in later," he says.
"Okay," I whisper.
He pauses at the door.
Just for a moment.
Like something almost gets said.
But doesn't.
Then he's gone.
And the apartment feels different again.
Not empty.
Just... quieter in a way I can feel in my chest.
Ava breathes against me.
And I stand there longer than I need to, still remembering the moment that almost happened.
And wishing it hadn't stopped.