Chapter 51
Full Circle
Maliyah
"Lucas, where's your Chromebook?" I called out, shoving a granola bar into Zoe's lunchbox while simultaneously trying to find my work ID badge. First Monday back, and if I couldn't get us in gear, we'd definitely be late.
"I don't know!" came the muffled response from his room.
"Check your backpack!"
"I did!"
"Check again!"
Zoe appeared in the bathroom doorway, a white foam ring around her lips, toothbrush still clutched in her tiny fist. For once, I hadn't needed to stand over her counting to sixty or desperately promising her something as a form of bribery.
"Mama," she said, words muffled around the mint paste, "can I wear my butterfly wings to school?" Behind her, the purple and pink glitter-covered wings leaned against the bathtub where she'd propped them.
"No, baby. Regular clothes today." I glanced at the clock. 7:32. Shit. "Go get dressed, please. The pink outfit is on your bed."
The telltale sound of spitting and rinsing made its way to my ears. "I don't want pink!"
"Please, sweetie! Just this once, can we do the pink without making it a thing?"
The knock at the door made me freeze, coffee mug halfway to my lips. Who the hell—
I peeked through the peephole and immediately yanked it open, finding Reed in all his glory—standing there in his work clothes, badge already clipped to his belt, holding a carrier with coffees and a white paper bag that smelled like heaven.
"Thought you might need backup to start out your day," he said, that half-smile making my stomach flutter.
"Reed Morrison, I could kiss you right now."
"Please do."
I laughed, but his eyes darkened, pupils dilating just enough that my breath caught.
The corners of his mouth twitched upward in that way they did when he was holding something back.
My shoulders relaxed at the sight of him—I hadn't realized how tense they'd been since he'd left the other night after our living room dance party, leaving the lightest touch of his lips on my cheek.
Text messages throughout the day yesterday couldn't replace the warmth of his physical presence.
Puffing out a breath of air, I opened the door all the way to let him in. "Kids are in meltdown mode. I can't find my badge ID for work. Lucas lost his Chromebook. Zoe suddenly doesn’t want to wear pink."
"Divide and conquer?" He stepped inside, setting everything on the counter. "Coffee's yours—extra shot, shot of vanilla. Breakfast sandwiches for everyone."
"When did you—"
"Lucas, buddy! Let me help." Reed called out, already making his way toward Lucas's room. "Were you reading before sleep last night? Did you check under your bed?"
A pause, then: "Found it!"
Reed caught my eye over his shoulder with a knowing smile, then raised his voice to reach my daughter in the bathroom. "Zoe, if you get dressed in two minutes, I'll put your hair in a new braid I learned on Youtube."
The sound of small feet thundering toward her room was immediate.
"How did you do that?" I asked, already feeling calmer.
He handed me the coffee. "I'm absolutely not above bribery."
I took a sip and nearly moaned. Perfect. Exactly what I needed.
"I think your badge is hanging up on the hook behind your coat." he added. "I remember seeing it the other night when I grabbed my coat to head back to my apartment."
"Seriously, who are you?"
"Guy who pays attention." He tapped his temple, "Also—I'm psychic." He was already unwrapping breakfast sandwiches, cutting Zoe's into smaller pieces. "You nervous about today?"
"Terrified." I grabbed my badge, clipping it on. "Excited. Ready. The usual emotional cocktail."
"You're going to be great." He said it simply, like it was fact. "You've been missed. I'm positive."
"Mom, I can't find my other shoe!" Lucas appeared, hopping on one foot.
"Kitchen table," Reed and I said in unison, then looked at each other, surprised.
Lucas grabbed his shoe from under the table. "Are you coming to school drop-off too, Reed?"
"Just helping your mom get you guys ready." Reed handed him a wrapped sandwich. "Eat in the car?"
"Okay." Lucas studied him for a moment. "You're good at mornings."
"Thanks, buddy."
Zoe emerged in purple leggings and a dinosaur shirt—not what I'd laid out. Not a stitch of pink either, but she was dressed nonetheless. "Braid time!"
Reed looked at me. "Okay if I...?"
I nodded, my mouth slightly open as Reed lifted Zoe onto a kitchen stool.
He gathered her cloud of curls with practiced hands, sectioning them with the confidence of someone who'd done this before.
My daughter's coils—so different from his own straight hair—yielded to his touch as he misted them with detangler and worked the comb through without a single "ouch" from Zoe.
Within minutes, an intricate pattern emerged, her hair transforming into a neat, inverted French braid that usually took me twice as long to accomplish.
"Where'd you learn that?"
"I've been watching YouTube. And Gloria has three nieces, all with different hair textures—she gave me lessons."
"You learned to braid hair for us?"
He focused on securing the elastic. "Seemed useful."
My chest went tight. Well, damn.
"Done!" Zoe admired herself in the microwave reflection. "Pretty!"
"Very pretty. Now grab your sandwich. Time to go."
The next few minutes were controlled chaos—backpacks, lunchboxes, jackets, shoes.
Reed moved through it all like he'd been doing this dance for years, knowing exactly where to help without taking over.
At the car, he loaded backpacks while I buckled Zoe in.
Lucas climbed into his side, already taking bites of his sandwich.
"Thank you," I said, turning to face Reed in the parking lot. "For all of this."
"Anytime." He reached out, straightening my badge. "You've got this, Maliyah."
Something in his voice, in the way he looked at me—pride and affection and certainty—made me bold.
I grabbed his jacket lapels and pulled him down, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that screamed intent and promise. And yes.
He made a surprised sound against my lips, then his hands found my waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of my blazer.
His breath caught, released in a rush as he pulled me closer, the space between us vanishing.
The kiss deepened, his mouth moving from hesitant to hungry in the span of a heartbeat, like a dam giving way against hurricane force winds.
"Mom!" Lucas called. "We're gonna be late!"
I pulled back, breathless. Reed's eyes were dark, a little stunned.
Through the car window, I caught Lucas's wide-eyed expression and Zoe's delighted clapping.
"Have a good day at work," I said, trying for casual and failing completely.
"Yeah. You too." His voice was rough. "I'll—uh—yeah."
I laughed, backing toward the driver's door. "Smooth talker."
"Yeah. Brain—broke."
"Good."
Harbor House felt exactly the same and completely different.
The smell of coffee and industrial cleaning supplies, the sound of phones ringing and children playing in the distance—all familiar.
But I was different. Walking through the door, I felt like I was stepping into a skin that was mine but with a new fit.
Sharon waved from the reception desk, Keisha called out "Welcome back, boss!
" from the counseling offices, and Martin gave me a mock salute as he headed to the security station.
Normal morning chaos, except for how their smiles lingered longer, their greetings carried extra warmth.
It was amazing to be back. I glanced at the stack of files waiting on my desk, my outlook calendar already bleeding red with back-to-back meetings.
The honeymoon period would obviously be brief.
The week flew by, days beginning and ending with Reed and my kids.
By Thursday evening, I'd settled into the rhythm of work again, but my nerves were still at attention.
Reed and I had seen each other every night that week—drop-offs, quick dinners, bedtime routines—but we'd yet to have any time alone to talk about the kiss.
I stood in my kitchen. The smell of garlic and basil permeated every corner of the apartment. Felicity had brought salad and dessert, the kids were setting the table with only minimal bickering, and Reed was due any minute.
"Use the good plates," I told Lucas. "The ones from the upper cabinet."
"Why?" He was already climbing onto the counter to reach them.
"Because we're having a nice dinner."
"Is it a special occasion?" Zoe asked, carefully folding napkins the way Felicity had taught her.
"No, but it feels like a good day, which calls for the good stuff," I said, my heart racing for some reason.
The knock came right at six. Reed stood on my doorstep holding flowers—not boring roses, but bright gerbera daisies in bright blues and purples.
"You didn't have to—"
"I wanted to." He stepped inside, daisies extended in one hand—his free arm wrapping around my waist. His lips brushed my cheek, then paused there, his stubble grazing my skin as he inhaled against the curve where my neck met my shoulder.
His eyes closed briefly before he pulled back.
"Something with garlic and—mmmm, you made Italian? "
Dinner was loud and perfect. Zoe regaled everyone with a dramatic retelling of the cafeteria's "farting incident," before I shut her down on her dinner conversation etiquette.
Lucas explained a story he was writing for his class project, with Reed asking all the right questions.
Macy jumped in to talk about an upcoming class trip to the Children's Museum.
Felicity kept shooting me knowing looks over her seltzer water—third dinner in a row she'd skipped wine—an unusual choice for my sister who normally loved her chardonnay.
"Can we watch a movie?" Zoe asked as we cleared plates.
"Not tonight," I said. "School tomorrow and baths are on tonight's agenda of fun."