THEO
I woke to the sound of something soft and steady.
Breathing.
For a second, I didn’t know where I was. The living room lamp still glowed dim in the corner. The television had long since gone to its black inactive screen.
And Nora was asleep on my chest.
Her cheek was pressed just below my collarbone, one arm tucked between us, the other draped loosely across my ribs like she’d anchored herself there without meaning to.
I must have dozed off.
My neck already ached from the awkward angle of the couch. If I stayed like this much longer, I’d feel it tomorrow.
“Okay,” I murmured quietly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
But she didn’t respond.
Just shifted slightly, nuzzling closer as if she was chasing warmth in her sleep.
I stilled.
She was not aware of who she was curled up against. I was fairly certain of that. Because if she’d been fully coherent, she wouldn’t be tucked into my side like this.
But… it felt nice.
Too nice.
But I also knew that if I didn’t get upstairs soon, I’d wake up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.
Carefully, I slid my arm out from beneath her shoulders. She made a small sound of protest but didn’t wake. I eased forward, then slipped one arm behind her knees and the other around her back.
She was warm.
Lighter than I expected.
When I stood, she stirred, lashes fluttering.
“Theo?” she mumbled, barely there.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
She relaxed almost immediately, trusting in a way that did something unsettling to my chest.
I carried her up the stairs slowly, mindful of each step. The house was quiet. Still. Nothing like the chaos of earlier.
In the guest room, I nudged the door open with my shoulder and crossed to the bed. I laid her down carefully on top of the covers, trying not to jostle her too much.
She turned slightly onto her side.
At the foot of the bed, the soft minky blanket Lucy had insisted I buy last winter was folded neatly. I pulled it up and draped it over Nora, tucking it gently around her shoulders.
She let out a small sigh.
Content.
Safe.
My chest tightened at the sound.
For a moment, I just stood there in the moonlight coming through the window. It caught in her hair, highlighting the curl that had fallen across her cheek. Her face looked softer in sleep. Like the night hadn’t nearly taken everything from her.
I told myself the heaviness in my chest was just leftover adrenaline. Protective instinct. The same feeling I got when I checked on Charlotte at night to make sure her breathing was steady.
That’s all this is.
But when I reached out without thinking and brushed the curl away from Nora’s face, my hand wanted to linger.
And out of nowhere, I suddenly had the urge to bend down and press my lips to her forehead. The way I always did with Charlotte when I tucked her in.
But Nora wasn’t my daughter.
She was a grown woman. My sister’s best friend.
My employee.
And I was already walking a line I had no business approaching.
So I stepped back.
Let the moment go.
Then I slipped out of the room, easing the door shut behind me.