Especially not as Lucy looked up at her from where she sat on the couch, looking utterly miserable, her fingers toying lightly with her stuffed dog’s ears, as she asked, “When do you think my mama will be home?”
Charlotte sat next to her, placing her phone on the table in front of them as she answered, “Soon.”
Based on Sutton’s location, though, it might still take an hour or so before she arrived.
“Can I lay with you until she’s back?” Wide baby blues dug right into Charlotte’s chest as she froze at the question. “Please? Usually Mama rubs my tummy when it hurts, but you don’t have to. My mama said to remember you aren’t auntie Regan, and I remember, but, um… please?”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
It was there, in this moment, with those heartbreaking eyes coupled with the heartfelt tone and the sheepish, shy look on Lucy’s face that Charlotte just…felt it. This little girl was so much of Sutton; she was precious.
And she couldn’t say no to that, she found.
“Sure. Yes.” She hesitated for a minute, unsure of where to lay on the couch. How did one cuddle with such a small person?
The answer was made for her when Lucy crawled up to her, sliding her legs over Charlotte’s lap and just flopping her body against Charlotte’s. She fell back against the couch with the movement, and Lucy’s head fell against her shoulder.
She snuggled in, feeling like a mini space heater, her soft, wavy, strawberry-blonde hair tickling at Charlotte’s neck.
She wrapped an arm around Lucy’s back automatically before draping the other over her knees. This wasn’t half bad or nearly as uncomfortable as she might have thought. Lucy’s breath puffed against her as she turned her face closer into Charlotte, wiggling to get impossibly closer.
“Will you come back?” Lucy asked, her voice noticeably sleepy. “I had fun tonight.”
Charlotte was surprised to realize how endearing she found it.
Gently, she rubbed her hand over Lucy’s back, feeling her relax minutely against her. The more her little body fell into Charlotte’s, the more relaxed she felt herself melt into the couch.
“I’ll come back,” she murmured, and she meant it.
She knew she would because of Sutton, but the Lucy aspect of Sutton… well, Charlotte hadn’t known exactly what to expect. She knew she wanted Sutton enough that she would figure it out.
But, well, maybe it would be easier than she thought.
Lucy yawned widely before pressing her face against Charlotte, and she looked down at her little face. She could recognize the bits of Sutton there, especially now, while she was so still. The slope of her nose, the shape of her face, her ears, the set and color of her eyes. That thought may have melted her even more.
Yes, it would definitely be easier than she’d originally thought. She closed her eyes and settled back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
There wasa belief Sutton had picked up in the last decade or so that she hadn’t been able to quite kick, the steadfast idea that if things were goingtoowell, the other shoe was sure to drop down at any moment and ruin things. Or, at the very least, complicate them.
There were times now, when things were going well in her life, that she braced herself for the inevitable fallout.
She hadn’t always been this way. It took a while, but there came a time when it was too hard to be so hopeful and faithful, only to feel like life was kicking her in the stomach.
Like when she’d thought everything was going well in her relationship with Charlotte—admittedly, it had been her own naïve fault for believing Charlotte had been on the same emotional page as she was—and then she’d just not seen the breakup coming.
Or when she’d believed everything was going well between herself and Layla. They were settled in D.C., she’d just picked up her job again when Lucy turned two, and then Layla left her for her ex.
That wasn’t even really to speak of the relationships before that, which, obviously, had been awful.
This time, though, things were going so well, and she couldn’t really let herself be nervous or anxious over it.
Because it reallywasjust this simple, and it wasn’t involving her personal life or anything like that.
Lucy was perfect. The highlight of her life, as always. She’d just lost two teeth, signed up for skateboarding lessons, and had finalized her list for Santa by November first, as Sutton—or, Santa—always preferred.
Her courses were going well; she was entering into some of her favorite course material that they would be working with until the end of the semester.