I stand outside, letting the wind blow past me as I watch Morgan slap a card down with triumphant force. She throws both arms in the air and I can't help but laugh when Colt's jaw drops in outrage.
I can't hear them, but they start to argue and Colt slumps backward in the chair like she's just dealt him a fatal blow.
Morgan cackles so hard she nearly falls of the chair… and that sound, Idohear.
"Oh my God…Morgan,"I whisper to myself, my heart fluttering inside my chest.
It's like my little girl has just re-appeared right before my eyes. Because that's the happiest sound I've heard from her in weeks.Months,even.
There was a time, back when Morgan was little, when I used to sit on the kitchen floor just to listen to her laugh. There was no oven timer running, no dough rising, no delivery to prep.
Just her giggle and my whole heart pooling on the linoleum.
I can't remember the last time I stopped long enough to hear it like this.
I take a breath and let the sound sink in. Because this is what our lifecouldlook like.
Not just me and Morgan against the world. Not just cold cereal and tangled hair, rushed bedtimes and that constant, grinding exhaustion that's weighing me down endlessly.
Butthis. Laughter. Warmth. Someonethere.
Colt starts dealing another hand, and right there before my eyes, the image is so vivid, so dangerously easy to imagine, that it makes my throat close.
Don't. Don't do this to yourself. Don't let yourself believe in happy endings.
I take a deep breath and push through the door. The bell chimes, and Morgan's head snaps up from her cards as her eyes go wide.
"MOM!?" Her mouth falls open as she catapults off the stool. "You look like a PRINCESS!"
She crashes into me with the full force of a forty-five-pound wrecking ball, her arms locking around my waist. She pulls back, gripping my hands, turning them over to inspect my nails.
"Yournails! They're so pretty! And your HAIR!" She reaches up to touch a strand, eyes massive. "You're so shiny, Mom."
I laugh, kissing the top of her head. I wrap my arms around her, holding her a little closer than usual. "Thank you, baby."
"Seriously, you look like a movie star. Colt, doesn't she look like a movie star?"
I lift my eyes.
Colt hasn't moved from his chair. His cards are still in his hand, forgotten. His lips are parted, and those bright blue eyes, the ones that usually spark with mischief and easy charm, are completely still.
He's just…staringat me.
And I feel it everywhere.
His gaze traces from my hair down to my lips, lingers there for a moment too long, then drops lower. To my neck. My collarbone. Eventually stopping at the place where my jacket falls open to reveal my chest just slightly.
"Yeah," he says, working through a hard swallow. "Yeah, Morgs. She does."
The air between us tightens like a wire pulled taut, and for one wild second, I think he might cross the room.
And after what he's done for me today, I think I might let him.
Then Morgan starts talking, and the moment shatters.
"Mom, I beat him at Crazy Eightsfour times. FOUR! He's so bad at cards. Like, embarrassingly bad."
"Hey!" Colt tears his gaze away from me, and just like that, the mask clicks back into place. "I let you win. It's calledsportsmanship, you should try it sometime."