Chapter 61 061
EMILY
“Thank you so much for having her tonight, Morgan.”
Morgan crouched in front of Zara and kissed both her cheeks with an exaggerated mwah sound, loud and dramatic, the kind that always made my little girl squeal. Zara giggled instantly, tipping her head back, hands clapping in delight like she had just been personally chosen for a performance.
“It’s nothing, Em,” Morgan said easily. “I really love being around my girl.”
Zara beamed up at her like she had just been crowned royalty, then the two of them turned to look at me, their identical expressions making my chest tighten. It felt like I was standing under a spotlight, suddenly unsure of where to put my hands, my feet, or my entire body.
I sighed and smoothed my palms down the front of my dress for the third time in a minute. The fabric felt unfamiliar against my skin, too soft, too careful, like it belonged to a version of me I had not worn in years. “Is it too much?”
They both shook their heads at the same time, quick and decisive, like they had rehearsed it.
Zara’s eyes went wide and sparkly. “You look like a princess, Mummy.”
Morgan nodded seriously. “A very fancy princess. The kind that lives in a castle and does not do dishes.”
“That sounds accurate,” I muttered.
Something warm bloomed in my chest anyway. I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt, the kind of smile that reached all the way down into my ribs.
I tried to bend down to Zara’s level so I could hug her properly, but the corset of the dress refused to cooperate, stiff and unyielding. I laughed instead, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly light and free, surprising even me. “Well… thank you, baby.”
Zara wrapped her arms around my waist as best as she could and squeezed. “You smell nice too.”
I laughed again. “That would be the expensive perfume Morgan bullied me into wearing.”
“I did not bully,” Morgan said. “I gently guided.”
“You threatened me,” I replied.
Zara giggled against my stomach. “I like it.”
I rested my hand on her hair, breathing her in, grounding myself in the feel of her. For a moment, everything else faded. The nerves. The what ifs. The noise in my head.
I straightened slowly and faced Morgan. My voice dropped without me meaning it to. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”
She studied me for a moment, really looked at me, not just the dress or the nerves or the moment. Then she tilted her head, eyes soft but steady, the way they always were when she was being honest. “As long as your heart thinks it’s right,” she said gently, “then you are.”
Morgan reached out and squeezed my hand, a silent reminder that I wasn’t alone, that I didn’t have to be brave all by myself. For a second, everything felt still. Safe. Like maybe, just maybe, I was allowed to want this.
The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, like it knew it was interrupting something important. The sound cut through the room and my heart jumped, nerves flaring all over again. I sucked in a breath I forgot I was holding and pressed my lips together.
Morgan gave my hand a quick squeeze, the silent kind of encouragement she had mastered over the years. “You’ve got this,” she murmured, low enough that only I could hear.
“I really don’t,” I whispered back.
“You really do,” she said, already walking toward the door.
Ryan stood on the other side.
Dark jeans. Crisp white shirt. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair was still a little damp, like he had just stepped out of the shower and into my life again. He looked good. Too good. The kind of good that made my stomach flip and my palms sweat, the kind that reminded me how easy it was to forget how much he had always undone me.
“Hi,” he said quietly, like he was unsure how loud he was allowed to be.
Morgan eyed him up and down slowly, her expression unreadable. “No flowers?”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “I thought this wasn’t that kind of thing.”
“It is always that kind of thing,” she replied without missing a beat. “But I will let it slide. Tonight only.”
Ryan huffed out a breath. “I feel judged.”
“You should,” she said sweetly.
Before either of them could say anything else, Zara ran straight past Morgan and launched herself at him. “Daddy!”
Ryan scooped her up immediately, like his body had been waiting for it, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Hey, princess.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, already settling in, and something in my chest twisted at how natural it still looked. How easy. How right and painful at the same time.
Then he lifted his gaze and looked at me over Zara’s shoulder. His eyes softened instantly, like everything else faded away.
“You look so good, Emily.”
Heat rushed to my face. I felt the blush climb my cheeks no matter how hard I tried to fight it. “I know. Thanks.”
Morgan snorted behind him.
Ryan laughed softly, like the sound surprised him too, and set Zara back on her feet. “You’ll be staying with your Auntie Morgan, okay?”
Zara’s lip wobbled the moment he said it. Her eyes filled and she shook her head. “No, no.”
My instinct was to move toward her, panic rising, but Morgan beat me to it. She dropped to her knees in front of Zara, her voice gentle and playful. “Why not come with me, okay? We can watch Barbies and have a tea party. I saved the pink cups just for you.”
Zara sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “The shiny cups?”
“The shiniest,” Morgan promised. “And snacks.”
Zara considered this very serious offer, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Ryan smiled at Morgan. “You’re good at this.”
“I know,” she said. “I should charge.”
“Bye, Mummy. Bye, Daddy.”
I dropped to my knees immediately and pulled my baby girl into my arms, holding her tight, breathing her in like I needed the oxygen. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
She nodded against my shoulder, warm and real and grounding in a way nothing else ever was. “Don’t be scared, Mummy.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll try not to be.”
I kissed her hair and forced myself to let go.
Ryan watched us for a second, something unreadable in his expression. “She’s amazing,” he said quietly.
“She really is,” I replied.
Then he held out his hand toward me, tentative but hopeful. “Shall we?”
I stood up, my legs unsteady, and smoothed my dress one last time. “If I trip, pretend it didn’t happen.”
“I absolutely will not,” he said. “I will bring it up forever.”
I rolled my eyes, but my fingers trembled slightly as I placed my hand in his. The moment our palms touched, something familiar sparked to life, quiet but powerful, like a memory my body never forgot.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
I nodded. “Ask me again in five minutes.”
He squeezed my hand once. “Okay.”
As we stepped outside, the night air wrapped around us, cool and full of possibility. The door closed behind us, gentle but final, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself walk forward without looking back.
“Emily,” he said as we reached the car.
“Yes?”
“I’m really glad you said yes tonight.”
I hesitated, then smiled.