Chapter 62 Chapter 62

Chapter 62 Chapter 62
I woke to the sound of someone arguing with the coffee maker.
For a moment, I stayed beneath the blankets, listening to Mike mutter downstairs while cabinet doors opened and closed. Drew answered in his usual calm voice, followed by Jake's unmistakable laugh.
The house sounded...normal.
That, more than anything, got me out of bed.
By the time I reached the kitchen, Mike was glaring at the coffee maker while Drew calmly fixed whatever he'd done to it. Jake lounged at the island in sleep pants and a faded T-shirt, and Josh sat at the far end with a tablet propped beside his mug.
"You broke it," Jake said.
"I did not."
"You definitely threatened it."
"It started it."
Drew pulled a coffee pod out of the machine and held it up.
"You put it in backward."
Mike frowned.
"That shouldn't even be possible."
"And yet."
Jake noticed me first.
"Morning, sleeping beauty."
Mike turned, ready with another complaint before pointing dramatically at the coffee maker.
"Tell them this thing's defective."
"It's definitely you," I said.
Jake grinned.
"She's back."
Laughter rippled through the kitchen.
It wasn't loud, but it wasn't forced either.
For a few precious seconds, the biggest crisis in the house was Mike losing a fight with a coffee pod.
Drew slid a plate of eggs, toast, and fruit in front of me before I even sat down.
"You don't have to keep feeding me."
"I know."
"But you're going to anyway."
"Yes."
Mike lifted his coffee triumphantly.
"He only does this because we enable him."
"You ate three helpings of pasta last night," Josh said without looking up.
"That was survival."
"That was greed," Jake corrected.
The conversation drifted from there, wandering from food to old stories and back again until footsteps crossed the floor above us.
Patrick appeared in the doorway, already dressed, a phone pressed to his ear.
His eyes found mine immediately.
Something in his expression eased.
"I'll call you back."
He slipped the phone into his pocket and crossed the room.
Mike lifted his mug.
"Coffee machine nearly killed me."
Patrick looked at Drew.
"He put the pod in backward."
Patrick looked back at Mike.
"You deserved it."
Jake laughed so hard he nearly dropped his fork.
Breakfast settled into the comfortable rhythm I'd almost forgotten existed. Rain tapped against the windows while Jake launched into a story about Mike trying to cook breakfast years ago.
"The eggs bounced," Jake insisted.
"They were firm."
"They hit the ceiling."
I looked at Drew.
He nodded solemnly.
"One stayed there for two days."
The laugh escaped before I could stop it.
The kitchen fell quiet for just a heartbeat.
Jake looked down at his plate.
Drew smiled into his coffee.
Mike forgot whatever comeback he'd been preparing.
Beneath the island, Patrick's knee brushed mine.
Just once.
Warm.
Steady.
Enough.
The rain never let up.
By late morning, breakfast dishes had disappeared, Josh had relocated to the living room with the security feed running silently on his tablet, and Mike had declared the weather legally required a movie marathon.
"It's ten-thirty," Drew pointed out.
"It's raining."
"So?"
Mike spread his arms.
"Rain changes the rules."
Jake was already scrolling through streaming services.
"No horror."
Mike groaned.
"Your taste is terrible."
"My taste keeps everyone sleeping."
"That's not the point of movies."
Patrick answered two quick calls before finally walking into the living room and dropping onto the couch beside me.
This time, when his phone buzzed again, he silenced it without answering.
No one commented.
Drew returned from the kitchen balancing popcorn, drinks, and enough snacks to feed twice as many people.
"You planned this," Jake accused.
"I prepared."
"That's the same thing."
"No."
Mike accepted the popcorn anyway.
The movie eventually started.
Nobody paid much attention to the first twenty minutes.
Jake narrated scenes that didn't need narrating.
Mike argued with the characters' decisions.
Josh occasionally glanced toward the muted security feed before returning to the television.
Patrick stayed beside me.
No phone.
No meetings.
No disappearing.
Just...here.
I hadn't realized how badly I'd needed that until now.
None of them said they were trying to distract me.
They didn't ask if I was okay.
They didn't tell me everything would be fine.
Instead, they argued over bad dialogue, stole handfuls of popcorn, and made the house feel lived in again.
Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Jake did an impossibly bad impression of the lead actor.
Mike threw popcorn at him.
Jake caught it in his mouth.
Drew applauded once.
Even Josh looked away from the security feed long enough to smile.
My laugh came easier this time.
Louder.
Real.
For the first time since the courthouse, I forgot to wonder who might be watching.
I forgot to wait for the next terrible thing to happen.
I simply sat between Jake and Patrick while rain tapped softly against the windows and everyone argued over whether Mike's movie had always been this bad.
For one ordinary, wonderful moment...
The house felt like home again.
The gate intercom buzzed.
Every conversation died.
Patrick was already on his feet before the second buzz.