Page 72 of Lovewell Lane

I wasn’t sure what shifted. Maybe it was the light or the impossible scale of the creatures around us. Maybe it was the way Margo instinctively matched Tessa’s needs. Or maybe it was just me, finally slowing down enough to notice.

Whatever it was, something settled into place inside my chest. A quiet realization.

Not wanting to miss out on this moment any longer, I stepped up next to them and glanced at Margo. She caught my eye and gave me a soft smile. My fingers brushed against hers cautiously. Her hand found mine, and I intertwined our fingers before giving her hand a squeeze.

She didn’t let go.

And neither did I.

-

Tessa’s eyes blinked slowly as I brushed her hair out of her face. She’d had a long, tiring day, and I was ready for us both to get a good night’s sleep. This was the first day in months that I’d taken off since summer began, and I made a promise to myself to ensure I did it more often.

Running our business was important, but Tessa would always come first.

It was easy to lose sight of that in the day-to-day. We spent so much time together that I forgot to make time to have special days like this. We needed more of these.

Tessa wrapped her arms around the plush seahorse that I bought for her at the aquarium. “Did you have fun today?” I asked softly.

She hummed in response. “The otters were so cute. And the whale sharks were so big,” she said sleepily. I was half convinced she was sleep talking.

“Me too,” I murmured. “It was a great day.”

“Do you think Margo had fun?”

I smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “I’m sure she did. She seemed very happy.”

Tessa gave me a sleepy smile and nod. “I like when Margo does things with us.”

“I know you do,” I said, brushing her hair back softly. “I do too.”

I sat there for a beat longer than I needed to. Listening to the sound of Tessa’s breathing evening always calmed me, it was something that I did every night when she was a baby, and I was desperate for any sense of calmness. When I was sure she was asleep, I stood and quietly left the room, closing her door behind me.

The hallway was dimly lit. Only the soft yellow glow from the kitchen spilled across the floor, stretching long shadows toward my feet. I padded down the hall, barefoot, shoulders tight with nerves.

Margo was standing at the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water. The clink of dishes echoed lightly off the tile. The silence felt like a warm blanket on us. Sometimes, when it was just me, the silence of the big house felt like it was swallowing me whole.

She didn’t look up when I entered, but I knew she heard me.

I leaned against the doorway and watched her for a moment. Her movements were slow and methodical. Her hair was down now, no longer held up by the clip that it was in all day today. Her shoes were by the back door, kicked off carelessly.

She looked like she was right at home.

And I’d never wanted anything to be more true.

25

Margo

“You don’t have to do that,” Derek said.

I shrugged. “Cleaning is calming for me, lately. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks for today,” he murmured, stepping closer to me.

I rinsed another plate, watching the suds run down the drain. “It was fun.”

Derek walked closer and bumped my hip with his. He picked up a dish towel and held out his hand for me to give him the plate I had just rinsed. I watched him dry the plate carefully, taking more time than necessary to dry it off completely.

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