Page 26 of Make You Mine

It’s dimmer out in the hall, the soft light from our bedroom spilling across the floor. I make my way down the corridor and peek into the nursery. Emmett’s still fast asleep, knocked out from all the excitement of the day.

Willow’s room is next.

Chelsea appears before I can reach the door, offering a small, tentative smile.

“She’s alright,” she says. “Still a bit shaken, but mostly just feeling guilty for wandering off. I gave her an extra cookie to cheer her up. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. We tried explaining it wasn’t her fault.”

“Little ones always take things to heart. Especially when they hear Mum and Dad having a go at each other.”

A pang of guilt hits me as it occurs to me she probably heard us. I heave a sigh and tell Chelsea I’ll meet her downstairs. First I have to check on Willow myself.

I can tell from the first moment I enter my little girl is still guilt ridden. She’s curled up in her bed and as her big, browneyes meet mine, she can’t even bring herself to smile like she normally would.

“Hey, Mommy,” she mumbles.

“Hey, Lo. How are you feeling?”

“Not so good…”

I reach out and smooth her braided hair. “Listen, baby… you know Daddy and me… we’re not mad at you, right? We don’t like it when you wander off. Please don’t do it again, okay?”

She nods, eyes downcast. “I know.”

“We love you so much, Lo. More than anything. And we just want you safe.”

She sniffles. “Okay. But, Mommy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Don’t fight with Daddy anymore.”

My breath catches. “We weren’t trying to fight. We were just really worried.”

“Chels said that.” She looks up at me, blinking wide, innocent eyes. “She said you didn’t mean it.”

“Is that what she told you?”

Willow nods. “She said it’s not my fault. That sometimes grown-ups get scared and say stuff they don’t mean.”

I press a kiss to her forehead, fingers still stroking her hair. “She’s right about that part. It’s not your fault, baby. Not one bit.”

When I come downstairs, Chelsea’s curled up on the sofa, scrolling through her phone with her coat folded neatly across her lap. She looks up and sets her phone aside the moment she sees me.

“How’s she doing?” she asks in a gentle tone.

I sigh and lower myself onto the loveseat across from her, the dense cushions almost swallowing me up.

“Better. Just tired. Honestly, I think we all are. It’s been a day.”

“You, especially,” she says, tipping her head. “You gave us all a proper scare. Did Frans ever say what happened with the cupcake?”

“They said it must’ve been a mix-up.”

She tuts under her breath, shaking her head. “Some mix-up. You could’ve landed in A&E.”

“I know.” I rub a hand over my face, the headache from earlier pulsing behind my eyes. “I just… I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’s been one thing after another lately.”

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