Page 46 of Not For Keeps
Her eyes light up. “They’d love that. You might regret it, though.”
“Nah,” I say, nudging her shoulder with mine. “For you, I’d risk it.”
She holds my gaze for a second longer than usual. There’s something in her expression, something I can’t name, but it makes my chest go tight in the best kind of way.
Maya eventually yawns, dragging her blanket toward the couch. “I’m tired, but I don’t wanna go to bed yet.”
Analyse scoops her into her arms. “Go brush your teeth, mamita. I’ll come tuck you in.”
“Okay,” Maya says sleepily, with a full mouth of cookie crumbs.
While she’s in the bathroom, Analyse gathers her blanket and wipes down the crumbs.
“You’re good at this,” I murmur. “The mom thing.”
She shrugs. “Most days I feel like I’m winging it.”
“You’re doing better than most.”
“You’re just saying that,” she says quietly.
I stand, close the space between us, and gently place both hands on either side of her face. “Lyse,” I say, my voice low but firm. “I need you to listen to me carefully, okay? Are you listening?”
She nods, eyes wide, unsure.
“You’re an amazing mother. Every single thing you do—every single move you make—is with Maya at the center of it. You love in a way most people forget how to. Completely. Unshakedly. So I want you to say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re amazing. Say it.”
“Mateo…” she starts, shaking her head, “I don’t think?—”
“Nope. Not letting it go. Say it.”
She lets out a breath, almost a laugh, but then— “Fine. I’m amazing.”
“Louder.”
“I’M AMAZING!!” she shouts, smiling now, despite herself.
I grin, brushing my thumbs across her cheeks. “Good girl. Now don’t you ever forget it.”
When she comes back from putting Maya down, I’m leaning back on the couch. She sinks into the cushion beside me and tucks her legs under her. She pulls a throw blanket over both our laps without asking.
I glance down at her. “This part of the fake dating package?”
She smirks, not looking at me. “Don’t get used to it.”
Too late. Way too damn late.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, watching some guy panic over burnt cupcakes. I don’t know when it happens exactly, but her head ends up resting on my shoulder. It feels good. Like it belongs there. I don’t move. I just let myself feel it. The warmth of her. The rise and fall of her breath. The quiet.
Then—her phone buzzes on the coffee table. She doesn’t move right away. But then she straightens up a little, reaches for it, and unlocks the screen. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her smile fades. Her whole body stills.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She nods too quickly. “Yeah. Just…I forgot I have an early morning tomorrow.”
