Page 94 of If Only In Our Dreams

I’d decided to give her space until she was ready to be comforted.

But apparently the person she’d wanted hadn’t been me.

Because when Robin had showed up, pushing through the front door using the key I’d given him, she’d immediately made a beeline right for him. Her chubby hand had cupped his, tugging him into the corner where she’d hidden earlier. He flashed me a single, concerned glance, but happily followed along.

He’d sat down beside her, silent and careful, and gingerly offered her a shoulder to cry into. And after twenty minutes of whispering back and forth both of them had come into the kitchen with matching smiles on their faces. Robin had told me later that she’d been upset about play practice earlier that day, and he’d offered to help her practice.

After that…there was no stopping the torrent of feelings inside me.

I’d never expected to find a partner. I’d neverlooked. And yet, one had stumbled upon my little nest and found me anyway. It seemed the universe was looking out for me because Robin was the happiest accident I’d ever made.

Which…waswhyI’d asked Mama to watch the girls on a weeknight—which I never did—so that I could take Robin out on a date. A real one. I didn’t give it a name. Because I could see Robin’s wings spread any time I got even remotely serious, ready to take off.

Maybe he just needed more time.

Needed to decide he wanted us as much as we wanted him.

Me

Does seven work?

Robin

Hi, Ben-nana bread

Also, duh

I mean yes

Sorry

That was rude

I think…?

I got excited!

Me

You’re fine. Wear comfortable shoes.

Robin

What does that mean?

I could picture his face so easily then, the little scrunch between his brows, the way he bit his lip piercing when he was confused. He was probably worried I wanted him to wearsomething less flashy so that we wouldn’t stick out, though that was not the case at all.

Me

It means we’re walking and I don’t want you to get blisters.

Robin

Please tell me we’re not going hiking

One of the girls was eyeing my mother’s walls critically, her markers clutched tight.

“Rosie, don’t even think about it,” I said, soft but stern. She slumped, disappointed to have been thwarted.

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