Page 14 of This Is Our Forever

Before I can turn off the engine, the front door flies open. Mom rushes out, her face alight with joy. Her silver hair is swept into a loose bun, stray wisps framing her face. She’s wearing her favorite sunflower apron, and the sight of it makes my throat tighten.

I climb out of the car, legs stiff from the drive, and open the back door to unbuckle Dylan. He stirs, and his eyelids flutter. He sighs.

“Hey, little man,” I whisper and brush a curl from his forehead. “We’re here.”

He blinks up at me, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Grandma’s house?”

I nod and smile back. “That’s right. Ready to see her?”

He wraps his arms around my neck, and I lift him from the car seat as Mom reaches us, arms wide, her eyes shimmering. “Oh, my darlings.” She pulls us into a hug that smells of vanilla and home. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I bury my face in her shoulder and let the comfort of her embrace wash over me. For a moment, I’m a little girl again, safe in my mother’s arms, far from the world’s troubles.

The moment breaks with Dylan’s eager wiggling. “Grandma!”

He stretches toward her, and she takes him with a laugh, smothering his face in kisses until he giggles. “There’s my favorite grandson,” she coos and settles him on her hip. “I’ve missed you so much, my little love.”

My heart swells watching them together. Amid all the uncertainty, this bond—between grandmother and grandson—is pure and unshakable.

Mom turns to me and cups my cheek. “And you. How are you holding up?”

I lean into her touch and close my eyes. “I’m…okay. Just tired. It’s been a lot.”

She nods. “I can imagine. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters. Come inside. I’ve got fresh cupcakes waiting.”

The mention of cupcakes makes Dylan squeal. “Cupcakes, cupcakes, cupcakes!”

Mom laughs and carries him toward the house while I grab our bags from the trunk.

Inside, the sweet scent of baking wraps around me like a warm blanket. Mixing bowls clutter the counters, and a dusting of flour covers every surface. In the center of the island sits a platter of cupcakes, their frosting swirled in perfect peaks of pink and yellow.

“Strawberry and lemon,” Mom announces, setting Dylan down on a stool. “Your favorites.”

A lump rises in my throat. It’s such a small thing, yet it reminds me of how deeply she knows and loves me.

“Thanks, Mom.” My voice wavers a little. “They look amazing.”

She smiles and places a hand on my shoulder. “Anything for my girl.”

She helps Dylan out of his jacket as he chatters about the drive, the cows we passed, and the songs we sang. She listens and smiles.

We gather around the island, Dylan on his knees, two-fisting a cupcake. I peel the wrapper from a lemon one, the tangy sweetness hitting my nose. The first bite melts in my mouth, the bright citrus cutting through the last of my tension.

For a moment, it’s just this—the kitchen’s warmth, the sound of Dylan’s laughter, the simple pleasure of homemade treats. The weight of the outside world lifts, replaced by peace.

But even as I savor the calm, the weight of my secrets presses in. I can’t hide forever. I’ll have to face Nathan and the lies that tore us apart.

An icy knot forms in my stomach, twisting tighter. I take another bite of the cupcake, letting the sweetness chase away the bitterness.

“Mommy, look!”

I see him holding up a cupcake, his hands and face smeared with frosting. His blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

I laugh and wipe a smudge from his cheek. “I see, baby. You’re making quite the mess.”

He grins, his little nose scrunching up. “It’s yummy!”

I smile, my heart full to bursting. “I’m glad. But let’s try to eat more and wear less, okay?”

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