Page 45 of Worth the Fall

We laugh and quicken our pace to catch up with her, but as we do, I notice something. Mia’s responses have been shorter today, her usual quick wit dimmed. She smiles, she laughs, but there’s something quieter about her, like she’s keeping part of herself at a distance.

When we reach the giraffe enclosure, Felicity presses her hands against the glass, completely mesmerized by the tall, graceful creatures. Mia takes a step closer to her, crouching down to point something out, and I use the moment to study her.

The way her shoulders are slightly tense, the way her gaze shifts quickly between Felicity and the giraffes—it’s subtle, but I notice. Something’s on her mind.

When she straightens up, I step closer. "Hey," I say softly, "you okay?"

She looks up at me, her lips curving into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. I’m fine."

I tilt my head, unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

Her smile widens a little, and she nods. "I promise. Just a little tired. Work’s been crazy."

Before I can press further, she steps over to join Felicity, leaving me standing there, unease twisting in my chest.

I lean against the railing, watching her crouch beside my daughter, pointing out the way one of the giraffes is curling its tongue around a branch. Felicity giggles, completely enchanted, and Mia laughs softly beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

I want to believe her, but the way she dodged the question doesn’t sit right with me. Is she overwhelmed? Maybe getting this involved in my life and Felicity’s is moving too fast for her.

Or… is it something else?

The thought of Cameron creeps in, uninvited. Ever since she told me she was meeting with him, there’s been this flicker of worry in the back of my mind. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

But what if I’m not?

I shake my head, forcing the thought away. Today is supposed to be about Felicity, about fun and laughter and making memories. Mia said she’s fine. I just have to trust her.

We spend the next couple of hours exploring the zoo, and Felicity’s enthusiasm is boundless. She darts from exhibit to exhibit, pointing out every animal with wide-eyed excitement. The penguins are her favorite—she watches them waddle and dive with a delighted squeal, her face pressed against the glass.

Mia stands beside her, smiling as she listens to Felicity’s nonstop commentary about how she’s going to adopt a penguin one day and name it Princess Waddles.

"She’s got big plans," Mia says, glancing at me with a grin.

"She’s ambitious," I reply, leaning a little closer. "Gets that from her dad."

"Oh, does she?" Mia teases, her tone lightening a bit.

We walk side by side as Felicity moves on to the next enclosure, our hands brushing occasionally. It feels easy, even with that lingering unease in the back of my mind.

At the giraffe feeding station, we buy a handful of lettuce and let Felicity take the lead. She holds the lettuce out with both hands, squealing when one of the giraffes leans down and takes it with its long, purple tongue.

Mia snaps a photo, laughing as Felicity turns to us with wide eyes. "Did you see that? He’s so big!"

"We saw," Mia says, crouching down to show Felicity the picture she just took.

I watch them together, something warm and steady settling in my chest. This—watching Mia laugh with my daughter, seeing the way Felicity lights up around her—is more than I ever let myself hope for.

When Felicity declares she’s hungry, we grab hot dogs and pretzels from a nearby stand and find a shady spot to sit. Mia seems to relax a little as we eat, the tension in her shoulders easing as Felicity chatters on about the penguins and the giraffes and how she’s decided she’s going to be an animal rescuer when she grows up.

"Not a princess anymore?" I ask, raising a brow.

"I can be both," Felicity says confidently, taking a big bite of her pretzel.

Mia laughs, shaking her head. "She’s got it all figured out."

By the time we head back to the car, Felicity is clutching a stuffed penguin she insisted on naming Princess Waddles, her energy finally starting to wane.

"She’s going to pass out the second we get home," I say, glancing at her through the rearview mirror as she hugs the penguin tightly to her chest.

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