Page 60 of Nocturne

“He’s bright enough to know what he wants. Just talk to him, and you’ll find the answer,”

“I think we bought a lot of stuff,” Cas laughs.

I grunt as I stuff our overflowing bags into the car trunk. Okay, maybe I went a little overboard—clothes, shoes, toys, books—basically, anything Cas touched, I bought. In my defence, we had a blast. He put on a whole fashion show, and I couldn’t resist joining in. Of course, he refused to let me buy anything for him unless I got something too. So here we are, cramming bags into my car after blowing three months' salary.

Regrets? None.

I should probably rein it in a bit. If I keep spoiling him like this, will he turn into a little brat? The thought crosses my mind for all of two seconds before I glance down at him, clutching thefabric of my dress in his tiny hands, his wide eyes darting around to take in everything.

He wore one of his favourite outfits now—after I’d unceremoniously tossed his too-tight clothes into the nearest trash can. He looks like he stepped out of a storybook in his grey shirt, navy blue pants, black-and-white sneakers, and that little beret he refused to take off.

When he glances up at me, those mismatched green and blue eyes sparkling with joy, and grins, stretching his chubby cheeks. I feel my heart melt on the spot. Hell, he could ask me for the moon right now, and I’d find a way to get it for him.

How can an angel like this ever become a brat? Impossible.

I refuse to accept that there’s even a single bad bone in my little boy’s body. Not when he looks at me like that—with pure joy and innocence, as if the entire world is one big adventure waiting to be explored. Not when he clings to me like I’m his entire universe.

No, this boy isn’t capable of becoming a brat. Even if I bought him a thousand more things, even if I gave him everything he ever wanted, he’d still be kind. Still sweet. Still my little boy.

“Want some ice cream?”

“Yes,” he nods eagerly.

I laugh and lock my car. We cross the street and walk into a cute little ice cream shop that is filled with kids.

“Okay, champ. What would you like?”

“What’s your favourite flavour?” Cas asks, his brows furrowed as he studies the options.

“Whatever yours is,” I tease.

After a moment, he points decisively.

“Mississippi Mud.”

“Good choice,” I smile.

As we sit by the window, I watch him dig into his ice cream, humming in delight. He is smiling more often now, and something inside me healed with every grin.

“Do I need to go back to the orphanage today?” he asks softly.

I wince at his words. The papers needed to officially make me his guardian—no, his mother—are still two days from being finalised. Or maybe longer, depending on how much more grief the woman from child services decides to give me.

Despite meeting every eligibility criterion and passing the home inspection, she’s determined to dig her heels in. She keeps bringing up how unusual it is for a child to be raised by a single mother, especially one who hasn’t had a relationship in...well, let’s just say it’s been a while.

If I could, I’d unleash Ivy—my sharp-tongued, take-no-prisoners best friend—but that would only slow things down. Instead, I’m using this time to get our new house ready, decorating Cas’s bedroom and planning the most perfect welcome home party.

“You know I’ve got us a new home for us to settle in, right?”

He nods as he eats his ice cream.

“It still needs to be decorated and furnished,” I explain gently, watching his little face for any sign of disappointment. “I’m planning to surprise you with the painting in your room, andit’ll take a bit of time. Plus, I don’t want you breathing in any paint fumes. Ellie also mentioned that it might be nice for you to spend a day or two with your friends before you come to me. Forever.”

Forever. The word lingers between us, warm and reassuring.

I don’t want to go into the technicalities or remind him that the papers aren’t finalised yet. He doesn’t need to know that. Cas has been mine since the moment I met him, just as much as I’ve been his.

“Okay,” he says softly.

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