Page 95 of Finders Keepers

“Once upon a time,” he begins, his voice taking on that storytelling quality that makes Sophie’s eyes go wide with wonder.

But as he reads, my mind starts to wander. This feels so right…too right. The way Sophie’s becoming more comfortable with him, how easily he’s starting to fit into our little world. It’s everything I’ve dreamed about, having someone who could be there for both of us, someone who makes us feel safe.

And that’s exactly what terrifies me.

Wasn’t this how it started with Matt? He was perfect at first too. Charming, attentive. I remember thinking I’d hit the jackpot, and then after the wedding we found out we were pregnant with Sophie, I’d thought I had found someone who could love both of us. Then after the layoffs happened and his drinking consumed his life. Look how it all turned out.

Gavin’s voice rises and falls with the story, doing different voices for each character that make Sophie giggle. His hand gestures as he describes the dragon’s flight, and I notice how Sophie mirrors them unconsciously, her own little fingers tracing patterns in the air.

My chest tightens. We’ve known him for what, a month? And here I am, letting him into our safe space, our sanctuary, and if this goes wrong…

I glance down at my daughter, whose eyes are getting heavier with each page turn. Mr. Hoppy is squished between us, his floppy ears tickling my arm. She looks so peaceful. What if I’m making another mistake? What if I’m setting her up for more heartbreak?

“The princess hugged her dragon tight,” Gavin reads, his voice gentler now, matching Sophie’s drowsy state. “She knew that no matter where their adventures took them, they would always have each other.”

Sophie’s breathing has evened out, her weight getting heavier against my side. Her fingers have gone slack around Mr. Hoppy’s ear, and her face is completely relaxed in sleep.

Gavin closes the book slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. “She’s out,” he whispers, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Because looking at him now, seeing the tenderness in his expression as he watches Sophie sleep, I want to believe this is different. I want to believe he’s different.

But the voice in my head, the one that’s kept us safe these past weeks, whispers warnings I can’t ignore. Matt started out this same way.

“I should get her to bed,” I manage to say, my voice barely audible.

“Let me help,” he offers, already setting the book aside.

“No, I’ve got her.” The words come out sharper than I intended, and I see him pull back slightly, confusion flickering across his face.

I soften my tone. “Thank you, though. For reading to her. She… she really enjoyed it.”

Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he nods slowly. “Of course. Anytime.”

I gather Sophie in my arms, blanket and all, making sure Mr. Hoppy doesn’t fall. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, just nuzzles into my neck.

I carry her to our bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She stirs just enough for me to tuck the blanket around her. Her little face is peaceful, all the worry from earlier washed away by sleep and stories. I press a kiss to her forehead before quietly backing out of the room.

Gavin waits by the front door, hands in his pockets, looking around our little space with a soft expression that makes my stomach flip.

“She’s still asleep,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself as I approach. “Thank you for reading to her.”

“She’s a special kid.” His smile is genuine, reaching his eyes. “You’re doing an amazing job with her, Bailey.”

The compliment lands like a weight on my chest. If he knew how many times I’ve second-guessed every decision, how many nights I’ve lain awake wondering if I’m doing the right thing…

“I should get going,” he says, reaching for the doorknob. Then he pauses, eyes finding mine. “Can I…kiss you goodnight?”

Gavin’s hand lingers on the doorknob as he turns back to me.

“I was thinking,” he says, his voice low so it doesn’t carry to the bedroom, “would you and Sophie like to come over for dinner tomorrow night? I make a mean meatball ziti dish.”

The invitation catches me off guard. “Dinner?”

He nods, a hopeful smile playing at his lips. “I love cooking, but it’s not much fun cooking for one and Nugget’s not exactly a discerning food critic.”

I can’t help but laugh at that.

“So what do you say? Nothing fancy, just dinner.” His voice softens. “I’d really like to cook for you both.”

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