Page 140 of The Assist
There’s a knock on the glass door leading out to the garden. Murphy stands outside holding a suspiciously large bottle of champagne. “Can we christen the house now?” he says, his words muffled through the glass. “Sophie says we’re not allowed until you’ve toasted your joint domestic bliss.”
Mia sighs with a smile. “Let the circus back in.”
I open the door and he bounds in, Sophie behind him holding four mismatched glasses.
“To new beginnings,” Murphy says, popping the cork dramatically and spraying at least half of it over the room.
“To found family,” Sophie adds, handing everyone a glass.
“To not getting fired for sleeping with your player,” Mia deadpans, lifting her glass.
I laugh. “To sleeping with your physio and never regretting it.”
We all clink glasses, and for a few moments, there’s nothing but warmth, laughter, and the easy rhythm of people who survived the storm and lived to toast about it.
MIA
After Sophie and Murphy have gone, Sophie with a kiss on my cheek and Murphy with an exaggerated wink and a whispered “He cries when she leaves, it’s adorable”, I lie in bed beside Dylan, my legs tangled with his and his hand resting lazily on my hip. The room smells like us. Like safety and home all rolled into one.
“They’re going to end up together,” I say into the quiet.
“Murph and Sophie?” he hums. “Definitely.”
“She’s good for him.”
“He knows it. He’s just scared.”
I nod. “Funny how the loudest people can be the quietest when it matters.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “If they need a nudge, I’m happy to interfere.”
“You’re terrible.”
He kisses my shoulder. “I’m happy.”
