Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“Girl, I’m so excited for you,” Bristol says, her tone brimming with genuine joy. “I want all the details, but if you’re truly in love, you’ll figure it out. Just keep me posted, okay?”
I promise I will, and we chat for a few more minutes about random sisterly stuff—like how Mom’s been asking when I’m coming to visit—before we hang up. I place the phone down on my nightstand, heart lighter than it’s been in ages.
That evening, I find myself back at Ripley’s place. He opens the door before I can knock, like he’s been watching from the window, and my stomach flips at the sight of him in a comfy T-shirt and jeans. He greets me with a soft “Hey,” pulling me into a warm hug. My entire body relaxes against his, and I breathe in that comforting mix of laundry detergent and faint cologne.
Inside, Juniper’s in the living room, standing on the couch cushions to see over the back of it. When she spots me, she hops down and rushes over. “Kali!” she cries, practically bouncing. “Dad said we’re making spaghetti tonight, and I get to help stir the sauce!”
I kneel to meet her enthusiasm, ruffling her curls. “That sounds awesome. I’ll help with the garlic bread if you want.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Yes, please!”
Ripley clears his throat behind me, amusement in his voice. “All right, you two. Let’s get to it.”
We head into the kitchen, where I notice the table has already been set with mismatched plates and a little vase of flowers—clearly Juniper’s doing, since they’re half-wilted daisies from the yard. It’s adorable, and an odd warmth blooms in my chest at how domestic it all feels.
While Ripley browns ground beef for the sauce, Juniper and I huddle over the loaf of French bread, slicing it carefully and brushing on butter mixed with garlic and herbs. She chatters nonstop about her day. Like how she built a tower of blocks that almost reached her shoulders, how she practiced her throwing form in the backyard with Dad, how she can’t wait to show me her new dance moves. Her excitement is infectious, and I find myself laughing more tonight than I have in a long time.
When the spaghetti’s done, we gather around the table, bowls steaming. Ripley insists I take the seat next to Juniper, and throughout dinner, she keeps elbowing me or tugging on my sleeve to share little stories. Ripley just watches with a soft smile, occasionally jumping in with a teasing remark.
After dinner, we decide to watch Star Wars: Return of the Jedi. We cuddle up on the couch, Juniper sandwiched between us, devouring a bowl of popcorn and giggling at every silly joke onscreen. Ripley’s arm drapes across the back of the couch behind me, and I lean in just enough to feel the warmth of his shoulder. Every now and then, he glances my way with a look that sends shivers down my spine.
Before long, Juniper’s yawning. She tries to fight it, insisting she’s not tired, but her drooping eyelids say otherwise. Ripley exchanges a knowing look with me, and I volunteer to help her get ready for bed. We head down the small hallway to her bedroom, a cozy space filled with bright artwork and stuffed animals.
She changes into pajamas—blue ones with little stars on them—while I wait, then she plops down at the edge of her bed, patting a spot next to her. “Will you brush my hair? Can you do it like Princess Leia?” she asks, holding out a sparkly pink hairbrush.
My heart squeezes. “Of course,” I say softly, taking the brush and sitting behind her. I run it gently through her curls, careful not to tug, and she hums contentedly, leaning back against me with that trust only a child can give so freely.
“Kali?” she says, her voice small and sleepy.
“Yeah, sweetie?”
She hesitates, fiddling with a loose thread on her pajama pants. “I wish… I wish I had a mother like you.”
Her words knock the breath out of me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I have to swallow hard before answering. “Juniper, you have an amazing dad who loves you so much,” I manage, my voice thick with emotion. “And… I’m here for you too, whenever you need me. Always.”
She turns to face me, looking so earnest. “You promise?”
I set the brush aside and pull her into a hug, heart aching and full all at once. “I promise,” I whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Within minutes, she’s tucked under her blanket, drifting off with her stuffed unicorn clutched to her chest. I stand there for a moment, overwhelmed by the wave of love I feel for this little girl and her father. I’m definitely in deeper than I ever expected. And yet, the idea of stepping away now is unthinkable.