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As we settle down around the coffee table, Julian looks fondly at his daughter, who is comparing the sizes of cookies on the plate. Discovering the biggest one, Aria takes a giant bite, smearing a bit of chocolate on her chin.
"Aria, did you help make these?" I ask, hoping to connect with her a little bit, too.
"Yes! I helped mix and I even put them on the cookie sheet," Aria explains, her voice full of pride.
"That’s very impressive," I add, smiling at Aria. "You're quite the baker, aren't you?"
Aria nods vigorously, pleased with the praise. "Daddy says I'm the best six-year-old baker in the world," she adds before offering me a cookie. "You have to try one!"
I take the cookie Aria offers and thank her graciously. This small, domestic moment feels so natural, and the earlier tension between Julian and me is all but evaporated in the warm scene unfolding around us. There's a comfort in the simplicity of sitting together like this, appreciating the everyday joys that life can offer.
I take a bite. The cookie rich and chewy, perfectly baked. "Wow, Aria. This really is delicious. You two did a great job."
Aria beams at me, delighted.
As I savor the sweetness of the cookie, my thoughts begin to drift. For a fleeting second, I imagine what it might be like to have a family of my own. The thought of being with Julian, of spending time with Aria and getting to know her better, fills me with a surprisingly strong desire to be part of their little world.
As silly as it is, I can't help but fall into the fantasy for a moment. Visions of three of us—weekend outings, school plays, holidays—happy and secure. The images weave together into a beautiful tapestry of possibility. My heart swells with longing, with hope. It's as alluring as it is intimidating.
I'm jolted out of my reverie by Aria’s voice, her cheerful tone breaking through my thoughts. "Natalie, you can have another cookie if you want!" Her bright eyes focus on me, innocent and beautiful.
I smile at her, touched by her generous spirit. I wish I could accept, but the stress of the past few days has caught up to me and turned my stomach off. "Oh, thanks Aria, but I'm too full for another right now," I reply, giving my stomach a comedic little pat, drawing a giggle from her.
Julian watches our interaction, his eyes crinkling around the edges. It's nice to think that I can be as much a comfort to him as he is to me, that we've both found peace in this moment together.
After a while, when Aria dances back to her room, Julian's mood shifts. His expression turns serious as he asks, “Have you heard any news from the police yet?”
The question hangs in the air, a solemn ending to an idyllic moment. I shake my head, a slight frown creasing my brow. "No, nothing yet. It really feels like we’re on our own with this," I lament.
Julian’s jaw clenches, his hands twitching in his lap. "We'll figure it out," he asserts, maybe more for his own comfort than mine. "We have to."
I nod, appreciating his determination, but the effect the situation is having on Julian makes me worried for him. I wish there was something more I could do. At least now I'm beginning to understand his feelings, and hopefully I can be a better support to him moving forward.
As Aria's bedtime approaches, I reluctantly gather my things. This evening has been so wonderful, but our relationship needs a minute to breathe, for the wounds to finish healing. And I don't want to encroach on Julian and Aria's routine just yet. We'll take that slowly, one step at a time.
I gratefully accept Aria's goodbye hug, her warmth spreading over me like sunshine. “Thank you for the cookies, love,” I tell her, gently running my hand over her dark curls.
“You're welcome,” Aria answers politely, reaching up with a mirroring touch of my own hair. “Thanks for coming.”
This beautiful child is so sweet, so pure. She's an extension of Julian, all of his good parts bundled up into one adorable little human, still untarnished by the weight of the world. He’s an amazing father—that much is evident—and it only deepens my feelings for him.
"Yes, thank you for coming, Nat," Julian echoes, his gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.
Aria stays inside as Julian and I step out onto the front porch, the cool night air crisp against my skin. It's Julian who leans in first, his lips soft and gentle as they find mine. He's being careful, I know, and his tenderness sends a lovely shiver down my spine.
We break apart but remain close, the energy between us charging with mutual desire. Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck, pulling Julian back down for another kiss. This one is deep, searching for one last reassurance that his feelings match my own.
Julian answers me with matched fervor, his mouth moving against mine with insistence as his hands lift to my face, gluing me to him. Too soon though, he pushes me back, and both of us gasp for air.
“Aria is watching,” Julian whispers, his breath tickling my neck.
Surprised, I quickly peek around his shoulder just in time to see a tiny head of curls dart away from the window. My face goes hot.
“How did you know?” I ask.
Julian smirks. “It's a dad thing.”
It's entirely unfair how much that turns me on. I bite my lip, resisting the urge to lunge at him again. Julian eyes me playfully for a moment before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me to him, capturing me in his embrace.
