Page 84 of Kylie

The instant tears formed in his eyes, it turned on the waterworks for me. I grabbed him, holding tightly as my emotional boat started rocking, barely staying upright in the storm that churned. I couldn’t remember the last time Travis cried. Hell, I wasn’t sure he ever had. Yet I could feel his pain.

“I love you,” I whispered against his neck. “I love you so much.”

“I hope that’s true.”

I pulled back, meeting his gaze. “What does that mean?”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “It means you’ll forgive me for hovering for the next”—he shrugged one shoulder and twitched his lips—“fifty years or so.”

I laughed, and it was real, and it felt so good. “I’ll just call you Helicopter Husband.”

His smile grew and I saw the moment it reached his eyes.

It would take time, but things would return to normal. Even if normal had a new definition.

Travis

After snatching a pair of Gage’s sweatpants and one of my hoodies for Kylie to put on, the two of us went downstairs to find everyone sitting in the kitchen, waiting.

Kate was the first out of her chair, racing over and throwing her arms around her mother. Neither of them said anything as they held onto one another for a few heartbeats. It was a scene right out of one of my dreams. The ones that always turned into a nightmare because Kylie would end up fading out of them, gone forever.

But she wasn’t gone.

That anxious churning in my stomach returned, making me feel nauseous. This scene felt off in so many ways, but right in the best possible way. My wife was alive. She was here. With us. I’d mourned her for so long, my grief becoming a living, breathing thing. And all of a sudden, the grief was gone, replaced by a sense of … unreality.

Yeah. That was a good word for it. While I was grateful beyond measure that Kylie was home, this felt strange to me. Surely that would pass, though. With time.

Once Kate released her, Kylie went over and greeted Kade, Avery, Haden, and Maddox, pausing to meet each of their gazes.

Their reactions were notably different than Kate’s. While Avery offered a hug, it was weak in comparison. Kade flashed a half smile while Haden stared, sipping chocolate milk. And Maddox … his eyes were wide and he was grinning, clearly happy to see his mother.

I understood Avery’s hesitance and Kade’s standoffishness. I even got Haden’s indifference. But Maddox … the little boy had bonded with Kylie in a way that none of the others had. And because of that bond, he somehow remembered her despite having been only a year and a half when she died … er… left.

There was no way Kylie didn’t notice the reactions, but if they bothered her, she didn’t show it. I could tell she was drinking them in, probably cataloging all the differences. She’d been gone nearly two years, and they’d grown significantly, reached important milestones. I could only imagine how difficult it was for her to have missed all that.

“Are you stayin’ for breakfast, Mommy?” Kade asked, his eyes imploring her as though her answer would make or break him.

“If that’s okay with you.”

Kade nodded. “Yeah. You can stay.”

I watched Kylie’s throat work, likely an attempt to swallow the pain those words caused. It would take time for them to adjust, but they would. I had faith.

“You want eggs?” Gage asked, his question directed toward me.

“Just coffee.”

“Kylie?” Gage probed. “You want eggs?”

“I’m good for now. Thank you, though.”

Her response was something you would hear at a restaurant. Polite, not casual.

“You don’t want eggs?” Kade asked, his tone sad.

Kylie turned her attention to him, a weak smile on her face. “If you’re havin’ eggs, I do.”

“We are,” Avery told her. “And pancakes.”