Page 143 of Josephine and Clay

“Good. I’ve been trying very hard.”

A small laugh escapes me.

Dinner with them.

With Clay’s family. Or part of it.

The sensible answer is no. It would complicate things. It’d make attachments where I should be cautious. It would give me a glimpse of belonging before I know whether I’m allowed to keep it.

But I think of Rose smiling at Boone under barn lights.

Faith laughing with Dallas’s baby on her hip.

Tessa holding Hailey like love is frightening and worth it anyway.

I think of twins.

My twins.

Clay’s twins.

I inhale slowly.

“Alright,” I say.

Tessa’s smile blooms. “Really?”

Hailey stirs then, making a tiny squeak, and Tessa immediately bends over the stroller. “Hi, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “I know. Main Street gossip is exhausting.”

I watch her lift the baby with care, tucking Hailey against her chest. The baby settles instantly, cheek pressed to her mother’s shoulder.

I imagine two babies that small. Two warm weights. Two fragile breaths. Two lives I’m already responsible for and somehow already attached to in a way that terrifies me.

She notices my hand move to my stomach and, mercifully, says nothing about it. The restraint feels like another small kindness.

After a moment, I stand. “I should go home before Dr. Harris sends a search party.”

“He might.”

“He told me to eat something that wasn’t crackers.”

“Bossy.”

“Correct, unfortunately.”

Tessa smiles. “Text me later? I’ll send you dinner options.”

“I don’t have your number.”

She reaches for her phone. “Then we should fix that.”

We exchange numbers, and the act feels strangely significant. Like signing up for something without reading all the terms.

When her name appears in my contacts, I stare at it for half a second.

Tessa McCoy.

It feels strangely significant. A connection and a risk. A small, unexpected thread tying me to a family I’m not ready for and may already need more than I want to admit.