Page 47 of Married to the Devil

“I’m not sure what the toasties are, but let’s go see what we can find.” I hesitate, heart racing. Why do I feel so nervous right now?

It’s only a little girl.

I offer my hand. Hattie considers it for a moment. “I’m not supposed to go with strangers.”

“My name is Rafe. I married your mother.”

“Oh. Okay. Rafey.” She slips her tiny hand in mine. “Will you carry me?”

I laugh despite myself. “I thought I was a stranger?”

“Please? Rafey? I don’t want to walk.”

“Alright, come here.” I scoop the girl into my arms. She clings to me, arms around my neck, legs around my middle. I support her bottom. “Hold on.”

“Why?”

I run forward. She squeals with delight and laughs as I go down the steps. It’s probably stupid—if I trip, we’ll both get hurt—but I can’t help myself. I love it. The way she clings tighter, the fear but also the excitement in her voice as she tells me to go faster, and the way she collapses to the ground when I reach the kitchen and place her on the floor.

“Again!” She holds her hands out. “Please, again!”

I could do this all day. I could spend my life running with her in my arms if it means getting that reaction. Holy hell, my chest is a knot and I’m smiling.

“Breakfast first then maybe we’ll run later.”

“Okay.”

She sits happily at the table and plays with her stuffed horse while I skin and deftly slice an apple. I find some cinnamon cereal in the pantry, which seems to satisfy her, and make myself some coffee while she’s eating. I lean against the counter and observe, trying not to be too much of a creep, but unable to help it.

She’s got Corvino eyes and Corvino hair. My brother Silas has that nose. But everything else is her mother: the softness of her, that smile, her laughter.

I should get to the gym. My phone buzzes a few times as I’m standing here watching her eat. I’m running out of time to exercise and I hate when my routine gets interrupted.

But I don’t. Instead, I sip my coffee, slice her more apples, and listen to her talk about her ponies and unicorns. Apparently there’s some kind of intergalactic battle between ponykind and unicorns. Her favorites are the unicorns, especially earth unicorns, which hate sky unicorns but love fire unicorns, and they’re all enemies with stone ponies, or something like that, I only half listen and half understand as she talks, and none of that matters.

I’m enraptured by her.

By this incredible little girl.

My own daughter.

“Hattie! Oh my god, Harriet!” June comes rushing over from the far side of the kitchen. She throws her arms around the little girl and hugs her tight. “Where have you been, baby? I was so worried!”

“I was down here with Rafey. He got me apples and cinnamon cereal and I told him about how sky ponies hate earth ponies⁠—“

“That’s amazing, baby, can you think about that some more for me while I talk to Mr. Rafe?”

“Just Rafey, and okay.” She tosses her pony plush onto the table. “Empress Cloudling will keep me company.”

June’s wrath is impressive for such a small woman. I almost think she’s going to rip me in half with her claws as she drags me some distance out of earshot.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again,” she snarls, full-on protective Mom-mode. I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to her in my life. “Do you understand me? You don’t ever take Hattie anywhere without me.”

“She was hungry.”

“Then you wake me up. Do you hear me?”

I consider for a moment. “I hear you.”