But it’s scary as fuck making all those decisions on my own.
“Violet Talbot, get your booty in the tub right now, or you only get one bedtime story.”
I hear her feet stop. If there’s one thing Violet loves almost more than anything, it’s her bedtime stories.
I reach the bathroom where she’s standing beside the tub. “Good job, waiting for daddy. Okay, let’s get you cleaned up, kiddo.”
One hour, three stories, and two songs later, Violet’s asleep, curled around her favourite unicorn stuffy. I stop at her doorway and watch her sleep, the same way I have every night I’ve been home since she was a newborn. The love I have for that child is deep and profound. It transcends reason and logic, and for the longest time I didn’t think I would ever feel that way for anyone else.
I had forgotten, or maybe was in denial, about the fact that I have felt something similar before. For a particular blonde dancer who, out of nowhere, has reappeared in my life.
Knowing the mess that awaits me in the rest of the house, courtesy of hurricane Violet, I push off the wall and close her bedroom door softly. Making my way to the kitchen, I grab a beer from the fridge, turn on some music, and start cleaning up.
Just as I turn the dishwasher on, ready to tackle the living room that is covered in toys, my phone vibrates. I grab it off the table to see an unfamiliar number has sent a message.
UNKNOWN: Leo, hi. It’s Serena. This is awkward, I got your number from Violet’s registration form for dance class. I was hoping we could talk.
I stare down at my phone for a beat. A hundred things are running through my head. Do I want to talk to Serena? Obviously, yes. But to what end? Closure? No, because I don’t want to close the door on us. Fuck, I want to tear the door off its hinges and find my way back to her.
But I’ve got Violet now. And she needs a father who’s present and dedicated to her, not chasing some memory of a love that might not even be reciprocated anymore.
Still, I need to see her. I quickly add her info to my contacts before responding.
LEO: Hey. I’m glad you reached out. Can we get coffee tomorrow?
SERENA: Sure. I’m free in the morning, no classes til after school gets out. Meet at The Nutty Muffin?
LEO: Okay. I can probably take a break around 10.
SERENA: See you then.
I drop the phone on the table and lean against the back of one of the chairs, letting out a heavy breath. I’ve got fourteen hours, give or take, to figure out what to say to the woman who broke my heart.
Pushing open the door to The Nutty Muffin the next morning, my senses are assaulted in the best possible way. The distinct aroma of fresh coffee mingles with a tantalizing smell, fruity and cinnamony, and just fucking amazing. My mouth instantly starts to salivate. Serena isn’t here yet, from what I can see, so I make my way to the counter to order for the two of us. Hopefully, she still drinks peppermint tea in the mornings.
A brunette greets me and she’s familiar somehow, but I have no clue why.
“Hi there, Deputy Talbot, welcome to The Nutty Muffin. What can I get you?”
It takes me a second to adjust to being called by name like that; it doesn’t happen very often in the city.
“Hey, I’ll take a coffee with cream, a peppermint tea, and two of whatever it is that smells so good.”
Her eyebrows raise as she smiles widely. “That would be the apple nut muffins.” She turns and busies herself starting the drinks, then opens the glass case and pulls out two huge muffins, placing them on a plate. “Here you go. I’ll bring the drinks over if you’re staying, if not, just give me a second.”
I turn around and spy an open table. “I’ll sit over there, thanks.”
Taking the muffins, I make my way over and sit down, eyes trained on the door for Serena.
“Here you go, I assume you’re waiting for someone?” The nosy brunette is back, drinks in hand.
“Yeah. An old friend.”
“Oh! Maybe I know them. I’m Mila Monroe, my partner is the vet, and my brother is the mayor. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I own this place. Safe to say, I know just about everyone.”
Well, that explains why she’s familiar. She does look a little bit like her brother.
“I’d say it’s safe to say you know me.” Serena’s voice cuts in as she slides into the seat across from me. “Thanks Mila, we’re good.”