Chapter 7: A Step Toward Softness
343 Words
The next morning, Tahlia woke up before the sun.
Cleo had crawled into their bed sometime around 3 a.m. and was now snuggled against Tahlia’s side, breathing softly. Marcus still slept on the other side, one arm draped protectively across both of them, his breath steady, his face peaceful.
For once, the house was still.
Tahlia didn’t move right away. She just lay there, feeling the softness of Cleo’s baby skin, the warmth of Marcus’s arm, and a strange, unfamiliar feeling blooming in her chest: hope.
They had only spoken a little the night before. But the way Marcus had listened—really listened—made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Seen.
By the time breakfast was finished and the school bags were packed, Marcus stood in the doorway watching her as she loaded lunchboxes.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said quietly, holding up a small object in his hand.
It was a sippy cup.
Soft pink with cartoon stars. He looked a little embarrassed holding it, like it might burst into flames in his hands.
“I wasn’t sure what kind… but I thought maybe… this is okay?”
Tahlia froze, her eyes widening.
He handed it to her gently, like it was something sacred. “I thought you could use it on days when everything gets too loud.”
Her lips trembled. She didn’t cry—she felt like crying—but instead she reached for it and clutched it like a treasure.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You have no idea what this means.”
Marcus shrugged and smiled. “You said you didn’t want to be strong all the time. So maybe this is a start.”
It wasn’t perfect. There were still dishes in the sink, bills to pay, and kids who would inevitably fight before dinner. But this?
This was softness.
This was him trying.
And for Tahlia, it was the first real step toward being held—not just in his arms, but in his heart.
- Writer
