Kassie led Ben to her living room, acutely aware of every detail of her home through his eyes—the family photos covering the mantel showing all four of her children at various ages, Emma’s toys neatly organized in a basket by the window, the throw blanket she’d bought after the custody papers were signed because it was soft and comforting and entirely her choice.
“This is nice,” Ben said, settling beside her on the couch, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “It feels like you. Warm, welcoming.”
Kassie tucked her legs beneath her, turning to face him. The coffee she’d promised to make sat forgotten in the kitchen as they found themselves drawn into conversation that felt more intimate than anything they’d shared before—stories about childhood fears, dreams
