Anyway.
I clear my throat. “Thank you for letting him stay here tonight.”
Corbin leans against the counter, crossing his arms. There’s an effortless confidence about him. He always looks like he belongs exactly where he is.
Meanwhile, I feel unsteady in my own skin. Like I’m a mess, and he’s a masterpiece.
“It’s been a long day for him,” Corbin says, tilting his head.
I let out a breath. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”
Corbin pushes off the counter and moves closer. “Jules.”
The way he says my name—low, careful—sends something warm curling through my stomach. I bite my lower lip as his eyes roam my face.
I can tell he wants to say something real. Honest. But instead, he settles with, “You’re a good mom.”
My heart dips. “Thank you.”
“Tate is really lucky to have you.” He offers a crooked smile.
“He’s lucky to have you too, Corbin.”
Corbin exhales. “I should go.” But then, almost hesitantly—“I think we should try doing this once a week. Have dinner together. For Tate.”
My pulse stumbles.
Spend more time with Corbin? That sounds like a terrible idea. But Tate… Tate would love it.
I manage a small smile. “I think he’d really like that.”
“I’ll text you, and we can coordinate for next week,” he says. “Let’s plan for Wednesdays. I’ll cook.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I’ll pick Tate up on Sunday.” He watches me carefully. “Right now, he needs you more.”
I press a hand against my chest, steadying my breath. “If you have time tomorrow morning, you should stop by the coffee shop for breakfast with him,” I say.
Corbin blinks. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
His gaze lingers. Then, he inhales sharply. “I should go.”
I want to tell him he should stay. That we should sit on the couch with mugs of tea and talk about Tate. Talk about what happened last night. Talk about why our son is forgetting things because of how much he has to go back and forth.
But I don’t say any of that.
Because Corbin pulls me into a hug, and I swallow the words.
I lay my head against his shoulder, letting him hold me. I’ve let him do a lot of that today. His hands smooth up and down my back, gentle, steady. Something in my chest clenches, and before I can stop myself—
“Corbin,” I murmur.
His heart beats against mine. Then, after a breath, he pulls away. “See you tomorrow, Jules.”
I walk him to the door. Watch as he leaves. Lock up behind him. And suddenly, my chest is full of emotions I don’t know how to name.
