I smirk. “Whatever your heart desires.”
Ivy huffs, shaking her head, but there’s a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You really aren’t making it easy to say no.”
“Then don’t,” I reply.
“Say yes,” Lucy chimes in, practically bouncing with excitement.
Ivy exhales, eyes flicking between me and the hopeful little girl beside her. I decide to seal the deal.
I lean forward, resting my arms on the table, my voice dropping just slightly. “Most importantly,” I say, locking eyes with her, “I’m a first-class spider catcher.”
A spark of amusement flickers across her face, but she doesn’t look away. “Well, now I have to say yes,” she murmurs.
Still, neither of us moves.
Then—bam. Lucy launches herself between us, wrapping Ivy in a fierce hug.
Ivy lets out a smallOof!but laughs, hugging her back.
I push away from the table, turning back toward the sink, exhaling slowly as I pick up the tea towel.
This feels like the best decision in the world.
And maybe also the worst.
The sun is warm, the grass soft underfoot, and the air has that perfect early-morning stillness. It’s the kind of day that makes yoga outside feel like a great idea. We have done yoga every day this week but always indoors because the weather hasn’t been very kind. Today, however, the sun is out, and so Ivy suggested to move it to the garden.
And to be fair—it was a great idea.
Except now, standing in Tree Pose, I’m far too aware of Ivy balancing beside me.
She’s steadier than she was during our last lesson, but she still wobbles now and then, her foot pressing a little too hard into her thigh, her arms shifting ever so slightly as she works to keep her balance.
It’s distracting.
Not because she’s bad at it but because she bites her lip when she concentrates, and it’s making it very hard to focus on my own pose.
Lucy, standing between us, is completely in her element. She’s balancing effortlessly, her little hands pressed together, her eyes closed like she’s some kind of tiny yoga master.
“Ivy, you’re doing better!” she announces happily.
Ivy exhales, adjusting her stance. “I feel better. I mean, my legs still hate me, but I haven’t fallen yet, so I’m calling that a win.”
I smirk. “See? Told you you’d improve.”
“Yes, yes. Theo is always right. What a shocking revelation.”
“Glad you’re catching on.”
She gives me a look that promises payback, but she’s still smiling.
“Okay,” I say, shifting into Warrior. “Let’s move into the next pose.”
Lucy follows instantly, lifting one leg behind her and stretching her arms forward, her tiny frame perfectly aligned.
Ivy hesitates, then moves into position, lifting her leg and stretching forward—only slightly wobbly this time.
“Look at that,” I murmur, tilting my head toward her. “No dramatic flailing.”
