Echoes of Three Souls

Chapter 5: Innocent Longing

Maeve POV

I put the girls to bed, a routine I'd grown familiar with after living with the family for a few months. It had become second nature, and though Dev and J never asked for my help, I found myself drawn to it, savoring these quiet moments. There was something soothing about the nighttime routine, the calm after the whirlwind of the day.

After a small, playful debate with Rory about how many books we'd read, I stuck to my guns and settled on just one. "Come on, one book is plenty, you'll be out like a light after that," I teased. I could already see the sleepy glaze in her eyes; I knew they wouldn't make it through more than one.

"Where's your Mimi?" I asked softly, looking around for their Grandmother who had supposedly put them to sleep earlier.

"She's asleep in Rory and Mila's room," Olive mumbled, her voice thick with exhaustion as she rubbed her tired eyes.

"Okie dokie, looks like we're sleeping in Olive-bear's bed tonight," I smiled, gently lifting them both and settling them under the blankets. They snuggled up close to each other, tiny limbs tangling as they sought comfort in their shared warmth. "There we go, as snug as a bug in a rug!" I whispered, making sure the blankets were pulled up just right.

Their giggles filled the room, little bursts of joy before they surrendered to sleep. After reading Goodnight Moon—one of their favorites—it didn't take long for them to drift off. I watched their small faces relax, their breathing even and soft. They looked so peaceful, so innocent, and my heart swelled.

But just as I was about to leave, I felt a tiny tug at my sleeve. Little Mila's wide, precious eyes peeked up at me from under the covers, still heavy with sleep but twinkling in the dim light. "Love you, Evie," she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with so much sweetness that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I bent down, gently kissing her forehead and smoothing back her soft hair. "I love you more, Mila-girl," I whispered back, my heart warming at the sight of her sleepy smile.

After giving the girls a final glance, I quietly slipped out of their room, the soft glow of the nightlight guiding my way. I made my way to the nursery where baby Henry was sleeping peacefully in his crib, the only boy among his sisters. I peered over the railing, feeling my heart swell at the sight of him nestled in his blankets, his tiny fingers curled into fists. I gently brushed my fingers against his soft cheek, a rush of tenderness flooding over me.

Once satisfied that he was comfortable, I tiptoed out and pulled out my phone, sending a quick text to Devin: All the kids are sound asleep. It's so quiet and peaceful.

Moments like this were everything I had always dreamed of. Growing up, I'd imagined myself as a mother, surrounded by a big, chaotic family filled with love and laughter. I had pictured tucking in my own little ones, reading bedtime stories, and sharing sweet moments like these. But as I stood there, watching them drift into their dreams, a quiet ache settled in my heart. Would I ever get to experience this in my own life? The thought was heavy, bittersweet.

So I took a deep breath, imprinting this moment in my mind—these giggles, the warmth of their tiny bodies, the purity of their love. I didn't know what the future held for me, but for now, I held this moment close, savoring the sweetness of being part of their world, if only for a little while longer.

**********

That night, I tossed and turned, which wasn't unusual for me, but the thoughts racing through my mind were different. They weren't the usual anxious loops of what I'd forgotten to do at work or how I'd fumbled through a conversation. No, this time I was replaying the scene outside, the one where I'd met him. The large, intimidating man whose gaze had made me freeze like a startled rabbit. Reese—that was his name. I learned that later, but in the moment, I had no idea who he was. He just... loomed there, and I felt so small.

"It's rude to stare, little girl." His words echoed in my mind, sharp and direct, cutting through the quiet of the night. My stomach knotted as I remembered how I'd scurried away, like a mouse darting into its hole. I felt so embarrassed, so stupid. Why had I stood there, gawking like that? My cheeks flushed hot even now, hours later. I hugged my stuffed bunny, Poppy, tighter against my chest, trying to steady my racing heart.

And then there was Scarlett. She was everything I wasn't—tall, breathtakingly elegant, with that lean, graceful frame. There was something about the way she carried herself, like she owned the space around her without even trying. She looked at me with... curiosity? At least, I thought she did. My mind spun, replaying the moment over and over, trying to dissect the smallest glance or the brief flicker of expression on her face. I couldn't tell. I never could tell.

I sighed, clutching Poppy closer, burying my face into her soft fur. Poppy had been with me for so long—nearly fourteen years, since the Christmas before my parents died. Her taupe fur was worn in places, a little ratty from being carried around for so long, but she was still my comfort. My lifeline. I rubbed her long ears between my fingers, the familiar texture soothing me like it always did. It was silly, really, how much I still relied on her. At twenty-two, I knew I shouldn't need a stuffed animal, but Poppy was more than just a bunny. She was... a piece of home. A piece of my parents. I could almost imagine they were still here, watching over me, when I held her close.

I sighed again, trying to shake away the thoughts that were tangling themselves into knots in my mind. Reese and Scarlett—they weren't people I should be thinking about. They were together, and I was... well, I was me. There was no chance of anything happening, not in that way. And yet... the pull I felt toward them was undeniable, especially Scarlett. I'd always known I was bi, even before I really understood what that meant. Watching Meg in Hercules had kind of sealed the deal for me—women were definitely my thing too. And Scarlett, with her sharp, curious eyes, graceful presence and lean yet curvaceous figure, drew me in like a moth to a flame.

But it didn't matter. I wasn't lovable, not like that. Not in any context, really. I was just the shy, awkward girl who couldn't even manage to hold a normal conversation without stumbling over her words. People like Scarlett and Reese—they lived in a different world. One I couldn't even dream of stepping into.

I hugged Poppy tighter, as if the stuffed bunny could somehow protect me from the whirlwind of thoughts spiraling in my mind. You're being ridiculous, I told myself, trying to push the fantasies away. But the feeling of being drawn to them wouldn't let go, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise.