The babysitter

Cookies

Lucy sat at the kitchen table, a little self-conscious as she adjusted the oversized shirt Tim had lent her. It hung loosely over her, the sleeves rolled up slightly, and it smelled faintly of him. She could feel the warmth of the room—the aroma of freshly baked cookies filling the air. Tim, as always, was doing his best to make her feel at ease, despite the painful bruise across her side. Emma, on the other hand, was buzzing with excitement, her energy contagious.

"Yay! They're in the oven!" Emma cheered, her tiny voice bouncing off the walls as she jumped up and down on her little stool. "Can I go play, Daddy?"

Tim smiled down at his daughter, his heart visibly softening as he watched her. She was everything he had ever wanted in his life. Emma's joy, her innocence, and the way she clung to moments like this—baking cookies together, playing in the living room—reminded Tim of how precious every second was.

"Yes, baby, you can play," he said, ruffling Emma's hair gently before turning back to Lucy.

Emma beamed, running out of the kitchen with a happy shriek. Lucy couldn't help but smile at the sight. Emma's joy was infectious, and for a moment, it was as though the world had paused, leaving them in a bubble of warmth and normalcy.

Lucy shifted in the chair, trying to relax, but the constant ache in her body made it hard to feel truly at ease. Despite the comfort of Tim's clothes and the softness of his presence, a part of her remained on edge. The memories of what had happened still haunted her—the bruises, the blood, the fear of not knowing where to go. She had come to Tim in desperation, unsure of what else to do. But now, with him and Emma, she felt a strange mix of safety and vulnerability.

Her gaze shifted to Tim, who was still busy preparing the next batch of cookie dough. His movements were efficient but gentle, his focus completely on what he was doing. She watched him for a moment, thinking back on everything they had shared—the quiet moments, the unspoken understanding, the trust that had been built between them over the past few days.

"Where's Rachel?" Lucy asked suddenly, her voice soft, breaking the comfortable silence. The question had been lingering in her mind ever since she had woken up in the Bradford household, but she hadn't found the right moment to ask.

Tim froze for a fraction of a second, as if the question had caught him off guard. He didn't look up immediately but continued to mix the dough, the silence between them thickening.

"We... we broke up," he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with a hint of something unspoken. "It wasn't... it just wasn't working."

Lucy didn't push for more, but her heart twisted slightly. She knew that Tim had been serious about Rachel, that their relationship had been one of those rare, meaningful connections that people talked about in quiet, reverent tones. It was clear that Rachel had been important to him, and now, to hear that they had parted ways—especially under the circumstances—made Lucy feel a pang of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said gently, not quite knowing how to express the empathy she felt. She had her own burdens, her own hurts to carry, but she recognized that Tim was going through something difficult too.

Tim looked at her then, his expression softer than it had been moments before. "It's fine," he said, his tone a little more distant now. "It wasn't her fault."

Lucy remained quiet, giving him space to say more if he wanted to, but she could see he was holding something back. His gaze returned to the dough, his hands moving almost automatically as he continued to knead it, though his mind clearly wasn't fully present in the task.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, a little hesitantly. "Why... why did it end?"

Tim let out a long sigh, his hands pausing in the middle of the dough as his thoughts seemed to take him somewhere far away. For a long moment, he didn't answer. Lucy waited patiently, not wanting to push him, but knowing that his silence spoke volumes.

"She found her dream job," Tim finally said, his voice tinged with something close to resignation. "Guess her job was more important. She went to New York. Didn't really give me much of a choice."

Lucy's heart tightened as she listened to his words. She had suspected there was more to the story, but the hurt behind his voice—the way his eyes didn't quite meet hers—told her everything she needed to know. Rachel had made a choice, and Tim had been left behind, not by any fault of his own, but because the life they had together no longer fit into the bigger picture of her dreams.

"That must have been really hard for you," Lucy said, her voice barely a whisper. She couldn't imagine what Tim was feeling. To have someone you cared for leave like that, not because they didn't love you, but because their future lay elsewhere, was a painful truth to face.

Tim exhaled a slow breath, leaning back against the counter as he finally allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. "Yeah," he muttered, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "It was hard, but I guess it's better this way. It wasn't... it wasn't fair to either of us. We both wanted different things."

Lucy nodded, her chest heavy with unspoken understanding. She had always respected Tim, admired him for the quiet strength he held. But in that moment, as she saw the way his shoulders slumped, the way his gaze turned inward, she realized just how much he had been carrying.

"I think I get it," she said softly. "Sometimes, things just don't work out the way you hope they will."

Tim looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time in a while. He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "Yeah, sometimes they don't."

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their thoughts. Lucy couldn't help but reflect on the way Tim had reacted when she had come to him last night—how he hadn't hesitated, how he had cared for her without question. It was clear to her that, no matter what he was going through, he always put others first, always made sure that the people around him were taken care of.

As the warmth of the oven began to fill the kitchen, and the sweet scent of cookies wafted through the air, Emma's voice called from the living room.

"Are they ready yet?" she asked, her little voice full of impatience. "Can I eat them now?"

Tim chuckled softly, ruffling his hair with a sigh. "Not yet, honey. A few more minutes."

Lucy smiled, glad for the moment of normalcy. She could almost forget the storm that had raged in her life just days ago. In that kitchen, with the smell of cookies and the sound of Emma's giggles in the background, she felt a fleeting sense of peace.

As the cookies finished baking, and Emma practically danced around the kitchen in her excitement, Tim handed Lucy a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies.

"Here you go," he said, his smile finally reaching his eyes again. "You earned these."

Lucy took the plate, savoring the warmth that came with it, both from the cookies and from the comfort of the moment. She didn't know what the future held, but for now, in this little bubble of time, everything felt alright.

Emma eagerly took a cookie, stuffing it into her mouth as crumbs fell onto her shirt. "Yummy! Thank you, Lucie!" she exclaimed between bites.

Lucy laughed, feeling a lightness in her chest that had been missing for so long. "You're welcome, Em."

Tim watched them both, a soft smile playing on his lips as he took his own cookie. The tension in his shoulders had eased, and for a brief moment, he let himself enjoy the simplicity of this—of the three of them, sharing a quiet morning together, with nothing else pressing down on them.

For Lucy, it was a reminder that there was still goodness in the world, even after everything she had been through. And for Tim, it was a glimpse of what could be—what he still had left to fight for.