𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

a month later...

"We're on the last one, Dyl," Haven spoke softly, her fingers weaving through the final section of Dylan's hair, securing the last plait neatly. "No beads, right?" she asked, for what had to be the fifth time.

Dylan wiggled her toes, moving from sitting crisscross on the bean bag, her hands resting in her lap. "Yes, Mommy. You already asked me that,

"I'm just making sure," Haven laughed, tightening the braid's end. "Because once I'm done, I'm done. No going back and changing your mind."

Dylan hummed in response, kicking her legs lazily on the bean bag as Haven reached for the mousse. With a few firm pumps, she coated the top of Dylan's head with the foamy product. Before she could even smooth it out herself, Dylan's small hands shot up eagerly.

"Go ahead," Haven chuckled, watching as Dylan smushed the mousse down with both palms, her little fingers gliding across her fresh braids with precision.

Once the product was fully absorbed, Dylan bounced up from the bean bag and made a beeline for the mirror, standing on her toes to admire her hair.

Haven took the opportunity to start cleaning up, placing the combs, mousse, and edge control back in her bathroom. When she returned, she leaned against the doorframe, watching Dylan tilt her head from side to side, examining every angle of her hair.

"You like it?" Haven asked, stepping closer.

"Yes!" Dylan grinned wide, dimples appearing as she turned to her mom. "Call Daddy, please?"

"Daddy is already on his way home. He should be here any minute to see it in person."

Dylan pouted, clearly unsatisfied with that answer.

"I promise," Haven reassured her, but before she could say anything else, the door alarm chimed. She turned her head toward the hallway, her lips twitching into a smile. "See? There he is."

Dylan gasped dramatically before taking off in a full sprint, her braids bouncing behind her. "Daddy! Daddy!" she squealed, practically flying down the steps.

Haven followed behind at a more leisurely pace, shaking her head with a knowing smile. As soon as Dylan reached the front door, her father scooped her up with ease, holding her close despite the items in his hands. "Hi, pretty girl," he greeted, pressing a loud kiss to her cheek. "Look at you—you look so pretty."

Dylan giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck before her eyes caught sight of the small bouquet he had tucked under his arm. "Are those for me?" she asked excitedly.

"They sure are." He handed her the little bouquet, watching as her face lit up.

"Thank you!" She turned immediately, holding the flowers up to Haven like a prized trophy. "Look, Mommy! They're pink!"