First Crush, My Forever

Chapter 63

  I wake up to the sound of Taytum's slow, even breathing. It's one of those quiet mornings where the house feels still, like we're the only ones in the world. Taytum's arm is draped warmly across my waist and her face is tucked into my neck, her body heavy and relaxed with sleep. I lie there for a few breaths just feeling it, the softness, the ease, like my body already knows this is where I belong.

  A year ago my mornings felt rushed and heavy, and now here I am waking up to someone who treats me like I'm home. I reach up and smooth a bit of her hair that has fallen across her face and she murmurs in her sleep. A smile tugs at my lips. I could lie here forever if KK's sleepy voice down the hall was not already stirring my thoughts.

  Sure enough I catch the sound of tiny feet padding across the hardwood. I glance at Taytum again before carefully slipping out of bed. The cool floor is familiar under my feet as I tug a robe around myself and go to find my daughter.

  KK is rubbing her eyes when I meet her in the hallway. "Morning baby," I murmur as I scoop her up.

  "Morning Mommy," she says, her voice scratchy with sleep.

  "Let's go wake up TayTay," I suggest, which makes KK smile and nod her head.

  We go back into the bedroom together and Taytum stirs as KK climbs up onto the bed to cuddle between us. Her arm falls around KK easily, and the three of us stay there in a sleepy tangle of blankets and quiet murmurs for a few minutes before it is time to get going.

  Eventually I leave them to go put on my clothes for work. I dress in dark slacks and a burgundy sweater that is cozy but polished enough for my classroom. My hands pause at my jewelry box as I catch my reflection in the mirror. My face looks rested. There is color in my cheeks and my shoulders do not feel like they are up by my ears anymore. Even my hands are steadier than they used to be. That is what safety looks like, I realize and safety feels like this gentle morning rhythm too.

  When I get downstairs Taytum is humming while she leans against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. KK is perched at the island chattering about school.

  Taytum passes me a mug, her eyes warm as she leans against the counter.

  "You want me to drive you again after we take KK?" she asks, voice quiet like it's our own secret plan.

  I smile and kiss her cheek. "That sounds perfect," I say. "I love getting those extra few minutes with you." That makes Taytum smile and she reaches for my hand across the counter, her thumb rubbing across my knuckles.

  A few minutes later we are in the car together. KK is in the backseat singing a song she learned in pre k while Taytum drives. Every so often she glances at me like she cannot quite believe this is real. It feels like that for me too.

  When we reach KK's school, she gives us each a kiss before she hops out with her tiny backpack. Taytum gets out and watches her skip up the path.

  "Have a good day baby," I call after her, feeling my heart swell.

  Once she is safely inside Taytum slides back into the driver's seat and looks at me. "Your turn," she says, reaching for my hand. I lace my fingers with hers and smile.

  "You know," I say, "I never thought mornings could feel like this."

  "Like what?"

  "Easy," I tell her. "Like they could feel good." Taytum leans across the console to kiss me before pulling away into traffic.

  At school the halls are already noisy. I set my things in my classroom and take a breath as I look around. My students will be here soon, filling this room with their chatter and creativity. I smooth my hands across a stack of graded papers and catch myself thinking of Taytum again. There is this quiet pride humming under my ribs that she is part of my life.

  The day unfolds like usual after that. My first period students shuffle in, sleepy but eager. My morning classes are spent going over their short stories and encouraging them to take risks with their writing. As they work in small groups I wander between desks, answering questions and offering gentle suggestions. It feels good to be here, to have this space that is my own. Even so my thoughts drift back to home in the pauses. I wonder what Taytum is doing in her classes. I wonder if she is thinking of me too.

  By lunch I have a moment to myself. I sit at my desk and pull my laptop from my bag to catch up on emails, and my fingers brush against something tucked inside. I blink in surprise and pull out a folded sticky note with Taytum's handwriting across it.

  Have a good day, baby. Missing you already. I love you! –Tay x

  A small, helpless smile tugs at my lips. It's so like her, finding a way to make me feel close even when we're apart. I smooth the note across my palm for a second, then stick it carefully inside my planner like a bookmark. My phone buzzes with a message from her just then, and the timing feels like another one of those tiny, perfect signs that this life we're building together is real.

  I check my phone and Taytum has sent a picture of her coffee next to an open textbook and a simple message that says, "Counting the hours." My lips twitch into a smile as I tap out a reply. "Me too." A heart emoji pops up immediately in response.

  I sit my phone down feeling lighter and take a bite of my sandwich. It is funny how something as small as a message can make me feel so grounded. It is not just romance. It is knowing someone is out there thinking of me too. That kind of steadiness still feels new but I want to hold onto it.

  The afternoon passes quickly after that. My last class is my most energetic and by the time the bell rings my feet ache a little. Even so I am in a good mood as I lock my classroom and head outside. Taytum is waiting in the parking lot like we planned. The sight of her leaning against her car with her hands in her pockets is enough to make me smile.

  "How was your day?" she asks as she opens the passenger door.

  "Busy," I admit. "But good. How was yours?"

  Taytum glances at me as she pulls into traffic. "Pretty good," she says. "Better now."

  That simple exchange settles in my chest like a warm weight. "Let's go get KK," I suggest. By the time we reach her pre k she is already waving at us through the gate.

  "Mommy, TayTay!" she squeals as she climbs into her seat.

  "Hey princess," Taytum grins, reaching back to see if she needs help buckling in. KK babbles about her day and Taytum and I trade glances that say all the things we do not need words for.

  When we get home we fall into a rhythm that is becoming familiar. Taytum starts dinner while I help KK hang up her backpack. Once dinner is done, the three of us eat together, KK narrating every funny thing that happened at school, Taytum chuckling as she listens, my own heart quietly full.

  After dinner Taytum offers to do the bath and bedtime routine so I can take a shower or a long bath. "You sure?" I ask.

  "Of course," she says easily. "Go relax." That kind of easy give and take is part of what still feels new.

  When I am done I hear them reading one of KK's favorite stories in her room. I lean against the doorframe for a moment and just listen. Taytum's voice is warm and gentle as she turns each page.

  When KK is asleep Taytum comes downstairs where I am already curled up on the couch. "Hey," she says softly.

  "Hey," I echo. She settles in next to me and tucks a throw blanket over us.

  "You look tired," she murmurs.

  "Happy tired," I say honestly. Taytum smiles like she understands.

  We sit together in the quietness of the house with the quiet hum of the fridge in the background. My hand finds hers under the blanket and I squeeze it. "You know," I murmur, "I didn't realize what I was missing until now."

  Taytum looks at me, eyes warm. "Me too," she replies and in that small perfect moment I feel it again. That deep sense of safety that has been slowly threading into my life. It feels like family. It feels like home.