Chapter 32: Family Dinner

Garlic and herbs scented the kitchen as I stirred the sauce. Outside, I watched Mikel help Emma build a fairy house out of leaves. Their laughter floated in, and for a second, it felt like the past five years were just a nightmare.

Even though I loved the scene, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The creepy messages hadn't stopped since Mikel moved into the guest house. If anything, they were worse, like our happiness was driving someone nuts.

"Mommy, Daddy says dinner smells amazing!" Emma yelled, bursting in, her face red from the cold air.

"Oh, does he?" I smiled, hugging her. "And what do you think?"

"It smells like home," she said, hitting me right in the heart.

Mikel came in, shaking leaves off his sweater. "Sorry, I got her a little excited. We found the perfect spot for the fairy house."

"It's by the big oak tree," Emma said importantly. "Daddy says fairies are like old trees 'cause they have more stories."

I looked at Mikel, seeing the same wonder I felt. These were the moments I'd dreamed of when I was alone—just simple family stuff about fairy houses and dinner.

"All right, before the fairies eat, let's get some food," I said. "Emma, can you set the table?"

"Can I use the fancy plates? The flowery ones?"

I hesitated. Those were my good china, for special times that never came.

"Yeah," I said. "Tonight feels like a fancy plate night."

As Emma carried the plates, Mikel came to the stove. "Need any help?"

"Pour the wine?" I pointed to the bottle. "And there's juice for Emma in the fridge."

We moved easily around the kitchen, like we'd been doing this for years. When he reached for glasses, his hand brushed my waist, making me feel warm all over.

"Bella," he said softly.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For letting me be here."

I turned to him, seeing something vulnerable in his eyes. "Thank you for wanting to be here. For Emma, I mean."

"For Emma," he said, but his look said more.

My phone buzzed with a notification. Another unknown number, another message. I flipped it over.

"Another one?" Mikel asked.

"I won't let them mess this up," I said. "Not tonight."

"Mommy! Daddy! Come see the pretty table!"

Emma stood by the table, which was set with my good china and every napkin I owned. She'd added a little vase with roses and neatly arranged the silverware.

"It's beautiful, sweetie," I said, meaning it. "Very fancy."

"It's perfect for our first family dinner," she said.

The words hung there. Our first family dinner—'cause we'd never had one before. When Emma was born, Mikel didn't know about her. By the time she was old enough, we weren't a family anymore.

"It really is perfect," Mikel said, his voice full of feeling.

Dinner was great. Emma talked about school, fairy houses, and her friend's new kitten. Mikel and I just chatted easily. He knew I liked my pasta al dente, and I gave him extra bread without thinking about it.

"Daddy, remember when you taught me to swim?" Emma asked with a mouthful of bread.

I froze. Mikel had never taught Emma to swim—I'd put her in lessons when she was three.

"I think you're thinking of someone else, princess," Mikel said gently.

Emma frowned. "No, I remember. You wore a blue shirt and held me while I kicked. You said I was brave like a dolphin."

My heart ached as I realized Emma had made up a memory, filling in the blanks with what she wanted to happen.

"That sounds like a great memory," Mikel said carefully.

"Maybe," I said, "we can make new swimming memories this summer. If you want to learn to swim better."

Emma's face lit up. "Could Daddy teach me real swimming? Like the big kids?"

"I'd love to," Mikel said, his voice strong despite his emotions.

My phone buzzed again on the counter. Then again.

"Mommy, your phone's loud," Emma said.

"It's just work," I said, but I felt tense.

"Maybe we should check it," Mikel said. "Just in case."

I walked over, Mikel behind me. Three new messages:

*Cozy dinner. Too bad happiness doesn't last.*

*Enjoying the reunion? Don't get comfy.*

*Nice table. It'd be a shame if something happened.*

Mikel read with me, his jaw tight. "This is getting worse."

"Not now," I whispered, looking at Emma, who was making dolphin shapes with her pasta. "She doesn't need to know."

"Bella, this is more than a threat. Someone's watching us. They know what we're eating, how Emma set the table—"

"I said not now," I repeated, my hands shaking as I flipped the phone over.

We went back to the table, trying to act normal. I kept looking at the windows, wondering if someone was out there with a camera, watching us.

After dinner, we went to the living room, and Emma showed Mikel all her drawings. He looked at each one like a real art guy, asking about colors and how she drew them.

"This one's my favorite," Emma said, holding up a drawing of three stick figures holding hands. "It's our family."

They were labeled: MOMMY, DADDY, and ME. They stood in front of a house with a tree and flowers.

"When'd you draw this?" I asked.

"Yesterday, after Daddy said he was staying in the little house. I wanted to remember us all together."

Mikel picked up the drawing, studying it. "Can I keep this?"

"Really? Do you want it?"

"I want to keep it forever. I can hang it in my office?"

Emma smiled. "Then everyone will know you have a family!"

Her excitement made me feel emotional. Of course she wanted people to know Mikel was her dad—she wanted everyone to know she had a dad who loved her.

"Emma," Mikel said, "I want everyone to know I have the best daughter in the world."

"And the most beautiful mommy," Emma added.

I blushed as Mikel looked at me. "Yes," he said softly. "And the most beautiful mommy."

By eight, Emma was yawning, even though she said she wasn't tired. "Can Daddy read bedtime stories?"

"If Daddy wants to," I said.

"I'd love to."

We went upstairs, Emma skipping between us, talking about the books she wanted. In her room, we got into a routine—I helped her with pajamas while Mikel picked books, then we sat on her bed as she chose.

"This one first," Emma said, giving Mikel a book about a baby elephant finding her family. "Then Mommy can read the dolphin one."

As Mikel read, his voice gentle, I watched him. He was focused on Emma, using funny voices and answering her questions. He was so loving it made my heart ache.

When it was my turn, I felt aware of him beside me on Emma's bed. Our shoulders touched as we leaned over the book, and I smelled his cologne and leaves from their walk.

"One more story?" Emma asked.

"How about a song?" Mikel said. "Does Mommy still sing the lullaby about stars?"

I was surprised. "You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you," he said quietly.

Emma clapped. "Sing the star song, Mommy! Please?"

I hadn't sung that song in years—it reminded me of what we'd lost. But looking at my daughter and Mikel, I started to sing the song my mom taught me:

*Twinkle, twinkle, little star, wonder what you're wishing for...*

Emma's eyes closed as I sang, and by the end, she was almost asleep. Mikel joined in for the last line, our voices together.

"That was beautiful," Emma mumbled. "Like real families."

We kissed her goodnight and left the door open. In the hallway, we stood close, not wanting the night to end.

"She's amazing," Mikel said softly. "You've done great with her."

"We did that together tonight," I said. "The bedtime stuff. It felt... natural."

"It felt perfect." He paused. "Bella, I know we're going slow, but tonight..."

"Tonight felt like a peek at what we could be," I said.

"Exactly."

We were close now, and I saw sparks in his eyes. The same eyes Emma had.

My phone buzzed, a reminder we weren't alone.

"I'm not reading it," I said. "Not tonight."

"Maybe you should. If it's getting worse—"

"If it is, there's nothing we can do without cops and messing things up and Emma asking questions I can't answer." I looked at him, seeing he wanted to protect her too. "Tonight was perfect. I want to hold onto that."

He looked at me for a while, then nodded. "Okay."

"I should walk you to the guest house," I said, but we didn't move.

"I should let you rest," he said, still not moving.

We were close, the air thick with possibilities and threats. I thought about the missed kiss from yesterday, wondering what would've happened if Emma hadn't shown up.

Wondering what would happen now if someone wasn't watching.

"Mikel"

"Bella"

We spoke at once, then laughed.

"You first," he said.

"I just wanted to say tonight was great. For Emma, but for me too. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone in this with me."

"I was gonna say I don't want this to end. Not just tonight, but this—us, together, being a family."

My heart skipped a beat. "What are you saying?"

"I want more nights like this. More stories and dinners and fairy houses. I want to be part of Emma's life, not just the emergencies."

"And what about my life?" I asked.

He touched my face, his thumb on my cheek. "I want to be part of that too. If you want me."

The kiss was soft and sweet and tasted like the future we could have. When we stopped, we were out of breath.

My phone buzzed, a reminder we weren't alone.

"We should probably..." I pointed to the stairs.

"Probably," he said, but didn't move.

"Will you come for breakfast tomorrow?" I asked.

"Try to stop me."

After I walked him to the guest house, I went to Emma's room, watching her sleep. Her family drawing was on her nightstand, the stick figures holding hands under a sun.

In the kitchen, I loaded the dishes and put away the china, smiling. The house felt different tonight—warmer, more alive, like a home.

Finally, I looked at my phone. Seven messages, all saying the same: we were being watched, our happiness wouldn't last, we weren't safe.

But instead of fear, I felt something stronger. Determination.

Someone could watch us. Someone could try to threaten us. But they couldn't touch what happened tonight—the laughter, the stories, the way Emma fell asleep knowing we loved her.

For the first time in years, I thought of us instead of I when I planned tomorrow. We would have breakfast. We would drive Emma to school. We would figure this out together.

It should have scared me, but it filled me with hope.

Maybe Emma was right. Maybe we could be a family.

Even if someone was watching, waiting to hurt us.

They could watch all they wanted.

They couldn't have what was ours