The sunroom was warm and golden and quiet, and Ella was reading in the chair with her legs tucked under her, and I was on the floor beside her pretending to work.I was not working.I was watching her ankle. Specifically the way the light hit the small bone on the inside, the curve of tendon, the soft skin I'd been tracing circles on for the last forty minutes. She hadn't told me to stop. She never told me to stop.The twins were at Sera's. Levi was setting up whatever grand romantic gesture he'd been hiding from me for weeks. The house was empty. The fire crackled in the iron stove and Ella turned a page and made a small sound, the kind she made when she read something that pleased her, a quiet hum at the back of her throat.That sound.My thumb pressed harder against her ankle. She glanced down at me over the edge of her book."You're not working," she said."I'm multitasking.""Your laptop's been on the same email for twenty minutes.""It's a long email."She smiled. That slow one.
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