through the coarse hair. She has fireflies in her eyes when she brings them back to me.
“I bought her the purse with my first check I made working extra hours.”
Curious, I ask, “What in the world were you saving for then?”
“A ring.”
“A ring?” My brows crinkle. “What kind of ring?”
“An engagement ring.”
She laughs at my confused expression.
“I was going to ask you to marry me after we graduated.”
“You were?” I lift my face away from hers in surprise.
“I was. But you beat me to it.”
Something warm settles inside me.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t important. I got what I wanted when you asked me to marry you.”
Chuckling, I lean down for a kiss.
“Did you ever buy the ring?”
“Nope. You proposed two days before the last check I needed to buy it.”
“What did you end up doing with the money?”
“Bought you a leather jacket.” She winks.
I frown. “You spent six months’ worth of extra time at work on a leather jacket?”
“I did.”
“You’re crazy.”
Her cheeks puff out when she smiles big. “What do you tell me when I call you crazy?”
“That I’m crazy about you.”
Lifting her head, she closes the distance between our mouths. “I’m crazy about you too,” she murmurs against my lips.
The bedroom door opening and little patters of feet interrupt our moment. Reality sets back in when we both look over at Gemma standing at the side of the bed, her little fists rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Molly rolls to her back.
Reaching out, I grab one of her braids and gently give it a tug. Trying to keep the mood light, despite the turmoil going through Molly and me.
“Good morning, beauty.”
Her sleepy eyes, the same color as her mother’s, smile at the same time her lips tip up. “Morning.”
Reaching out, Molly wraps her arm around Gemma’s waist and pulls her forward so she can plant a kiss on her forehead. “What would you like for breakfast, baby?”
“Can we have French toast?”
“You can have anything you want. Why don’t you wake your brother up and ask what he wants? Then brush your teeth and come help me with breakfast.”
“Okay.”
Our eyes don’t move away from Gemma until she’s no longer in sight. Molly’s eyes close, and the sadness is back on her face. Grabbing her chin, I tilt her head back to me.
“Hey. None of that, okay? The possibility that they are sick too doesn’t exist until we know for sure.”
“Yeah.”
I kiss my wife before I get up from bed, taking her with me so we can both get dressed. Hearing Gemma and Gray laughing in the kitchen when we walk out of the bedroom a few minutes later is exactly what Molly and I needed. When we walk through the door, we both stop and simply stare at them. Gemma spots us first and rushes over. Grabbing both of our hands, she leads us to the table and orders, “Sit.”
Molly giggles, and I wonder how many more times I’ll hear it. I push the thought away before it has the chance to emotionally cripple me. I’m already precariously close to the edge of breaking down.
“What’s going on?” Molly asks Gemma. “I thought you and I were making breakfast?”
“Nope,” she chirps brightly. “Gray said he wants me and him to make you and Daddy breakfast.”
“Did he now?”
At my question, Gray looks over at me from where he’s standing cracking eggs in a bowl. “Yep. You and Mom are always cooking for us, so I figured we’d give you guys a break this morning.”
Yeah, our son is too intuitive for his age. I also couldn’t be more proud of him. I hate that he senses the stress his mother and I are going through, but I can’t help how much my chest expands knowing he’s trying to help in some way.
I glance at Molly and see the same love shining in her eyes.
“And what are we having?” Molly asks with a smile on her face.
“French toast and pancakes. Your’s and Daddy’s favorites,” Gemma answers, skipping over to Gray to mix what I assume is the batter for pancakes.
“Do you know how to make French toast?”
Gray smirks over his shoulder at his mother. “Dad showed me how on your birthday.”
Some of the light fades from Molly’s eyes, and I reach over to grab her hand. She looks down at them before meeting my eyes.
These two weeks will be some of the hardest we’ll ever face in the foreseeable future, but from the look now in Molly’s eyes and the