Reece laughs. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Trust me. It’ll all be fine.” He walks around the counter and pauses the camera. “Now, do I get to eat some of this when it’s ready?”

“I made a truck load. You have no choice.”

I breathe in the smell of melted cheese. My own stomach rumbles, and I have to remember to make a big deal of taking it out of the oven for the camera.

I spoon out two plates of food.

“This looks amazing. I love your cooking.”

I laugh. “You have enough of it.”

“Josh needs to be here for this.”

I suck in a painful breath. I’d tucked that thought away myself this morning.

“Delaney? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just … I’d love if he was here, but he’s got a lot on his plate.” I pause. “So do you, so why are you here?”

“I was hungry, and felt like some company other than your boyfriend.” He grins. “Honestly, I love the shit out of Josh. He’s like a brother to me. So having you and Amelia here is like having family. My family is half a country away.”

I swallow hard.

“Josh is working hard, but you know he’d spend more time at home if you needed him to.”

My eyes prick with tears, and I let out an anguished sigh. “I just don’t want to get in the way of his dream.”

Reece engulfs me in his embrace, kissing the top of my head. “Oh, honey. You’re his dream. Everything else is just periphery. “

I meet his gaze.

“Trust me on this. Josh would drop everything for you. He’d take you and Amelia and live a quiet life if he thought you were unhappy.”

I can’t help but smile. It’s not what I want him to do at all, but I appreciate the sentiment.

He laughs. “I love how much crap you give him. He needs it. It shows him that your love for him is real. It’s not the make-believe bullshit that’s out there. He knows you’ll be there for him no matter what, and none of this …” He waves his hand as if indicating the house. “… none of it matters.”

There are days in your life when you hear something you need to, even if you didn’t realise you needed it before you heard it.

Today is one of those days.

* * *

Amelia skips out of school toward me, a broad smile on her face. She loves this place. Sure, there’s still a lot of curiosity about the little girl with the different accent, but she’s making good friends and having fun.

“Is Daddy home?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Not yet. But I have mac and cheese for dinner, and I know that’s your favourite.”

“Can we have some ice cream too?”