Page 88 of Wild Heart
“Do you want to know what my dream has always been?”
I stopped cleaning and focused everything on her. Whatever she told me her dream had always been, I was going to do everything in my power to make it come true for her. “No. What has always been your dream?”
She bit her lip and hesitated to respond. And just as she parted her lips to answer me, the timer for the muffins went off. Ava dropped the tongs she’d been using to turn the bacon, spun around, and moved to open the oven door.
“Ah, they look like they might be okay. I didn’t burn them. Wait. Where are the oven mitts?”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop smiling if this was what I’d experience every day with Ava. I pulled open the drawer with the oven mitts, put them on my hands, and took the muffins out. “They do look good.”
“Okay. Let me finish the eggs and bacon, and maybe those will be cooled enough by then to eat,” she said.
Not wanting to distract her from that, I went about pulling out plates, napkins, and utensils. I also grabbed two coffee mugs.
A few minutes later, even though the kitchen itself was trashed, Ava had successfully made us breakfast. “Okay, I need to know. What do you think? Is it terrible?”
I’d sampled a bite of everything. The eggs were great, the bacon had been cooked a little bit more than I would have liked, and the muffins were a little dry. “I love it,” I told her. “Everything is perfect.”
She smiled, her eyes widening in surprise. “Really?”
It didn’t matter to me that everything hadn’t been cooked to perfection. Ava had made it. She’d spent the night here in my bed, woke up, and made us breakfast. It could have tasted worse than dog food, and I was convinced I would have gobbled up every bite just to see her smile like that.
“Yes, Ava. Really.”
“I think the muffins might be a little dry,” she worried.
“You think so? I think they’re delicious.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Jules to try one. She’d probably have some tips for me.”
If my sister tried these, I was sure she’d know exactly what the problem was. I just hoped she didn’t paint me to be a liar. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. So, are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” she asked, lifting her coffee mug to her lips.
“About your dream.”
She set the mug down and shifted her focus to her plate. Her fingers toyed with a piece of bacon, and when she brought herattention to my face again, I could see that hesitancy was back. It was such a stark contrast to how she’d been all morning, and I thought that was strange, considering this was about something that should have made her happy.
When she inhaled a deep breath, I braced myself for her response. A moment later, she shared, “I used to imagine us being married and it being just like your parents.”
For a moment, it was almost as though I’d forgotten where I was and what I was doing. Breakfast wasn’t even a thought in my mind as goosebumps slid along my spine and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. “What?”
“Your dad dances with your mom, especially at Christmas. It’s like that holiday is their most special one. Anyway, I’ve spent years dreaming about us being like that, married with me dancing around the house and you walking up to join me.”
Jesus.
I felt a tightness in my chest.
Even if I’d spent the morning thinking about Ava being in my life forever, I hadn’t really had the thought of marriage. She’d been turned down repeatedly by me for years, and this was still her dream. All she ever wanted was me. To dance with me.
Was my racing heart and sudden lightheadedness the result of feeling immense happiness, or was it all the regret I felt for having not given this to Ava already?
When I took too long thinking about how her words made me feel, Ava must have gotten the wrong idea. “Tate, it’s a silly thing. It’s not serious or?—”
“Don’t,” I ordered, reaching for her hand.
“Don’t what?”
My fingers tightened around hers. “It’s not silly. It’s what you want. And I’m going to see what I can do about making that dream come true for you.”