It felt almost surreal, sitting in the passenger seat while Lucas drove them to Rachel's school.
For days, she'd done this alone— walking to the school and then waiting for a while before Rachel came running to her.
Today was different.
Today, Lucas was here too.
The car eased to a stop among the line of waiting parents. Bella glanced sideways, her heart doing that unsteady little jump it seemed to reserve just for him.
"Thank you for coming," she said, her voice soft.
His hand rested on the gearshift, his thumb tapping absently. "You don't have to thank me."
"I do," she insisted. "It means…a lot."
Lucas looked over then, his gaze steady and something close to vulnerable. "I told you. I'm trying."
Before she could answer, the front doors of the school swung open, and a flood of children came spilling out.
Bella's breath caught when she spotted Rachel in her yellow sundress, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"She's growing so fast," she murmured.
Lucas's mouth curved. "She looks happy."
But as Rachel's eyes found them—first her, then Lucas—her little face crumpled.
"Oh," Bella breathed, her heart twisting.
Rachel broke into a run, but there was no smile, no excited wave. Just a wobbling pout that made Bella's throat ache.
She threw open the door just in time to catch her daughter in her arms.
"Hey, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "What's wrong?"
Rachel sniffled, turning her big, damp eyes to Lucas.
"You didn't kiss me good morning," she said, her voice wobbling. "You always kiss me good morning."
Bella felt Lucas go still beside her.
Slowly, he crouched down, coming eye level with Rachel.
"I'm sorry, piccola," he said, his voice low and careful. "I had to leave early."
Her little chin wobbled. "But you didn't even wake me up."
Bella's heart ached. She reached out, smoothing Rachel's hair back, but before she could say anything, Lucas lifted his hand to gently cup Rachel's cheek.
"You're right," he said softly. "That was my mistake."
Rachel sniffed again, her small hands twisting in Bella's sleeve.
Lucas leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then another to her cheek.
"Can I make it up to you?" he asked, his mouth brushing her hair.
Rachel's voice was muffled as she burrowed against Bella's shoulder. "How?"
Lucas pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
"Would you like to pick somewhere special for us to have dinner tonight?"
Rachel hesitated, peeking up at him through her lashes. "Anywhere?"
"Anywhere you want."
Her little face brightened, though her voice was still uncertain. "Even the place with the big ice creams?"
Lucas's mouth curved into a real smile. "Even there."
Rachel finally giggled, though it was watery. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I missed you," she whispered.
He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to her hair. "I missed you too, piccola."
Bella looked away, blinking fast against the sting behind her eyes.
When she glanced back, Lucas's gaze was on her over Rachel's shoulder—steady, warm, and something that felt too big to name.
She swallowed, her heart lifting in her chest.
Maybe it was such a small thing, this moment in the school parking lot. But it felt like a promise.
A promise that no matter how uncertain everything else was, they were building something real together—one small morning kiss, one gentle apology at a time.
------
Lunch was a quiet, contented affair.
They ate together at the dining table, Rachel happily chattering about her day while Lucas listened with the kind of patience Bella still wasn't used to seeing in men.
Every so often, their eyes would meet—over Rachel's head, over the plates of pasta and salad—and something unspoken would flicker between them.
Something that made her heart do a slow, tumbling dance in her chest.
When the plates were cleared and Rachel disappeared into the bedroom to play with her toys, Bella turned to put the last of the dishes in the sink.
That was when she felt, rather than saw, Lucas moving behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him reaching for a glass he'd left near the edge of the counter.
But as he straightened, his foot caught on the corner of the rug, and he lurched forward with a startled curse.
"Lucas—"
His hand shot out, grabbing for the counter—
Only it wasn't the counter his palm landed on.
Bella sucked in a sharp breath, her body going rigid as he pitched into her, stopping himself with one hand planted firmly—very firmly—over her breast.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
For a split second, neither of them moved.
Then Lucas let out a long, shaky exhale.
"Thank God," he muttered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "I thought I was going to hit the floor."
She swallowed, her heart hammering so loudly she was surprised he couldn't hear it. "You—um—didn't."
"Yeah," he said, still not lifting his head. "What…what exactly saved me?"
Slowly, cautiously, he pulled back just enough to look down—
—and then he realized exactly what he was holding.
His eyes widened.
"Oh."
Her cheeks went up in flames.
Lucas quickly straightened, his hand dropping as if he'd touched something scalding. He scrubbed it over his face, then dragged it through his hair, looking anywhere but at her.
Bella pressed a hand to her chest, as if she could calm the wild fluttering under her ribs.
"I—I'm so sorry," he managed, his voice strangled. "I wasn't—God, I wasn't trying to—"
"I know," she said quickly, though she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to look him in the eye again.
He risked a glance at her, his expression torn between mortification and something she couldn't quite define.
Then, to her utter disbelief, he blurted, "It was…soft."
Her mouth fell open.
For one agonizing heartbeat, neither of them moved.
And then she saw the corner of his mouth twitch—just a little.
She let out a strangled laugh, pressing her palms to her flushed cheeks. "Lucas!"
"I mean, it was," he said helplessly, as though compelled to dig the hole deeper. "It's not—It's just—"
Her laughter bubbled up despite her embarrassment.
She smacked his shoulder lightly, half mortified, half absurdly fond. "Stop talking."
"Right," he said, but he was grinning now, his ears bright red. "Stopping."
They stared at each other, breathless.
Then he reached up, almost shyly, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"I really am sorry," he said, softer this time.
"I know," she whispered.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
And though her heart was still beating far too fast, she found she didn't really want the moment to end.