Natasha sat on the floor of Leo's room, with Leo standing in front of her while she tried to style his hair. He was acting dramatic as usual—tilting his head left and right, making faces in the mirror, giggling every two seconds.
"Hold still," Natasha muttered, fighting a smile while trying to smooth down the front.
"But it's itching me!" Leo protested, wriggling.
"Your hair can't itch you in two seconds."
"It can."
She sighed. "Leo, please."
He laughed again, lifting the comb from her hand. "Mommy, let me do it myself."
"You'll mess it up," she warned.
"I won't!"
She rolled her eyes. "You always say that."
He grinned proudly. Natasha watched him for a second—his tiny fingers trying to comb even though the comb kept slipping. He really was adorable, and he was happy. Genuinely happy. Nathan had been happier too. Even Fiona's presence had softened the whole house.
And Natasha…she was trying. Really trying, then her phone rang.
