Chapter 13 - THE HOUSE FILLED WITH MUSIC
Isabella turned one in October.
We celebrated at the farmhouse.
A small party.
Family friends.
Olivia Chen.
Rebecca Hale.
A few neighbors.
And Dominic, who arrived with a stuffed giraffe almost as tall as Isabella.
She stared at it.
Then burst into laughter.
Dominic looked delighted.
"I think she likes it."
I smiled.
"She does."
The farmhouse had changed.
The porch had been repaired.
The garden was full of flowers.
My office had shelves filled with contract binders and children's books.
The kitchen was bright.
The living room contained toys.
Every room felt lived in.
Not staged.
Not silent.
Alive.
One afternoon, Isabella began dancing to music from the radio.
She swayed on unsteady feet.
Clapped her hands.
Then fell onto her bottom and laughed.
I laughed too.
Dominic watched from the doorway.
His expression softened.
"She loves music."
I nodded.
"She does."
He looked at me.
"You always did too."
I froze.
He swallowed.
"I remember you singing when we first married."
I looked away.
He continued.
"Then you stopped."
Silence.
I looked at Isabella.
"Yes."
Dominic's eyes filled.
"I'm sorry."
I nodded.
"I know."
Later, after he left, I sat on the floor with Isabella.
She crawled into my lap.
I kissed her hair.
"Do you know something, sweetheart?"
She babbled happily.
I smiled.
"Mommy used to be afraid of making noise."
Isabella reached for my necklace.
I laughed.
"Not anymore."
May you like
I turned up the music.
And we danced.
