Bethany
Raphael kissed me, and God help me, I had kissed him back.
I walked into the hall to hang up my jacket, and my all-too perceptive daughter looked up and asked innocently, “Mommy, why is your face so red?”
I lifted my hands to my hot cheeks. “Oh I think it’s just from the cold,” I said, sticking our winter clothes in the closet.
“Did you have a good time?” I asked when I emerged, hoping to redirect her attention.
“Yeah! It was great! Did you see Uncle Rafe playing the basketball game? He didn’t miss any!”
I smiled indulgently, and she followed me into Charlie’s room. We had a regular bedtime routine where I helped her use the bathroom and brush her teeth, and then she changed into one of her long flannel night gowns and an adult pull up. Once she was comfortably tucked in h
