Lily stifled a giggle first, a muffled, tearful sound escaping her cupped hands. It broke the spell. Watching Charlie's bewildered expression and Lily's flushed, suppressed mirth, laughter surged through me. "Ha!" Charlie's clueless charm dissolved all tension. Confused by our amusement, he whimpered and buried his head between my legs, seeking comfort—only making us laugh harder.
Cleaning Up
Laughter eased the strain, leaving profound fatigue. "Okay, okay," Lily wiped her eyes, sniffling. "Don't tease him, poor Charlie'll cry." Rising stiffly, she stretched her legs. She stacked the plastic rings; I righted the ramp and leaned the skateboard against the wall. Charlie settled in a corner, watching us work. We tidied in silence, the air no longer heavy but suffused with an odd warmth. Clearing the clutter felt akin to sweeping away weeks of suspicion.
A Delayed Embrace
Once the worst was sorted, Lily stood surveying the room, her gaze lingering on the twisted door. Her expression held fatigue, uncertainty, and a hint of worry. I studied the door too—a stark reminder of my recklessness. Moving behind her, I tentatively wrapped my arms around her waist. She stiffened briefly but didn't pull away. Resting my chin on her head, I inhaled her familiar scent. "Sorry," I murmured into her hair. "I won't doubt you again." She lifted a chilled hand, lightly grasping my arm.
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