DOMINIC
Mila didn't respond at first. She stood frozen—eyes wide, mouth parted, shoulders hunched like the moment had knocked the breath out of her.
I took a step forward, ready to speak, but Harper held out a hand to stop me.
Then, as if her brain had finally caught up with her heart, Mila gasped.
"All this… for me?" she whispered, inching toward the table. Her movements were cautious, reverent, like blinking too fast might make everything vanish.
"There's more, baby," Harper said with a soft grin.
Mila paused, glancing up at her. But her face fell, lips trembling. Her tiny body began to shake.
"Did something happen?" I asked, concern sharpening my voice.
She shook her head, but then came the sniffling. A quiet, broken sound that quickly turned into a full-blown sob.
"Shit, did I say something wrong?" Harper whispered, panic creeping in. She turned to me, eyes wide with guilt. "I should just stop talking when it matters. God, I say the wrong thing all the time."
