The Longest Five Years (Completed)

Reagan

Present Day

"Wake up, Reagan! Wake up, wake up!"

My eyes crack open slowly, and I'm met with a pair of baby blues. Emmy bounces up and down beside me with a huge smile on her face, and it's then I remember where I am. I blink away the sleep in my eyes and sit up so we're face to face. I am not an earlier riser; my career keeps me up late and doesn't ask that I wake up before noon, but I certainly won't be sleeping in here.

"Hey, Em," I whisper sleepily.

"Morning," she says happily, as if it's the greatest thing in the world that I'm here. "Your hair is silly," she touches it carefully. I'm not sure how she does it, but she sucks the awkwardness right out of this whole situation.

"Feeling better?" I ask.

"Yep! Let's go eat breakfast," she says matter-of-factly, and takes my hand. And as I'm led down the stairs by the small, giggly little girl, I can't help but wonder it must be like raising someone so tiny, knowing they will one day help run the future.

My bare feet touch the bottom of the stairs and I catch a quick glance of myself in the bathroom mirror across from me. Emmy works to tug me harder down the hall into the kitchen, but I tell her I'll meet her there and escape to bathroom. She's right; my hair is silly. I wet my hands and smooth my fingers through it carefully, hoping to get it somewhat manageable before undoubtedly bumping into Luke. I splash water on my face and do my best to wash any trace of last night's makeup smudges from my eyes. And after I few seconds psyching myself up, I make my way to the kitchen.

I enter quietly, unsteadily, and watch Luke at the stove. He's barefoot, iin a pair of dark grey sweatpants and a light blue v-neck t-shirt. There's music playing from the speaker in the corner, and he's leaning over a griddle flipping pancakes while his little girl colors at the breakfast table. It's calm, and before he can see me, I take these fleeting seconds to make a memory – one of the first of him in many years that doesn't hurt.

"Sit next to me, Reagan!" Emmy bounces in her chair, and Luke realizes I've wandered into the room. His eyes catch mine for a second and he smiles. I really loved his morning smiles.

Oh, this whole thing is weird.

"The coffee is fresh. Made it when I heard you ladies coming down the stairs. Mugs are up in that cabinet," he says pointing to his right with the spatula. I thank him and grab two, pouring us each a cup. My hand shakes when I give it to him, and his fingers lightly brush mine against mine. They're as warm as I remember. This is probably trouble.

"You still like pancakes, right?" He asks and I nod. "You're not on some health kick or anything are you? Asking if you still like whip cream doesn't offend you...?"

"God, no. I could never go without pancakes. You know breakfast is my favorite," I tell him and he nods. Seeing him this way is nice. He's slightly sleepy with a pink tint to his cheeks and his hair is a little mussed. It's like I've stepped into a time warp. I can't count how many times I've imagined this moment – relived moments so similar to this, minus the kids, even when it should've been the furthest thing from my mind. And now that I'm here and I'm living it, it's not half as painful as I would've guessed. The truth is, I hated him with all the fires of hell, but only because I knew I could never, ever stop loving him.

He would do this. He would make my favorite thing in the world – his pancakes. Forget what I said about restaurants and only eating one thing for the rest of my life; Luke's pancakes are on a whole other level. How can he do this to me right now? I'm swooning over food.

"You wanna color with me while Daddy makes breakfast?"

"Sure," I say simply, pulling up a chair beside her. She slides me a piece of paper and a few crayons and tells me I'm welcome to whichever colors I'd like to use. I haven't colored in years, so I draw a dog and a house. She draws a castle and a king and a queen with horses, and the amount of care she puts into it is completely adorable. "Oooh, you're good. Pink is my favorite color!" she squeals and I smile.