That sentence landed hard. He knew that smile—the one that said I’m fine while meaning I’m barely standing.
“Where is she?” he heard himself ask.
Three small fingers pointed toward the bar.
A woman in a navy dress stood there, holding a glass of wine like armor. Not flashy. Just graceful. Dark hair pinned back, posture straight, smile practiced.
“That’s our mom,” said the first. “Her name’s Megan Carter.”
“She’s a nurse,” added the second. “Works a lot.”
“She reads to us even when she’s falling asleep,” whispered the third.
Megan noticed them and walked over, her expression shifting from surprise to concern.
“Girls…” she sighed. “I’m so sorry, sir. I hope they’re not bothering you.”
Up close, Daniel saw exhaustion in her eyes, lines earned honestly.
“They’re not,” he said, standing. “Actually… I was hoping I could join you. Weddings are heavy alone.”
She hesitated. “You don’t have to.”
“I’d like to,” he said. “Your daughters just saved me the trouble of introducing myself.”
A real smile flickered through her careful one.
“I’m Megan Carter,” she said, offering her hand.
“Daniel Brooks.”
Behind her, the girls gave him enthusiastic thumbs-up.