Alexander
The ride operator, a teenager who looked bored out of his mind, waved us forward. “Three?”
“Yes,” Madison said quickly.
We climbed into one of the rocket ships, Ethan squeezing between us on the bench seat. The space was tight, forcing Madison and me closer than we’d been in years. Her shoulder pressed against mine as she helped Ethan buckle his safety belt.
“You ready, prince?” I asked.
“So ready!” His hands gripped the safety bar. “This is gonna be awesome!”
The ride lurched into motion. Ethan squealed with delight as we started spinning, faster and faster, the park blurring into
streaks of color.
“Look how fast we’re going!” Ethan’s laughter was pure and uncomplicated.
I glanced at Madison. She was watching Ethan with that expression mothers get when their kids are happy, all soft edges and genuine warmth.
The ride spun faster. Ethan’s delighted screams mixed with the carnival music and other kids‘ laughter.
Three minutes later, the ride slowed. Ethan was still bouncing as we climbed out, immediately launching into a detailed recap of the experience.
“Did you see how fast we went? And the way everything got all blurry? And that one part where it felt like we were flying?” His hands gestured wildly. “That was the best thing ever!”
We exited through the gate, Ethan still chattering. The crowd pressed around us, families and couples and groups of teenagers all navigating the narrow pathway between attractions.
My hand found the small of Madison’s back automatically, guiding her through the crowd with protective instinct. The touch felt practiced, familiar, like muscle memory from years of navigating galas and business dinners when we’d moved as a unit.
She didn’t pull away.
The realization hit harder than it should have. After everything, after all the hurt and anger, she still let me touch her like this.
Like it was natural. Like we’d done it a thousand times before.
Because we had.
How many events had we attended together? How many times had I guided her through crowds exactly like this, my hand at her back, steering her past obstacles and people who got too close?
Too many to count.
And now here we were, doing it again, but everything had changed. We weren’t boss and assistant anymore. Weren’t even friends. Just two people connected by a child who thought I was some kind of king.
“Where to next?” I asked quietly, my hand still resting against her spine.
Madison glanced at Ethan, who was already looking around, probably to select another ride. “Wherever he wants to go, I suppose.”
Ethan’s finger jabbed toward a colorful striped structure near the games area. “What’s that?”
I followed his gaze to the old–fashioned photo booth, the kind with the curtain and the bench inside. “That’s a photo booth.”
“What’s it do?”
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Madison crouched down to his level. “It takes pictures. Instant pictures that print out right away.”
“Like magic?” Ethan’s eyes went wide.
“Sort of like magic.” She smiled. “Want to try it?”
“YES!” He was already running toward it before Madison could stand up properly.
We followed at a more reasonable pace. Ethan circled the booth like it might explode, peering through the curtain with intense concentration.
“How does it work?” He poked at the curtain.
“You sit inside, press the button, and it takes your picture,” Madison explained. “Then the pictures come out here.” She tapped the slot at the bottom.
“Can I try? Please, please, please?”
“Sure, baby.” Madison pulled back the curtain, revealing the small bench inside. “Hop in.”
Ethan scrambled onto the bench, his feet dangling. Madison fed bills into the machine, and the mechanical whirr signaled it was ready.
“Okay, look at the camera and smile.”
The flash went off. Ethan blinked, surprised, then grinned wider. Three more flashes in quick succession, each one capturing a different expression ranging from shock to delight.
The machine made grinding noises as it processed the images.
“Are they coming?” Ethan bounced on the bench.
“Give it a second.”
The strip of photos emerged from the slot. Madison grabbed it, waving it slightly to help it develop.
“Let me see!” Ethan practically launched himself off the bench.
Madison held the strip down for him. Four identical shots of Ethan’s face, each one capturing his pure joy.
“I look funny!” He giggled, touching his image. “My eyes are all big!”
“That’s because you were surprised by the flash.” Madison smoothed his hair. “You want to take more?”
“Family pictures!” The words came out before I could process what Ethan was suggesting. “We need family pictures! Like the ones at Aunt Hazel’s house!”
Madison went rigid. “Baby, I don’t think
“Please!” Ethan grabbed both our hands, tugging us toward the booth. “I want pictures with you AND King Alexander!”
I met Madison’s eyes over Ethan’s head. She looked torn, clearly wanting to refuse but unable to disappoint the kid.
“Just one,” she said finally, her voice tight. “One picture.”
“YAY!” Ethan dragged us both into the booth.
The space was cramped, designed for maybe two adults at most. Three of us barely fit, our bodies pressed together on the narrow bench. Ethan wedged himself between Madison and me, his small body vibrating with excitement.
“Everyone smile!” He commanded.
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Madison fed more money into the slot. The machine beeped, ready.
I put my arm around Ethan’s shoulders, feeling Madison tense beside me. The first flash went off, capturing whatever awkward expression we were all wearing.
“Smile bigger!” Ethan insisted, making an exaggerated grin.
Second flash. Madison’s shoulder pressed against mine, her perfume mixing with cotton candy and sunshine.
“Make funny faces!”
Ethan crossed his eyes. Third flash.
“One more normal one,” Madison said, her voice softer now.
Fourth flash. I glanced at her just as it went off, catching her profile, the way afternoon light filtered through the curtain, highlighting her features.
The machine ground to life, processing our strip.
“That was so fun!” Ethan bounced between us. “Can we do it again?”
“Let’s see how these turned out first,” Madison said, climbing out of the booth with obvious relief.
The photos emerged. Madison grabbed the strip, and I leaned over her shoulder to see.
Four images of the three of us crammed into that tiny booth. The first one captured our surprise, looking like deer caught in headlights. The second showed Ethan’s enormous grin between our more tentative smiles. Third had all three of us with ridiculous crossed eyes and scrunched faces. The last one was different. More genuine. Ethan beaming, Madison’s expression soft, and me looking at her instead of the camera.
We looked like a family.
The thought hit harder than it should have.
P
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
