She watched me stealthily, out of the corner of her eye. I whipped around to catch her in the act, but her nose was buried in the book by then.
I turned back to the counter, hand on my hip and observed the clock over the stove. It was twenty to eight.
The doorbell rang. She leapt out of her chair and went racing for the door. A smile escaped my lips.
He stepped in, scooped her up in his strong arms and gently kissed his daughter’s cheek.
He’s the lucky one, to have so much love waiting for him.
The prompt for this Saturday was
s/he’s the lucky one
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