He knows I'm not just telling him to drive safely or watch the weather.
I'm telling him to come back alive.
To survive whatever happens today so we can have tomorrow.
"I will," he says. "I give you my word."
Sofia finishes her toast and slides off the stool.
"I'm going to play with my doll."
"Stay upstairs," I tell her. "Don't go outside without telling me first."
"Okay, Mama," she calls as she runs out of the kitchen and her footsteps fade as she climbs the stairs.
Dante and I are alone now, left to the awkward silence between us because everything has changed in such a short time and neither of us knows what to do with that.
He sets his coffee cup down and moves around the counter to stand beside me.
His hand rides the small of my back while he breathes in the scent of my hair.
"Christmas is in five days," he says.
"I know."
"Sofia's been talking about presents, about what Santa might bring."
"She always does this. She gets so excited she can barely sleep the week before." I smile softly, focusing on the ache I feel for him to not go and not put himself in danger.
I'm no fool.
If he doesn't finish this, we'll never be free, but God, do I want him to stay home and not go fight those bastards.
"What does she want?" he asks, and I know he's just trying to distract me.
He can probably see the worry on my face.
"Everything. But mostly, she wants the people she loves to be happy."
I lift my eyes and meet his gaze, hoping he'll realize what I'm saying.
That I want him to be happy too.
He's quiet for a moment, then he says, "What do you want?"
The question catches me off guard.
"For Christmas?" I ask, feeling a bit puzzled.
"Yes."
A month ago, I'd have said I want nothing more than to go home and return to my mundane, safe life where I interpret and translate for my clients and Sofia has sleepovers and play dates with kids from school.
But now the answer's different.
"I want this to work," I say. "I want you to come back tonight. I want to wake up on Christmas morning with Sofia running into your room to see if Santa came. I want to watch her open presents while you drink coffee and pretend to be surprised by everything she gets."
Tears well up in my eyes as I think about the reality that there's a chance he doesn't come home at all.
