“Starving,” I say.
She grins, grabs my hand, and leads me to the table.
There’s food, stuff she made from scratch. Bread, cheese, something green I don’t recognize. She pours me a drink, then sits across from me, legs tucked under her.
We eat in silence. Not awkward, just easy.
Halfway through, she looks up. “What’s it like?” she asks.
I shrug. “What?”
“Running the world.” There’s a glint in her eye, not mocking but hungry for the truth.
“Well, you’d know, princess. But all in all… it’s the same as before,” I say. “Just more people waiting for me to fuck up.”
She nods, satisfied. “You won’t.”
I hope she’s right. I want to believe her.
She gets up, brings over a tin of cookies, and sets it down in front of me.
“Is this supposed to be a bribe?” I say.
“Maybe,” she says, mouth quirking. “Eat one.”
I take the biggest. It crumbles in my hand, but I shove it in my mouth anyway.
She watches, smiling. “You’re a mess, you know that?”
I finish the cookie, lick the crumbs from my fingers. “You love it.”
She walks around the table, straddles my lap, settles in like it’s always been her place. Her hands go to my neck, fingers tracing the scar there. Her touch is light, but I feel it everywhere.
I rest my hands on her hips, pulling her closer.
She kisses me, slow, tasting the cookie. I want to devour her, but I let her set the pace.
When she pulls back, her eyes are dark. “Promise me something,” she says.
“Anything.”
“Don’t become them.” She says it soft, but it’s an order.
I nod. “Never.”
She leans in, forehead to mine. “Good.”
We sit like that, breathing each other, for a long time.
Finally, she stands, takes my hand, and leads me to bed.
We fuck like animals, but afterwards she curls into me, legs tangled, head on my chest.
I stroke her hair, slow, matching my breath to hers.
And I make my vow, not just to her but to the kid we might have someday.
I will not leave. I will not fail. I will be the father I never had.
