“Yes,” I confirmed.“Park.”
That earned cheers loud enough to wake the neighbors.
We spent the day doing all the things that reminded me life existed outside conference rooms and security clearances.
Swings and slides.Sticky fingers from ice cream.Juice boxes that somehow always leaked.The kind of laughter that came from the belly, unfiltered and pure.
At one point, while they chased pigeons with wild abandon, I sat on a bench and checked my phone.
A text from Dante waited.
Dante:You look happy today.
I frowned slightly, then smiled.
Nita:How would you know that?
A pause.
Dante:Call it a guess.
I glanced up at the park, at my nieces mid-squeal, then typed back.
Nita:You’re right.It’s a good day.
I dropped them back at Char’s in the early evening, both girls half-asleep, sugar crashes imminent.Char hugged me long and tight.
“You look good,” she shared softly.
“I feel good,” I admitted.
Her smile was knowing but not intrusive.“I’m glad.”
So was I.Home felt quiet after that.The good kind of quiet.I showered, changed into soft sleep clothes, and curled up on the couch with my phone balanced against a pillow.
Dante called right on time.
“Hey,” he said, voice low and familiar.
“Hey,” I replied, smiling despite myself.
We talked about nothing.The girls.His day.A stupid movie he half-watched.The sound of his voice soothed something deep in me, even as it sharpened the longing.
“I miss you,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
He didn’t tease me.Didn’t make light of it.“I know,” he replied quietly.“I miss you too.”
That simple acknowledgment meant more than any promise could’ve.
“I’m heading to bed,” I gave way to eventually, yawning as the fatigue washed over me.
“Lock your door,” he reminded me.
“I always do.”
“Check it.”
I smiled.“I checked it.”
