They shouldn’t mean anything, I tell myself—and fail completely.
Because they do.
They mean everything.
***
I walk toward Kael’s bedroom some time after his laughter has faded.
I needed a few moments alone after we got back from the restaurant, which means I chose to miss story time—the ritual that’s become nightly since the first time.
My mother and I have been completely replaced. Kael told us he loves us, but Daddy is much better at telling stories. I was mildly offended—but even I have to admit that yes, Nero is practically an actor, performing a private, different play for our son every single night.
The complete silence in the hallway makes me think Nero has already left. I breathe in relief—that’s exactly what I wanted, to avoid having to look at him again tonight.
But there’s a small, stubborn part of me that’s disappointed he left without saying goodbye.
I notice the light in Kael’s bedroom is still on as I approach the doorway.
I step inside—and freeze, paralyzed by the scene in front of me.
My son is asleep in his child-sized bed, tucked in. On one side, the wall. On the other, a painfully cramped Nero, wrapped around him, holding him close.
Kael snores softly, completely safe and comfortable in his father’s arms.
Nero didn’t leave.
He fell asleep with Kael.
I swallow the emotion, but I can’t stop a single silent tear from escaping. The confusion inside me stirs again.
For years, my own wants stopped mattering to me. It feels like some kind of torture that life has suddenly decided to rub them in my face—waving them in front of me in a cruel test.
I let out a long sigh and step closer to the bed.
I grabbed the folded blanket from the dresser and shook it open, draping it over Kael and Nero—there was no covering one without the other.
I step back and bite my lip, taking in the sight one more time, trying to capture it in a mental photograph no one but me will ever have.
I walk around the low headboard and lean over, kissing Kael’s hair.
Nero’s peaceful face draws me in like a magnet. I stare at him for almost a full minute.
My hand reaches out without my permission and strokes his cheek.
The touch ignites a dozen unsolicited but vivid memories—Nero and me on the beach, running and laughing. Nero and me on the sailboat, our first night. Nero and me in the bed we chose together, as he covered my belly with kisses while we tried to pick a name for our baby.
Another tear slips free.
Nero shifted in his sleep, pressing his face into my palm. His eyes remained closed, but he turned just enough to brush a ghost of a kiss against my skin before nestling back against Kael.
I pull my hand away carefully, afraid of waking him, and give myself two more seconds before leaving the room.
I take one last mental snapshot as I stop at the door—and then I promise myself that this is it.
Just this.
And nothing more.
