I found them in the backyard together.
All of my boys—Liam, Noah, and Atlas playing basketball on the small court Emmett installed years ago. Liam and Noah were playing against Atlas, with a laughing Liam blocking out his dad so Noah could shoot the ball.
I don't know how long I stood by the back door, just watching. I couldn't take my eyes off them. It was one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen.
Liam and his dad high-fived, then Atlas put Noah on his shoulders so he could dunk. I didn't stand a chance against the tears falling down my cheeks at the sight of my whole heart happy together.
Hope bloomed in my chest, and I felt someone next to me, turning to see Diane watching the scene with the same love reflected in her eyes.
"They've been out there for a couple of hours," she smiled. "I think this weekend was really good, sweetheart."
I nod, because my throat is too tight to say anything.
"I'm scared. That this is all just new progress. That it won't hold..."
"It's day by day, Wendy," Diane says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my head. "He’s earning it day by day."
I nod, smiling through my tears as I watch my husband play with our sons.
"He is."
The buzzer startles me, and I glance up to see the boys running to the bench for the huddle. Liam glances back once more at me before rushing over to his teammates.
Noah sits on the bleachers in front of me, right next to Birdie. I smiled when I saw that she was wearing a very familiar Mercy Ridge Bears hoodie that I remember folding and putting in Liam's dresser.
She and Noah seem to get along; he can keep a conversation going and explain his new shading technique in detail while she listens intently. I've started driving her home after the games now that I'm friends with Bonnie.
My leg starts jumping when I see the referees calling the teams to start the game, and I open my phone to text Atlas.
Deja ju hits me, remembering the games I did this exact thing, texting my husband to find out where he was.
He said he would be here. He promised Liam. He said he would.
My fingers shake as I draft the text—Are you okay—when Noah yells.
"Dad!"
My head snaps up to see Atlas rushing toward us. He's still in his blue, grease-stained overalls that he’s tied at his waist—his usual sign that he rushed out of the garage.
That little sign makes my heart flutter.
He rushed to get here. He wants to be here.
He's got a Durant Auto hoodie on to keep him warm.He never wears a jacket unless there’s snow on the ground, and even then. I would always joke that he should wear an actual jacket, which he usually quips that it's too many layers between us.
There's an apologetic grin on his face as he walks up the bleachers toward us. He drops a kiss to Noah's tilted-up head, the sight making my heart warm. "Hey, buddy."
"Hi, Daddy," he grins.
I glance over to my other son to catch his attention that his dad is here, but Liam's already looking, and he's smiling.
I tap Atlas' shoulder, and he follows my pointed finger, Liam waving as he and his team wait for tip-off.
Atlas waves back to him before he sits down next to me, huffing and puffing a bit.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he sighs, looking disappointed. "Hartford Road was closed, so I had to go around, and then I got stuck behind rush hour traffic—"
I gently cut him off, my voice wobbling. "You're here."
