Roxy licks my ear.
“And somehow still idiots together,” I finish.
Sable steps closer, resting her forehead against my chest. The world outside hums. Inside, the chaos settles into something livable.
Love looks like this.
Messy.
Chaotic.
Resilient.
And absolutely worth protecting.
CHAPTER 29
SABLE
The apartment finally goes quiet in that fragile, hard-won way that only happens after a child has been convinced—through negotiation, bribery, and mild intimidation—that sleep is non-optional.
Roxy’s door slides shut with a soft thrum and I stand there for a second longer than necessary, listening.
No crashing.
No chanting.
No ominous humming that suggests experimental science.
Just breathing.
I exhale.
Voltar turnsto me in the hall, fresh haircut catching the low light, expression soft in a way that still knocks the wind out of me even after all these years.
“She’s out,” he murmurs.
“For now,” I say. “Never say things like that too confidently. She can sense hubris.”
He smiles.A real one. Relaxed. Not the grin he used to wear like armor.
We walk backtoward the kitchen together, stepping over glitter residue and the lingering aftermath of domestic chaos. The counter’s a mess. The floor’s worse. The cat peers at us from behind the couch like it’s deciding whether forgiveness is worth the risk.
I lean backagainst the counter and cross my arms, suddenly very aware of him. Of us. Of the way the night has settled into something slow and heavy and expectant.
He reachesfor me without rushing, palms warm against my sides.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. “I am now.”
His thumb tracesa familiar line along my hip. Not possessive. Not urgent. Just… there. Like punctuation at the end of a sentence we’ve been writing for years.
“We could clean,”I offer.
He raises a brow. “We could.”
“We won’t.”
