“We’ll figure out logistics when I get back from training camp,” I say. “We can create a schedule and a routine that works for us. Although I feel like we’re doing a good job with that already.”
She nods.
“You’ll be gone for four weeks.”
“I know.”
“We’ll just have to FaceTime every night.”
“Every night,” I promise.
She looks up at me and smiles. “Then when you come back …”
“We build something solid.” I run my thumb across her lips.
“I feel like we’re in a good place right now,” she whispers, sounding sleepy.
“Yeah, we are.”
And for the first time in years, I don’t feel like I’m chasing something. I feel like I’m finally building something. A future with my daughter and with Alie.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Alie
Everything is quieter. Work. Home.
The couch doesn’t dip on the right side anymore. The kitchen feels bigger somehow. Too much counter space. Too much air. Even the hallway light stays off because no one forgets to turn it off now.
I’m being ridiculous. He’s only been gone for three days.
Three.
But the shift in our routine is immediate. There’s no knock on my office door. No lunches with Sera. No giant presence behind me while I cook. No warm chest brushing my back when he reaches around for the salt. No low commentary about my knife skills. No stealing pieces off the cutting board like he’s doing me a favor.
No deep voice reading bedtime stories in slightly overdramatic character accents.
And Seraphina asks for him every night.
“Daddy at football?” she says, tilting her head.
“Yes, baby,” I tell her gently. “Daddy’s working.”
“Auntie Pwes too?”
“Yes, she’s working too. She has to make sure no one gets hurt at camp.”
She nods like that all makes sense.
Then she insists on FaceTiming him, and he answers every time he has his phone nearby. Even when I know he shouldn’t.
The first night, he was still buzzing from drills.
The second night, he looked tired but steady.
Tonight, there’s something restless in him. His eyes keep darting off-screen, like he’s calculating something. Or missing something. Or both.
