Lenzin slides a bowl in front of me with that quiet little smile.
“Thank you,” I say, eyes soft on him.
He leans down and brushes his lips against my temple. “You did the work where it matters; I just heated it up.”
And yeah, soup has never felt more romantic or sexy.
Behind us, Hank is muttering, “I’m gonna post this with the hashtag ‘Soup Goals.’”
As I have learned, there is always a nap on game days, and today, I am totally here for it. I came in here because Lenzin told me I should rest, and Lucy immediately decided that meanteveryoneshould rest. I am here for it.
I’m lying here in our bed, listening.
“…and we don’t even have school tomorrow.”
“No school on Saturday or Sunday.”
“So, we could come to the game,” Lucy says hopefully.
There’s a pause before he gently says, “Saturday games are a little different.”
“How?”
“More people. More noise.”
Lucy thinks about that. “But we sit in the fish bowl thing.”
I smile faintly.
“The suite,” he corrects quietly.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“When school is in session, I think you should rest your brain, during school days,mein kleines Herz.”
Lucy goes quiet, and that is her version of unhappy. I am grateful she doesn’t throw tantrums. “But I like the games.”
“I know you do, and I love seeing you and Mommy there, but?—"
“I missed you,” she says suddenly.
“I missed you, too,” he replies softly. “And I missed reading to you with your mom.”
He clears his throat and starts reading, but Lucy interrupts. “You have a game tonight.”
“I do.”
“And tomorrow.”
“Just practice…”
“Next week?”
“No games next week.”
“Why?”
