The spot beside me is empty, and Chloe will be home soon and based on the delicious scents lingering in the air, Finn is making something yummy for breakfast.
I should help her.
Instead, I lie there for another minute thinking about last night.
And yeah, the memory puts a giant grin on my face.
Finn in my bed.
In my arms.
Her skin soft under my hands.
Her pleasure on my tongue.
My balls ache, but yeah, so totally worth it to watch her orgasm breaking her apart, to be the one who was able to piece her back together.
And sleeping with her pressed against me? Fucking perfection.
Pear bats at my beard and I sigh, finally pushing up. “All right. Fine. I’m going.”
Both kittens leap off the bed like they’ve won.
And they likely have—me getting up means they’ll have food in their bowls and treats in their bellies.
But first, I make a pitstop in the bathroom, take care of the necessary morning business.
I wash my hands, brush my teeth, slap on some deodorant, then freeze when I catch sight of myself in the mirror.
For once, I don’t look like a man drowning.
I look likeme.
Fucking finally.
Because for so long I was lost.
Wake up.
Take care of Chloe.
Play hockey.
Come home.
Do it all again. And again. Andagain.
There’s been joy in there, sure—because of Chloe, because of the guys and their shenanigans, because life doesn’t completely stop even when grief tries to make it do exactly that—but underneath it all was…
Quiet. No.Emptiness.
Like I was going through the motions, putting on a mask so I could be a good dad for Chloe.
And now I see a glimpse of a future that will be different.
Except…the person who’s responsible for it?
She’s leaving in just a few months.
