Eleanor smiled, relieved. “How about we see how you feel after? If you’re doing better, you guys can go next door to Becca’s, and we’ll head out.”
Ava nodded, curling into the blanket Leo offered her.
We settled into the couch with the kids tucked between us, the glow of the TV washing over the room. Eleanor’s arm rested along the back of the couch, mine draped along the side, and somewhere in the middle, our hands found each other like they’d always known where to go.
I laced my fingers through hers and smiled to myself.
Life could be like this. All the time.
When the movie ended, Ava looked steadier. Her eyes were clearer, shoulders relaxed. But it was Eleanor’s call. It was always Eleanor’s call.
Ava turned to Leo. “Wanna go draw with chalk? My grandma ruined my art, and I want to make more.”
“Yeah,” he said immediately.
Then she looked at her mom. “You guys can go. Have fun.”
And just like that, they were gone, heading for the door with a burst of energy and purpose.
Eleanor let out a long breath and looked at me. “What do you think?”
“You heard her,” I said softly. “Do you want to head to Columbus? I think we can still make it in time for the bout.”
She smiled. “Let’s go.”
I grabbed my keys, heart light and full. We stopped next door to fill in Becca and say our goodbyes, and then suddenly we were in the car with snacks in the cup holders, the road stretching out ahead of us.
On our way.
The windows were down, warm summer air rushing through the car, her hair lifting and falling in the breeze. My hand restedon her thigh like it belonged there, like it always had. She was humming along with the radio, tapping the dashboard in time with the music, smiling to herself.
For a moment, I felt . . . young.
Not the kind of teenager I’d been, locked inside rules and fear and a world that never let me breathe. The kind I should’ve been. The kind who got to drive too fast with the windows down and someone he adored beside him, the future wide open.
“Hey,” Eleanor said, glancing over at me. “You went quiet. What are you thinking about?”
I took a breath, letting myself be honest. “I was just thinking about how good this feels.”
“Good how?”
“Being here with you,” I said. “These last few days. I almost feel like I am reclaiming the youth I should have had. I know that probably sounds so weird, but it's true.” I shot a glance over at her. “You’re . . . incredible, Eleanor. You’re an amazing mom. You’re brave and funny, and you keep showing up even when things are hard. Being with you feels like sunshine after a long winter.”
She blinked at me, eyes suddenly bright, a little glassy in the best way.
“Alex,” she whispered.
I squeezed her leg gently. “I mean it.”
And in that moment, with the road stretching out in front of us and her smile lighting up the car, it felt like everything was finally, quietly, right.
“Sometimes when I’m with you,” Eleanor said quietly, “I forget you grew up like that. I guess we were both kind of stifled as teenagers, huh?”
I let out a rough little chuckle. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”
She watched me for a moment. “What was it like?”
“Terrifying,” I said honestly. “Always afraid of getting in trouble. Always afraid of disappointing God. Afraid that one wrong thought or one wrong move meant eternal damnation.” I shook my head. “And as bad as it was for me . . . It was ten times worse for Becca. Girls had it harder. Always.”
