"This dragon says you have to sit next to me forever," he declares.
"Sounds intense."
"Forever," he repeats.
I sit. He leans on me. We breathe the same warm, quiet air for a moment, and I feel my heart settle in my chest the way it does only when he is close.
Night rolls in without warning. I heat leftovers. He eats half of them and feeds the rest to his stuffed dinosaur. Then he insists on building a fort out of pillows. I let him win this fight, even though the living room now looks like a tornado auditioned for a movie role.
Once he is in the bath, I sit on the floor and rest my forehead on my knees for twenty seconds, the longest break I get. His bubble beard is what brings me back.
"Look, Mama," he says. "I'm old." He rubs the bubbles like a mustache.
"You look very wise," I say.
"I know."
We finish bath time, pajama time, and two rounds of "one last story." He finally knocks out with his hand holding mine and his dinosaur wedged between us like a referee.
When he is fully asleep, I ease my fingers free and tuck the blanket around him.
The house is quiet again. But not scary quiet. Just… me and my thoughts.
Gabe isn't coming tonight. He texted earlier saying he had work to take care of and would not be near his phone for a while. I read that message three times even though it was nothing dramatic. He does private security work now, a mix of consulting, planning routes, assessing risk for small companies that cannot afford full teams, and doing virtual surveillance checks for bigger clients. Half of it can be done from anywhere with a laptop and the right set of encrypted tools. He keeps it vague, but I know enough about his old life to understand why he is careful.
He probably has maps open on his screen right now, lines and coordinates, places he will never tell me about but can navigate in the dark. He always works like a man who expects something to go wrong and has ten plans for when it does.
A strange thought slips in. He could do all of this from here. From this town. From somewhere near us.
The thought scares me. It also warms something deep inside me, and I hate that it does both.
I rinse a cup in the sink. I check locks. I pick up the tiny sock Jace abandoned on the stairs. Everything feels normal and familiar and safe… except my chest, which feels full in a way I do not want to look at too closely.
I sit on the couch and pull my knees up under me.
My phone sits on the coffee table, screen dark, and I stare at it for a moment before caving. Gabe said he'd be off the grid, but maybe… just maybe. I grab it, open our chat, and hesitate. Then my fingers move anyway, tapping out a quick message.
Me: Hey, I know you're busy, but I'm sitting here thinking about you. Miss having you around tonight.
I hit send before I can overthink it, my heart thumping a little faster. The house is so damn still, and I'm half-expecting nothing back, just the void of my own thoughts. But then, a minute later, my phone vibrates, and his name lights up the screen. My stomach flips.
Gabe: Damn, Lena, you caught me at a good time. Just finished a call. I'm missing you too.
Before I can overthink it, I type the next message and cover my face with my hands after hitting send.
Me: I'm all hot and bothered for you.
Sexting wasn't on the bingo card for tonight, but after the day I've just had, damn, it feels good. With anyone else, I'd get a million things done around the house while sending messages to buff up their ego. But this isn't anyone else.
A moment later, his reply comes.
Gabe: What you wearin' right now?
I bite my lip, a grin creeping over my face. The way he cuts straight to it, no bullshit, always gets me. I glance down at my old tank top and soft shorts—hardly sexy, but screw it, I can play this up.
Me: Just a little tank and shorts. Barely anything. Feels like too much without you here to take it off.
I send it, a warm flush already creeping up my neck. I shift on the couch, tucking my legs under me tighter, waiting. His reply comes fast.
