“I’ve got it.”
He picks up the wet towels anyway. Grabs the dirty clothes and takes them to the hamper. Comes back with dry towels and helps me soak up the rest of the water.
We work in silence. His shoulder brushes mine. I’m hyperaware of how close he is. How domestic this moment is. The two of us cleaning up after bath time like regular parents.
When the floor is dry, I stand. So does he.
“Thank you,” I say.
“It’s fine.”
“No, I mean…for helping. With them. You don’t have to.”
“They’re my children. Why wouldn’t I help?”
“Most men wouldn’t. Most men would consider bath time, train sets, and flower picking beneath them.”
“I’m not most men.”
“No. You’re not.”
He’s standing too close. I can smell his cologne. See the silver in his hair catching the bathroom light. Feel the heat coming off his body.
I step back. “I should get them to bed.”
“I’ll help.”
The twins’ bedtime routine is chaos on good nights. Tonight is a good night.
Mila wants three stories. Alexei wants his train tucked into bed with him. They both want water, and the nightlight on, and their doors open exactly four inches.
I handle Mila. Luca takes Alexei. I’m finishing the third story when I hear Luca’s voice through the wall. Low. Steady. Reading.
Mila is already asleep, clutching her stuffed rabbit. I kiss her forehead and pull the blanket up. Leave the nightlight on. The door open four inches exactly.
In the hallway, I pause outside Alexei’s room.
Luca sits on the edge of the bed. Alexei is tucked in with his train car on the pillow beside him. Luca holds a book I don’t recognize. Something about dragons.
His voice changes when he reads. Softer. Warmer. He does different voices for each character. Alexei’s eyes are heavy, but he fights sleep to hear the end.
I lean against the doorframe and watch.
Luca finishes the chapter and closes the book. “Tomorrow we’ll read the next part.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Even if you have work?”
“Even if I have work.”
Alexei considers this. “Okay.”
“Goodnight, Alexei.”
“Goodnight… Papa.”
