“I know.”
“She doesn’t deserve that,” I said. “Not someone half-in, half-closed off.”
Hunter didn’t interrupt this time.
“And Harper,” I added, voice rougher now. “I don’t get to screw that up. I don’t get to bring someone into her life and then take ‘em away again. Or risk her losing someone else.”
“Logan,” Hunter said carefully, “nobody’s saying you gotta promise forever.”
“Feels like I would,” I muttered.
I closed my eyes.
“She’s happy,” Hunter said again. “Your kid. That’s all that matters.”
Yeah, it did.
I stood there long after we hung up, phone still warm in my hand, staring out at the city like it might give me answers.
I told myself this was short-term; that Dani was just helping. That Harper was just enjoying having a new person around. That this weight I carried would ease once I was home and things went back to normal.
But before I could delve deeper into my thoughts, a coworker appeared from around the corner, breaking my internal monologue.
“Tough day?” he asked, glancing at the cityscape with a casual demeanor.
I shrugged, trying to mask the turmoil that had been whirling inside. “Just ready to get back home and get things back to normal,” I replied, forcing a lightness into my voice.
He nodded, giving me a knowing look. “I hear you. Still—sometimes change knocks some sense into a man.”
We shifted back to the job. The rest was left unsaid, hanging in the air like unfinished business.
???
Later that night, I sat on the edge of the hotel bed, boots kicked off, phone in my hand, while the air conditioner rattled on insistently. The rest of the day had been long and tedious. My head was full of procedures and perimeter plans and I could feel a dull ache in my temples, the tension coiling tight like a spring. It had been a while since I’d done this type of work, and there was a heavy throb of loneliness that sat alongside the missing ease of remote work.
I pulled up Harper’s name first, hoping her iPad was charged, since it rarely was.
The phone rang for a moment before Harper’s face filled the screen.
Her hair was pulled into a messy half-pony, curls sticking out in every direction, cheeks flushed like she’d been running wild instead of winding down. There was a smear of chocolate near her mouth that she definitely hadn’t noticed.
“Hey, bug,” I said, my voice softening automatically. “Did you have a good day today?”
She grinned, missing-tooth smile bright and unapologetic. “YES.”
I squinted at the screen. “Why do you sound like you’re up to no good?”
“Dani let me havetwoscoops of ice cream,” she announced, holding up two fingers for emphasis.
I frowned. “That’s one too many.”
She leaned closer to the camera, eyes wide and serious. “I brushed my teethsupergood.”
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. My chest tightened in an unfamiliar way, the ache of missing her mingling with the relief of seeing her happy.
“I’ll allow it,” I said after a beat. “You ready for school tomorrow?”
She nodded, curls bouncing. “Yes.” Then her smile faltered just a little, and she blinked as if warding off a yawn. “Will you be home after that?”
