This must be his daughter.
I slow down without meaning to.
“I’ll be back Wednesday night, Maze,” Zayden is saying, his voice so soft I barely hear it over the plane noise. “That’s only three sleeps.”
“I know.” Her voice is small, tiny through the phone speaker. “But that’s a lot of sleeps.”
“I know it is. But Lily and Luke’s mom is taking good care of you, right?”
“I guess.” A pause. “She makes weird mac and cheese. It has green stuff in it.”
Zayden’s mouth twitches. “Green stuff?”
“I think it’s broccoli? I didn’t eat it.”
“Maze, you have to eat what she makes.”
“But it wasgreen, Daddy.”
“I hear you. But you still have to be polite, okay? She’s doing us a big favor.”
Maisie’s quiet for a second. Then, softer, “I don’t want Lily and Luke’s mom. I wantyou.”
My chest tightens. I should keep walking. This is private—a moment I have no business witnessing. But my feet won’t move.
Zayden’s whole face changes. The exhaustion is still there, but underneath it is something raw. Tender. The kind of love that doesn’t need words.
“I know, shadow,” he says. “I want to be there too. But I have to work, and—”
“I know.” She sounds resigned. Six years old and already resigned. “It’s okay, Daddy. I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” A pause. “Can you bring me something? From the trip?”
“What do you want?”
“Something good. You pick.”
“Deal.” He presses his hand against the screen, and she does the same on her end—their version of a goodbye hug, I realize. “I love you, Maze. Be good.”
“Love you too. Bye, Daddy.”
The screen goes dark.
Zayden sits there for a second, staring at his phone, and I see him take a slow breath. Composing himself. Putting the armor back on.
I slide back into my seat and stare out the window at the clouds below, trying to get my heart rate under control.
I don’t want Lily and Luke’s mom. I want you.
That was sweet.
I think about what Zayden told me in our session—six years of single parenting, no help, no partner, just him and a little girl who’s learned too young that people leave. I think about the way his voice went soft when he talked to her, the way his expression softened for her.
He’s not what I expected.
When I first saw his file, I thought I knew the type. Pro athlete, famous, probably the kind of guy who thinks the rules don’t apply to him, who’s never heard “no” from a woman and wouldn’t know what to do with it if he did.
