Page 43

S loane was finally past the worst of her nausea, looking more herself again, more human. Meanwhile, I juggled virtual classes with the kids and stayed glued to the news, watching the world unravel by the hour. Cities were locking down. Hospitals were flooding. People were scared and so was I.

The next few days were hell for me as I struggle to maintain a sense of normalcy with my family.

That afternoon the weather was too nice to ignore, so I fired up the grill.

Steaks hissed over the flames while Rufus lounged on the deck, his head tilted toward the sun.

The kids shrieked and laughed in the backyard, running wild through the sprinklers.

It was a brief, precious break from the hum of online school and the weight of the world.

Sloane stepped out onto the porch, shielding her eyes from the light. She inhaled, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Smells amazing,” she said, walking over. “Too bad I still can’t really stomach it. ”

She looked beautiful, hair pinned up, a touch of makeup, dressed in a way that made me ache inside. A pit formed in my stomach before she even spoke again.

“I was going to go out for a bit,” she added, her tone casual, like it didn’t carry a thousand pounds of implication. “You okay to stay with the kids?”

I nodded. “You know they’re still asking people to stay home, right?”

She shrugged, half-apologetic. “I wanted to walk in the park. Charlie’s meeting me there and we’ll keep our distance from others. We'll be safe.”

The tension between us grew taut like the slow draw of a bowstring. She was going on a date. I had promised I’d be understanding and I meant it… even if it hurt.

“Okay,” I said, voice even. “Can you… text me when you’re on your way back?”

She smiled and nodded, but it didn’t settle the unease gnawing at me.

“Mommy, you look so pretty!” Violet came barreling toward us, dripping wet, hair stuck to her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her mom’s waist, admiring her styled hair and pink-tinted lips.

Sloane laughed, hugging her back. “Thanks, Violet.”

She waved to Liam who was crouched at the edge of the yard, refilling a water gun. He gave a nod and shouted, "You look nice Mom."

"Thanks, kids. I'll be back. Listen to your father." And then she was gone. The door shut behind her, and I was left with unease crawling under my skin, refusing to quiet.

I spent the afternoon trying to focus on the kids. We ate out on the deck, and when evening rolled around, they showered and curled up for a movie. I’d baked a new batch of gluten-free brownies, this time using sweet potatoes instead of that awful black bean recipe I'd tried before.

Violet took one bite, grimaced dramatically, and slathered it with hot fudge. “Needs more sugar!” she declared, giggling like mad as she added a tower of whipped cream.

Liam hovered nearby, eyeing the brownies like they might bite back. “So... they’re bad?”

Violet made a noncommittal shrug. “Hmmm… they’re okay." She turned to me, "Wanna build another base or castle later, Daddy?”

I laughed as I started on washing the dishes. "Absolutely, baby girl. I have this idea for an automated chicken egg collection assembly line."

Her face lit up, "Oh that sounds awesome!" Then she ran off, sugar tower in tow.

And if I'm lucky, we'll bump into a new friend.

I had still been on the hunt for my monster: Prince_Harming. He was out there, somewhere, lurking in the anonymous darkness of the internet. It was only a matter of time before he attempted to make contact with Violet in this life, and I was going to be waiting there when he did.

“You okay, Dad?” Liam asked. His tone was thoughtful and too grown for his years.

He'd been watching me scrub dishes and plot a murder, and I had no idea what expression was on my face.

I'm fine, boy. Just torn between strangling or stabbing your sister's kidnapper.

“Yeah, bud," I said with a nod. "Just happy to be home.”

And that was not a lie. Despite the fucked up state of the world, the looming threat of Angie, Charlie being a thorn in my plans… I was ha ppy. Being there, being with them, that part never stopped feeling like a gift. He gave me a small smile and returned to the couch.

Time crawled.

When Sloane finally came home after texting me she was on her way, night had already settled. She walked in, looking tired but peaceful in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. She helped tuck the kids in, humming under her breath as she moved through the motions.

“We grabbed takeout and watched the sunset,” she told me later, leaning against the counter, her voice dreamy. “It was nice.”

Simple. Romantic. Thoughtful.

Fuck, why hadn’t I thought of something like that?

I knew corporations and businesses were willing to stay open during this turbulent time and could have tried ordering us something one night.

She reached for a brownie, took a bite, her expression twisting as she thoughtfully chewed. “Maybe more honey next time?”

“You can say they suck,” I muttered, half-laughing.

She smiled, licking a crumb off her thumb. “No. I appreciate that you try. Especially the gluten-free thing. It means a lot.”

“Of course. It's important for you and Violet and since I’m not eating gluten either…” I trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. We both knew why I was being careful. Those stolen kisses. The lingering closeness.

I rubbed the back of my neck, heart hammering. “Sloane?”

She looked up. “Yeah?”

I stepped toward her and my voice caught on the jagged edges of my fragile confidence. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us… about everything. I know I screwed up and I know I put you through hell but I was wondering... would you be willing to try virtual marriage counseling? ”

I was taking a shot because I felt like I was going to lose her if I didn't.

She froze in that quiet way she does when she’s deciding how much of herself she can safely show me.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” I continued. “Not to promise anything. I... I want to talk. I want to work on this. Even if we don’t know where it’s going yet.”

She looked away, biting her lip. “I don’t know, Levi.”

“I get it,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t even have to be marriage counseling right away. There's individual therapy as well. After everything we’ve been through, your anxiety, the shutdown, the stress… maybe it would help to talk to someone. You deserve that support.”

The hesitation lingered but then she nodded, slow and cautious. “It’s not a bad idea.”

Relief surged through me, almost dizzying.

“I actually researched a few therapists,” I said, grabbing my phone. “I can send you a list with reviews. You can pick whoever feels right. This one has great reviews and has been practicing for twenty years, but this one could do in-person sessions if you are masked, and this on-"

She touched my arm and I stopped rambling.

“You can send it, Levi,” she said gently. Then she kissed my cheek, and I felt it all the way down to my toes. “Thank you. For handling the kids, the house, and for thinking of this. Even if it’s not something I wanted to admit we might need.”

I pulled her close, burying my face against her neck. “Anything for you. Anything to help with your mental load. I mean that.”

When I pulled back, I looked into her eyes and saw all the pain…

all the history and hope too. Despite the date she had with Charlie, she was here with me in that moment.

I searched the deep hazel of her eyes, ad miring the golden flecks as I cupped her face.

She leaned into me and I felt her body sigh.

Despite how much I wanted her to be free, to make her choices and find out what she wanted, I was terrified of losing her. As we watched each other, I think she knew. I could see it in the way she looked at me, and I poured every ounce of love in my hands, my eyes, my body towards her.

Delicately, she kissed my palm and I leaned down to kiss her softly, hovering long enough to let her change her mind.

She's the one who gets to choose, big guy.

Instead, she leaned in and we melted into each other, clinging onto each other like survivors. I lifted her gently onto the counter, my lips trailing along her neck, toward the edge of her blouse, where her breath began to catch.

Her legs parted instinctively as I stepped between them, her knees brushing my hips. I was careful with my hands, tentative, reverent, as I touched her thighs, trailing my palms upward as I reacquainted myself with her sacred heat.

She didn’t stop me, the open invitation a balm to my existence.

My mouth found hers again, slower this time, deeper. Her hands moved to my hair, fingertips curling, holding me there like she needed the closeness as badly as I did.

The tension that had stretched between us for months, the uncertainty, melted into the heat building in our shared breaths, building on the previous connections we had allowed ourselves to share. It didn’t erase what we’d been through, didn’t make things whole, but it was real.

It was everything .

I slid my hands under her blouse, feeling the warmth of her skin, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Her breath caught when my thumbs grazed beneath the lace edge of her bra.

“Sloane…” I whispered against her mouth, asking her silently with every inch I crossed.

She responded with a kiss that was all tongue and emotion, pulling me closer by the front of my shirt, anchoring me to her. I didn’t need more permission than that.

I kissed down her throat, pausing at her collarbone, letting myself feel the way her body responded, tense at first, then gradually giving in. I paid attention to her breathing, ignoring the strain of my cock, balls so tight I felt like I would come any moment.