And this time, I mean it.
CHAPTER 44
NOVA
There’s a softness to this quiet I’ve never felt before.
I’m not in containment. Not in a lab. Not strapped to a pod with the hum of death in my ears.
I’m in a bed.
Kaz’s bed.
The sheets smell like soap and warm skin and a faint hint of that old paint thinner he never really managed to get out of his flight jacket.
And I’m not alone.
Kaz is next to me. Legs tucked under him, back braced against the headboard. His voice low and steady.
He’s holding Dar.
My son—ourson—is curled up in his arms, small fists clutching the edge of Kaz’s shirt. And Kaz is telling him a story.
No voices. No sound effects.
Just soft words, wrapped in gravel and patience.
“…and then, just when the rocket thought it was gonna fall, a tether shot out from the satellite and caught it—held it steady, even in the storm.”
Dar blinks up at him. “Like a hug?”
Kaz smiles. “Exactly like a hug.”
My heart gives out a little.
I don’t move. Don’t breathe too loud.
Because I don’t want this to stop. Not yet.
It’s too pure. Tooreal.
After everything—after Stark, after the fight, after being sealed in that damn pod—I thought the world would feel wrong again. Like waking up from a dream too good to be true.
But here, now, in this bed… it feels like a beginning.
Kaz finally looks up.
His eyes meet mine.
And gods, they’re soft. Like ocean light filtered through ash. Worn down. Full of too much.
But not angry.
He shifts Dar gently, laying him down between us. Dar’s already asleep, one tiny hand curled around the toy ship still clutched in his palm.
I reach out, run my fingers over the boy’s hair.
“You didn’t have to stay,” I whisper.
