Page 114 of Reeves

"Because whether I'm here or deployed somewhere, he's still my responsibility. And you shouldn't be carrying that alone."

"I chose to carry it alone."

The honesty hangs between us. It's raw and uncomfortable, but necessary.

Charli runs her fingers along the edge of the table. That nervous habit again.

"This isn't guilt money, if that's what you're thinking."

Her eyes snap back to mine. "Isn't it?"

"No."

"I don't want your money to be some kind of transaction. Like paying for access to him."

"I already said this is not connected to whatever my relationshipwith him looks like." I lean forward, meeting her gaze directly. "It's me trying to do the right thing at least with one thing connected to this."

She doesn't respond immediately, watching me with those hazel eyes, weighing my words against ten years of history, six of which have been apart. Then, she looks out at the dark yard through the large square window behind the kitchen table.

I contemplate saying more, or letting that be enough for now. I have every intention of paying her five years-worth of back child support, and then supporting them going forward. There's no need to hammer that if it makes her uncomfortable.

She only needs to know that even if I can't be here for him as a father, as that is yet to be seen, I fully intend to do right by them both financially.

The night sounds fill the space between us. Crickets and distant traffic travel in through the still-open back door.

"This doesn't change anything else. Between us, I mean. And I still want to know what the plan is after you leave."

"I understand. And I don't expect it to."

She nods slowly. "Okay."

"Thank you."

The tension shifts, but it doesn’t disappear. We’ve found something we can stand on for now, even if everything else is still up in the air.

I can't forget that the real conversation is still waiting to happen.My plan. Our plan.

She disappears down the hallway and returns with a folded navy blue blanket and a set of crisp white sheets.

"This should be comfortable enough."

She sets the blanket at one end of the couch and unfolds the sheet with quick, efficient movements. Her hands smooth the fabric once, twice, before she steps back.

"Oh, and a pillow. I'll bring one back for you. Can I get you anything else? A toothbrush? I know you didn't plan to be here."

"Actually, if you have a spare toothbrush, that would be amazing. And some ibuprofen? My shoulder is aching."

"Of course. Bathroom's down the hall. A spare toothbrush is on the counter, and there is some Advil in the medicine cabinet. There are also towels under the sink. Also, help yourself to anything in the kitchen."

"Thanks."

She stands there for a moment with her hands in her pockets, like she wants to say more. Her eyes search my face in the dim light.

I can't help but wonder what she's thinking. Whatever it is, she keeps it to herself.

"I'm actually going to take a bath, so please make yourself at home."

Home.