"Thanks, Tess," my daughter whispers.
Yeah… Thanks, Tess.
"Always," she says simply.
There's ruffling, and reality sends a panic through me as I dive toward the pantry. Ruthie can't know I was listening.
I throw the sliding door open and bury my head in the shelves as the crack in the bathroom door widens.
"Dad?" Ruthie asks, her eyes wide with nerves.
"There you are," I say nonchalantly, pulling out the tub of Cheese Balls. "I was just grabbing the snacks."
Her face settles, and I take that as a sign that my performance was convincing enough. "I'll take them," she says, leaping for the container. She throws her free arm around my waist and squeezes tight—tighter than usual.
"Thanks, Dad."
I force the lump in my throat back down as tears glaze my eyes. "Happy birthday, Roo."
She smiles up at me, my little girl again, then heads toward the stairs, snack in hand. I watch her go until she rounds the corner and the pitter-patter of her feet taps up each step.
"So… I'm guessing you heard all that?" Tess's voice calls me back as she finally leaves the bathroom, her expression knowing.
I stand straighter, placing my palm flat against the island, trying not to notice her hair—down again—slipping forward to frame her face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Her eyes are soft, but not pitying, and her lips curl just slightly.
"A little," I admit.
"Well, good." I raise my brows. "I think she needed to say it," she explains. "And you needed to hear it."
Her words are raw but real, and they hit me right in the ribs, making it even harder to breathe than it already is with her standing this close. With her looking like that.
"She's lucky." She takes half a casual step closer, and I silently beg her to do it again. "To have someone who shows up. Who listens." Her eyes meet mine honestly. "Who would do anything for her."
A nervous chuckle escapes me. "I don't always get it right."
She shakes her head, moving forward again and leaning her hip on the island. "It doesn't matter."
Something in me cracks, but it doesn't feel broken.
It feels like relief.
"Thank you, Tess," I finally say aloud.
She laughs softly. "You don't have to thank me… again. I care about her." I smile and she swallows. "I care about both of you."
I freeze.
Both—
Ruthie.
Me.
Unknowingly, I take a step, like I'm being pulled to her. Because I am.
It feels so natural that I barely notice until we're just a few feet apart. I stop myself before getting too close, but then she mimics me.
