And I mean it.
With everything I am.
CHAPTER 32
ALAINA
It starts with the dishes.
Which sounds stupid. I know.
But sometimes the way someone scrubs your old chipped bowl like it’s sacred instead of trash is enough to make your knees weak.
Troka’s standing at the sink, sleeves rolled, steam curling up his forearms, veins flexing like low-slung lightning beneath his skin. His head’s down, mouth set in that line he gets when he’s concentrating, and all I can think is:That’s mine.
Or maybe it could be.
His shoulders are still wet from Caelix’s bath splash attack. He didn’t even flinch when the kid dumped half a cup of soapy water down his spine. Just growled like a soggy wolf and then let Caelix giggle himself breathless.
I’ve never seen a man look more natural in a home he technically doesn’t belong to.
I lean against the doorframe and just… watch.
The lights are low. Baby’s down. The street outside hums with a low-frequency drone like the planet itself is holding its breath.
“You missed a spot,” I say, teasing.
He flicks suds at me without turning. “You want clean or shiny?”
“I want you to turn around and look at me.”
He pauses.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water trails from his fingers to the floor, and he turns slow, towel in hand, like he’s afraid the air might break between us.
“Something wrong?” he asks.
No.
Everything’s finallyright, and that’s the problem.
“I missed you,” I say.
The words hang there. Soft. Heavy. Measured.
He doesn’t smile.
Just steps forward.
“I’m right here,” he says, voice low. “You want me to leave?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
I take the towel from his hand.
