His expression softens enough to make my chest ache—and then he tears into the paper.
As a Rubik’s Cube drops into his hand, he lets out a triumphant cry. “No way!”
“Proceed with caution,” I mutter under my breath.
“I’ll play with it after we have breakfast.” He tucks it back into its box.
“Make sure you close the curtains,” I say, the memory of Vivan’s sister’s war-story already giving me the hives.
“Not sure why you’re worried about curtains, but I have some,” he says, holding up a finger slick with whipped cream, oblivious. “This is the best birthday ever. Like in the history of my having them.”
“Because you got to eat pancakes in bed and got a Rubik’s Cube?” I tease as I take a bite of my pancakes.
“Because it’s my real birthday and we’re going to a night game, which is already awesome.”
“Mmhmm,” I say, smiling, letting the sugar rush through my veins. In my opinion, birthdays run on frosting, but are layered with needed hits of adrenaline. I’ve learned to keep both stocked.
“It’s so cool I get to see Sawyerplay,” he continues, eyes going dreamy. “Like actually play, not just practice. With the crowd and the music and the smoke thing.”
“The smoke thing is very important,” I agree.
“And Dad’s going to be there,” he adds easily, like it’s already a fact etched into the universe. “Charlie and Vivian are coming, and I get to wear my hoodie—oh, I forgot to ask, can we get cotton candy and some french fries with chili and cheese?”
My heart swells. I watch him talk, hands waving, joy vibrating off him in visible waves. He’s so open. So hopeful. It fills me up, while also making me want to wrap him in bubble wrap at the same time.
He pauses mid-bite, suddenly thoughtful. “What time will I see Dad?”
My stomach dips, but I don’t let it show. I keep my voice light, steady. “He’s meeting us at the arena, remember?”
Theo nods immediately, completely satisfied. “Oh yeah! That’s right.”
He grins, wide and unguarded. “This is going to be the best birthday ever.”
I smile back, brushing a smear of chocolate from his cheek and praying he’s right.
Theo wipes his hands on the blanket and looks up again, eyes bright with another thought.
“Do you think we’ll see Sawyer before the game?” he asks. “Like when he’s walking in?”
“I don’t know,” I say easily. “Game days are busy. I think he’ll already be inside.”
Theo shrugs, unfazed. “That’s okay. We can see him after.”
Something in my chest loosens at how simple he makes it.
“It’s still really cool that he’s playing on my birthday,” he adds, grinning. “Like that feels special.”
“It is special,” I say, standing to gather the empty plate, carrying it into the kitchen. My eyes flick to my phone again.
Still nothing.
No texts.
No calls.
No checking in on his son’s birthday. No asking if he can talk to Theo, really quick. No confirmation at all.
I set the plate in the sink just as my phone lights up. I grab it and am immediately filled with a surge of happiness when I see Sawyer’s name.
