"They are both important," Cade agrees. "What else?"
"I'm good at school. Really good at reading, pretty good at math. Not great at spelling, but Mom says I'm getting better." She pauses, then adds, "I'm on a soccer team. I play defense. And I take swimming lessons on Thursdays."
Cade is absorbing all of this, his eyes never leaving Ruby's face, like he's trying to memorize every detail. "Defense, huh? That means you're protective. Looking out for your team."
"Yeah! Coach says I'm fearless." Ruby grins, proud. "Last game, this really big girl from the other team was trying to get past me, and I totally blocked her. She was like, twice my size, but I didn't care."
"Fearless," Cade repeats, and his eyes cut to me. "Where does she get that from?"
"You," I say. "Definitely you."
He looks like he wants to argue, but Ruby is already moving on, a hundred questions bubbling up.
"What about you? What are you good at? Besides firefighting, I mean. Do you play sports? What kind of books do you read? Do you like soccer? What's your favorite food?"
Cade holds up a hand, laughing, and the sound hits me square in the chest because I haven't heard it in eight years. "One at a time, okay? Let's see. I'm good at fixing things. Cars, mostly. Sometimes appliances. I read a lot of thriller novels, the kind with spies and car chases. I don't play sports much anymore, but I used to play baseball in high school."
"Baseball!" Ruby perks up. "I've never played baseball. Is it fun?"
"Very fun. Maybe I could—" He stops himself, glancing at me for permission. "Maybe I could teach you sometime. If you want."
Ruby looks at me too, her eyes pleading, and I nod. "I think that would be nice."
"And my favorite food is pizza," Cade continues. "The kind with way too much cheese and pepperoni. What about you?"
"Tacos!" Ruby announces. "Mom makes the best tacos. We have taco Tuesday every week."
"Taco Tuesday sounds like a solid tradition."
They fall into an easier rhythm after that, Ruby asking questions and Cade answering them with increasing comfort. I watch them, barely touching my hot chocolate.
This is what I was afraid of. Watching them together, seeing how easily Ruby attaches to him, how much she looks like him, how right they seem together.
What happens when we go home? When this bubble bursts and reality crashes back in? When Ruby asks why her dad lives threehours away and I have to explain that it's complicated, that adults make mistakes, that sometimes love isn't enough?
"Sierra?"
Cade's voice pulls me back to the present. He's watching me, creasing his forehead, and I realize I've been staring into my hot chocolate for who knows how long.
"Sorry. Just thinking." I force a smile, take a sip of my drink. It's rich and sweet.
"Mom thinks a lot," Ruby stage-whispers to Cade. "Especially late at night. I hear her walking around sometimes."
Great. Now my seven-year-old is exposing my insomnia to my ex-boyfriend. Perfect.
"I think a lot too," Cade says, and there's understanding in his voice. "Especially at night."
Our eyes meet across Ruby's head, and I see it there: the acknowledgment that we're both carrying things, both dealing with demons we can't shake. His from the fire, mine from the choice I made to keep Ruby a secret.
"Do you have bad dreams?" Ruby asks Cade, her voice dropping to something softer, more serious. "I have bad dreams sometimes. Mom sits with me until I fall back asleep."
Cade's jaw tightens, and I know he's thinking about his own nightmares, the ones that had him waking up screaming when we were together. The ones that were part of why he left.
"Sometimes," he admits. "But they're better than they used to be."
"That's good." Ruby takes another enormous bite of croissant. "Mom says bad dreams can't hurt you. They're just your brain working through stuff."
"Your mom is very smart."
