I swallow. “I know.”
When I hang up, my hands are steady, but my heart isn’t—and the day has barely started.
***
I’m at the school twenty minutes earlier than I need to be, and the parking lot is only half full. A couple of parents linger near their cars with takeaway coffees, chatting in low voices. The crossing guard leans against the signpost, checking her watch, and I sit behind the wheel and watch the gates.
Every car that turns into the lot makes my pulse jump, and every unfamiliar face on the pavement has my shoulders tightening before I can stop it. I tell myself she might not come back. Or maybe she got what she wanted this morning—just a quick glimpse.
The clock on the dash ticks over another minute, and my phone sits on the passenger seat.
No new messages from Evan, but I check it anyway. I glance up when a truck turns in too fast for the corner, and my breath catches before I even see the grille.
He’s here. Relief hits hard enough that I have to close my eyes for a second. Evan parks crooked across the line and doesn’t bother fixing it, then he’s out of his door before the engine’s properly cut. His station shirt is still on, still tucked into his duty pants, boots heavy against the asphalt as he crosses the lot.
When he spots me in the car, he comes straight to my door and opens it before I can.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
His eyes move over me quickly anyway, like he’s checking for something I wouldn’t necessarily tell him about. Then he nods once.
“Thank you,” he says, low enough that no one else hears it.
“For what?”
“Calling me. For not hesitating. I didn’t say it earlier, and I should’ve.”
There’s something tight in his voice, and it makes my chest squeeze.
I shrug. “Of course.”
His gaze darts briefly toward the school entrance before coming back to me. Constantly checking, constantly tracking. Then he leans in for a moment, as though he might kiss me, but instead holds out his hand to help me out.
His thumb gently brushes along the inside of my wrist, subtle enough that nobody else would notice. Just enough contact to anchor me. Or him. Probably both of us.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs.
When we get to the school doors, the afternoon crowd is thicker. And when the bell chimes, kids spill out in waves, laughter and shouting and backpacks thumping against legs. Teachers stand near the entrance, ticking names off lists.
Evan steps slightly ahead of me without meaning to, or maybe he does. His shoulders are squared, eyes scanning the perimeter in a way that makes me both ache and ease at the same time.
Elle bursts through the doors with two other girls, ponytail swinging.
“Daddy!” She spots him instantly, surprise lighting up her whole face. “You’re early!”
He drops to one knee so she can crash into him properly, hugging her tight enough that her sneakers lift briefly off the ground.
“Yeah, bug,” he says. “Thought I’d come get you with Penny today.”
“Okay.” She smiles easily at me, completely unbothered as Evan stands again, and takes hold of her hand. “Cora got glitter glue in her hair, and Mrs. Patel had to cut some out.”
We walk out with her between us, and she takes my hand too, her fingers warm and small in mine. Evan glances down at our hands, and some of the tightness in his face eases for half a second.
We’re almost through the gates when I see Stacey before Evan does. She’s leaning against the low brick wall just outside the school grounds, arms folded and watching.
Evan feels it a second later, because his hand tightens around Elle’s without him looking, and every line of him goes rigid.
