No heat this time.
Only affection offered without a name.
Later, after medication and the slow work of getting ready for bed, Noah fell asleep before I finished cleaning the kitchen.
I sat at the dining table with my laptop and paid what bills I could.
The supplier shipment was secure.
The Harbor Transit deposit would arrive after the first two vessels passed inspection.
The mortgage remained covered.
The business was wounded, not dying.
That distinction should have brought peace.
Instead, I stared at the bedroom doorway.
At midnight, I closed the computer.
Noah stirred while I stood in the hall deciding whether to join him.
He sat up sharply.
“Reid?”
I crossed the room.
“I’m here.”
His hand searched the empty side of the bed.
“Stay.”
“I will.”
I changed quickly and climbed beside him.
Noah moved into my arms before I settled.
His head found my chest.
His right leg slid across mine.
I held him carefully, though the shape of us had begun to feel less fragile.
“You all right?” I whispered.
“Mmm.”
“Nightmare?”
“Don’t know.”
His voice was almost asleep.
“Just knew you weren’t here.”
