Page 174 of Pucking Daddy

We fall into the rhythm of it without thinking. I grab plates. He finishes the sandwiches. Lily narrates her entire life in between bites of air and anticipation.

At some point, I glance at the calendar on the fridge.

There’s a note scribbled there.

Lily – Mom visit (Saturday)

I pause for a second, looking at it.

Rachel has been… better.

More consistent. More present. Showing up when she says she will. Leaving when she’s supposed to.

She broke up with her venture capital fiancé shortly after the school incident, and it seems like she’s trying to get her life in order. She’s making an effort.

I think that day came from sheer desperation. She’s not the villain I turned her into in my head. But I haven’t forgiven her either.

We’ve found a way to exist in the same orbit without everything crashing into chaos.

We’re not friends, and we never will be. But we’re… cordial.

And for Lily, that’s enough.

“Do we have anything after school?” Lily asks, already halfway through her sandwich.

Jaxon wipes his hands on a towel. “You have reading.”

She groans. “I always have reading.”

“That’s because you like books,” I point out.

She narrows her eyes at me. “That doesn’t mean I like homework.”

Jaxon leans back against the counter, watching her with that look that still makes something in my chest twist.

Pride. Love. A kind of quiet awe he doesn’t try to hide.

He catches me looking at him and arches a brow.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I say, smiling.

He doesn’t buy it, but he lets it go.

“I’ll be home early today,” he says. “More voices from the staff reached management—they made it clear they expect a family-friendly workplace and a healthy work-life balance.”

Lily looks up from her plate, chewing thoughtfully. “Does that mean you’re not working later?”

“Exactly,” he says.

Her eyes light up instantly. “So you’re home-home? Not just like… quick-home and then back to work-home?”

Jaxon huffs out a quiet laugh. “I’m home-home.”

Lily straightens on her chair, excitement practically vibrating through her. “Can we do something then?”

“What kind of something?” he asks.