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Theo grins mischievously and for a split second I see a younger Simon, full of mischief and humor.
I reach for my drink, still very aware of Simon sitting at my kitchen table, and of the normalcy of it all. The life I use to dream about having.
“Thank you for bringing dinner,” I say after a second.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Figured it would make things easier since I was late bringing him back.”
“Thanks. I had no clue what I was going to make tonight,” I say, letting out a small laugh.
“How was work?” Simon asks to keep things from going quiet again.
“It was good,” I say. “First quarter reports are coming up, so all the kids are suddenly very motivated to turn in all their missing assignments.”
He nods. “Funny how that works.”
“Yeah. Amazing what a deadline can do.”
The rest of dinner is easy. Theo does most of the talking and Simon and I trade looks over his head when he says something particularly ridiculous. Afterwards, Simon helps without being asked.
He gathers the plates, rinses them, stacks them in the sink, and wipes down the table while I pack up the leftovers. Theo chatters the whole time, mostly to Simon, following him from the sink to the trash can and back again.
“Daddy, can you stay?” he asks.
Simon pauses for half a second before answering. “Not tonight, buddy.”
Theo frowns but nods, accepting it quicker than I expect. “Okay.”
When everything’s cleaned up, Simon crouches down in front of him. “Come here.”
Theo steps into him immediately and Simon pulls him into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
“I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”
“Okay,” Theo says, arms still looped around his neck.
“Be good for Mama.”
“I am good,” Theo insists.
Simon huffs a quiet laugh. “Be extra good.” He stands and looks over at me.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say with a soft smile.
“Of course.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. He hesitates just slightly, like he might say something else, but then he doesn’t. He just gives a small nod and heads for the door.
I watch his back as he leaves, my heart caught in my throat.
“Come on, baby,” I say, reaching for Theo’s hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Chapter seven
Simon
“You coming out with us tonight?” Maddox asks from his locker, methodically packing his gear away like he always does.
Maddox is built like he was designed for the job—broad shoulders, solid muscle, always put together. Dark hair cut clean, beard trimmed. He’s the type that follows protocol without being a pain about it. Reliable. Level-headed. Annoyingly reasonable most of the time.
“I don’t kn—” I start.
