“How are you?” I step up and set the tool box down, pulling the shop cloth out of my back pocket and wiping off my hands.

He’s quiet and takes a deep breath. Finally, he raises his blue eyes to me. “Got a beer?”

I nod gently and lead the way back inside and into the kitchen. The air conditioning hits me, cooling the sweat on my back, and my nerves make it hard to breathe, but I’m not as nervous as I thought I’d be when this moment came. He’s not yelling yet, so that’s a good sign.

I pop the tops of two Coronas, the late afternoon sunlight vanishing from the kitchen table as it dips behind some clouds.

He takes a seat, and I do the same. When he remains quiet, though, I realize the ball’s in my court.

“So, are you happy?” I ask him. “In the military?”

I’ve had time to get used to the idea, especially after getting assurances from his recruiter, but I need to hear it from him.

“Yeah.” He sets his beer on the table, keeping his fist wrapped around it. “I don’t know—I guess it’s what I needed. To be torn down and rebuilt better.”

I wait for him to go on.

“I can’t sleep in,” he says, “I can’t show up drunk, I can’t call in sick because I’m feeling lazy that day…. It sucks, but I’ve also got a job and money in the bank. A career. That feels pretty good.” He finally raises his eyes to me. “I’ve got a future, and for someone who never knew where the fuck their place was in the world, it’s kind of nice to let the military decide for you and give you direction.”

“You sure?” I lift the bottle, taking a drink.

I love that he’s doing something with himself, but I also want to make sure he’s carving his own path.

He goes on. “That’s where Jordan and I never made sense. She knew her own mind, and I resented myself when I was with her, because I never did.” He releases a sigh. “I wasn’t her equal, never good enough for her. I would never be that strong-minded. Some of us just aren’t.”

My heart skips a beat at the sound of her name again, but I ignore it. I’m not confident that joining the military was really what he wanted to do with his life, but I am sure he wasn’t finding answers in this town. At least he knew that much.

He was strong-minded enough to take that leap.

“You did this, didn’t you?” I ask. “You made it through training. I’m proud of you.”

I see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and the muscles in his jaw flex. He takes another drink, still not looking at me.

“So, where is she?” he asks, casting looks behind him to the living room like she’s still in the house.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “She left after you did. I haven’t seen her in two months.”

His gaze snaps to mine, his brows furrowing in concern.

“I’ve talked to her sister,” I assure him. “She’s fine. Wherever she is.”

He seems to accept that answer, because he takes another swig. But now I’m a little more unnerved than I was a moment ago. It’s clear she hasn’t kept in touch with Cole, either. Not that I thought they would stay in contact after everything, but they were friends. Lifelines to each other at one point. The more ties she cuts, the less reasons she’ll have to come back.

“You seeing anyone else?” he asks.

“Nah, not right now.” I take another drink. “Just concentrating on the house and the business.”

“Yeah, I ran into Dutch on my way into town, and he told me you guys are like two years ahead of schedule.”

I chuckle. “Not that much…”

Although, we’re doing damn well. You can get a lot of work done when you’re not racing home every day to a woman who sets your body on fire.

“So, did she break it off with you or you with her?” Cole asks, bringing up Jordan again.

I stare at him. I don’t want to talk about this. I just want him to be okay. I want him to talk about anything else with me.

But mostly, because I’m not proud of my answer. If Jordan hadn’t left, I would’ve kept her as long as she was willing to stay. I should’ve given her up for him, and I didn’t. And I’m not sure I would’ve if she had left the choice up to me.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him instead. “You’ll never know how sorry I am.”

His eyes are locked on mine, a flood of emotions I’m not sure I want to face crossing his gaze. Pain, disappointment, confusion, loneliness…. But also calmness, resolution, and acceptance.

“When I saw you at graduation yesterday, I wanted to still be mad at you,” he says. “And I was aggravated that I wasn’t.”

He drops his eyes, the wheels turning in his head.

“There’s something to be said about time and distance, I guess.” He gives a sad smile. “You get a lot of perspective. A lot of time to think about things.”

Yeah.

“When I was six,” he goes on, “you lost a contract because you came to my Little League game that day instead. On my tenth birthday, you moved my party and paid for everyone to go to the go-cart place, because Mom and one of her boyfriends started fighting at the house and embarrassing the hell out of me in front of everyone. When I graduated high school, you took out a second mortgage to pay for my college which I just pissed down the drain.”

My throat swells. He remembers all that?

“Doing what you could to make me happy, no matter the sacrifice, never seemed like a tough decision for you.” He peers over at me, his voice thick with emotion. “So, I think, doing something you knew could hurt me, was definitely not an easy choice,” he says. “I know you love me.”

I grind my teeth together to keep my breathing even, and relief washes over me.

“I don’t know how okay I am with all this, but…” He nods. “I know you love me.”

I’m speechless. It’s a little heartbreaking to look at your son and wonder if you had anything to do with how good he turned out. I can’t believe he’s sitting here right now when I wasn’t sure he’d ever look at me again.

“Do you still love her?” he asks.

I hesitate a moment, searching for the words. Yes, I still love her, but… “She’s better off,” I tell him.

He leaves it there, not pressing further. “I have to be back tomorrow night. Is it okay if I stay the night?”

“Of course.”

He rises, carrying his beer toward the living room with him. “The Twins are playing the Cubs tonight,” he says. “You want to watch?”

I inhale a deep breath and release it, feeling like my body is relaxing for the first time in months. “Sounds good. I’ll order some pizza.”

“Cheese,” he specifies.

I laugh quietly. “Yeah, I remember.”

I take my phone out of my pocket and start to dial Joe’s, but then I hear his voice.

“And Dad?” he says.

I look up.

“I love you,” he tells me. “But no one’s better off without you.”

That night, I wake up to thunder rolling somewhere in the distance. I don’t open my eyes, the weight of too many long days at the job site heavy on my lids. I turn on my side, knowing I’ll fall back asleep if I give it a minute.

The inside of my right arm burns with the tattoo I got earlier tonight. Cole and I decided to go to Rockford after the pizza and get those tattoos he mentioned. He chose an anchor in the middle of his back, accompanied by a compass and a fisherman’s knot with the motto “Forged by the Sea” around it. It’s all just outlined, though. He said he’ll get it colored in after he’s earned it.

I’m guessing that means after his first six months at sea.

The candle etched on my skin feels like it’s actually lit, the smoke from the wick drifting up the inside of my arm all the way to my elbow. I’ve known since Cole first mentioned tattoos two months ago that something that represents Jordan was the only thing I wanted on me for the rest of my life. The birthday girl and her wishes. She’ll always be a part of me.

I inhale a long breath, and even though I’ve washed the sheets several times since she left, I can still smell her hair on the pillows.

And if I concentrate hard enough and keep my eyes closed, she’s there next to me.

I snake an arm around her body, and pull her into me, burying my nose in her cool hair.

“Was I snoring?” she whispers.

I smile, trying not to laugh. “No.”

She’s so self-conscious, and it’s adorable. I hug her to me, feeling so filled, because everything I need is in my arms right now. Her curves fit every inch of mine, and I’m whole. My chest fills with something almost too much to contain.

She breathes calmly, and I run my hand over her naked stomach, my body coming alive for her. So easily, like it always does.

Suddenly, her small voice pierces the quiet room again.

“You got me pregnant,” she whispers.

I still. What did she say?

No, that can’t be right. We’ve been careful.

When I don’t say anything, she turns around and faces me, her guarded eyes on mine. “I missed my period last week,” she says timidly. “I took a few tests earlier today. Best I can figure is I’m about a month along.”

I close my eyes. Oh, my God. A baby?

My baby.

“I hope she has my eyes,” she tells me.

I open mine. “Your eyes?”

“Well, she’ll be a mix of both of us, after all,” she explains, “and I want her to have your smile. It evens out, right?”

I touch her face. “You’re sure? There’s a baby?”

She nods. “I’m sure.” She looks at me warily and asks, “Is that okay?”

I open my mouth, no words coming out. A baby? I picture myself waking up with an infant in the middle of the night, car seats, and cartoons, and I’m overwhelmed, but strangely, I feel...so fucking in love with her and the idea of her body growing with my kid.