Chapter 21
I don't remember falling asleep.
Which is unusual for me.
I usually don't let myself drift off anywhere I'm not fully in control of the environment. Years of training does that to you—half-alert even when you're resting.
But tonight is different.
Chloe is tucked against my side, breathing slow and even, like she finally stopped fighting her own exhaustion.
Her head is on my shoulder.
Her hand is curled loosely against my shirt like she forgot she was holding on at some point and just... stayed there.
The TV is still on.
Some show neither of us has been watching for at least an hour.
Ava is asleep in her crib.
The apartment is quiet in that rare, fragile way that only happens when nothing is actively going wrong.
And I realise I haven't felt tense in hours.
That should bother me.
It doesn't.
Chloe shifts slightly in her sleep, pressing closer without waking properly.
Instinct kicks in immediately.
My arm tightens around her—not thinking, just reacting—keeping her steady against me so she doesn't slip off the couch.
She settles again instantly.
Like she trusts it.
That part lands heavier than it should.
I stare at the TV for a while, but I'm not really seeing it.
My mind keeps circling the same thing.
The kiss.
The second one especially.
The way she didn't hesitate.
The way I didn't either.
I've been in situations where hesitation means everything, where a second of uncertainty changes outcomes.
This wasn't like that.
This was a decision without noise.
I glance down at her.
Her face is relaxed in sleep in a way I haven't seen before. No tension in her jaw. No guardedness in her expression.
Just... Chloe.
Not bracing.
Not waiting.
It hits me then how rare that is for her.
For both of them.
Ava makes a small sound from the crib, and I automatically shift my attention toward her.
She's fine.
Just stirring.
She settles again without waking fully.
I look back at Chloe.
Still asleep.
Still safe.
My arm tightens slightly around her again without meaning to.
And that's when I realise something I don't have a neat way to think about yet.
I don't want to move.
Not because I can't.
Because I don't see a reason to.
Minutes pass like that.
TV noise fading into the background, nothing.
Chloe's breathing steady against me.
Ava quiet.
The apartment holding still for once.
Eventually, I lean forward just enough to grab the remote and turn the volume down without disturbing her.
She barely reacts.
Just shifts closer into my side like she's following warmth in her sleep.
I exhale slowly through my nose.
Yeah.
That's not helping.
I should go.
That thought shows up late and half-hearted.
Because I already know I'm not going to act on it.
Instead, I stay where I am.
My hand rests lightly at Chloe's shoulder, steadying her more than holding her.
Her fingers twitch slightly against my shirt, then relax again.
I watch her for a long time without meaning to.
And I think about how quickly this changed.
Not in some dramatic way.
No single line I can point to where everything shifted.
Just... moments stacking.
Her trusting me with Ava.
Me showing up more often than I meant to.
Her starting to sleep better when I'm around.
Me noticing.
Always noticing.
Chloe shifts again, this time more noticeably, like she's starting to wake.
Her eyes flutter open slowly.
She looks disoriented for a second.
Then she realises where she is.
Her head on my shoulder.
My arm around her.
Me still here.
Her expression changes instantly—small shock, then something softer when she realises I'm not moving away.
"I fell asleep," she mumbles.
"Yeah," I say quietly.
She doesn't move immediately.
Neither do I.
That feels important for some reason.
Her eyes flick up to mine.
Still half-asleep.
Less guarded than usual.
"...You stayed," she says.
Like she isn't quite sure she expected that.
"Yeah," I repeat.
A pause.
Ava makes a soft sound from the crib.
Chloe tenses slightly out of habit, but doesn't move away from me.
That's new.
I notice it immediately.
"She's fine," I say again.
Chloe nods slowly.
Then leans back into my shoulder like she forgot she had permission not to be on alert all the time.
That might be the most significant thing that's happened tonight.
I shift slightly so she's more comfortable, not thinking about it too hard.
But I don't let her go.
And she doesn't ask me to.
The TV keeps playing.
Neither of us really watches it.
And for a while longer, we stay like that.
Like it's normal.
Like it's always been like this.
And I realise, somewhere in the quiet of it—
I'm not thinking about leaving anymore.