I glance at my watch for the tenth time in the past five minutes, letting out a deep sigh as I shift around in my chair. In three short minutes, it’ll be three o’clock.

“He’s not coming,” Meghan says.

She’s sitting to the right of me, an empty seat between us, reserved for a notably absent Jonathan. I’ve called him a dozen times in the past half hour, but all I get is his generic voicemail. The person you’re calling isn’t available.

I’ve left a few messages, telling him he better hurry, but I’ve heard nothing.

“He’ll be here,” I say. “He promised.”

“He better come,” my father says from his seat to my left. “If the boy knows what’s good for him.”

There’s a scoff from behind me, a familiar voice muttering, “If we’re counting on Cunningham using his brain, we’re probably going to be disappointed.”

I turn around, seeing Mrs. McKleski sitting there, knitting... yes, she’s knitting. I’m not even sure why she’s here. It’s an afterschool kindergarten presentation. My gaze scans the small auditorium, surprised by how many people have come to see a handful of little kids do a play about the weather.

Glancing back at Mrs. McKleski, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father invited me,” she says.

I look at my father, who shrugs. “It’s my granddaughter’s big day. I wanted people to know about it.”

“How many people did you invite?”

“Half the town,” Mrs. McKleski answers for him.

Shaking my head, I look at the time. 2:59.

I call Jonathan again. Voicemail.

The teacher comes out along the edge of the stage, in front of the big curtain, the moment the time changes, hitting three o’clock.

Sighing, I hang up without leaving a message, putting my phone away. There’s nothing more I can do. I hear the kids moving around behind the curtain, getting into place, and all I can think about is how crushed Maddie’s about to be when she realizes he hasn’t shown up yet.

The curtain opens, the play starting.

Maddie stands along the back of the stage, wearing her costume—white from head-to-toe, with a fluffy tutu and cutout cardboard snowflakes strapped to her back like wings.

She smiles excitedly, waving at us, but it doesn’t take long before she notices the glaringly vacant seat. My father is recording it, and I should tell him to stop, because I’m not sure her first broken heart is something any of us will want to relive, but I can’t get those words to form. I can’t bring myself to say it.

Can’t bring myself to believe it.

Despite everything, I still believe in him.

Maddie stands there, no longer smiling, her gaze scanning every face in the auditorium. She’s anxious, and every time she looks my way, I see her grow a little sadder. One-by-one, kids step forward to deliver lines. When it’s Maddie’s turn, she doesn't move.

There’s an awkward silence.

The teacher nudges Maddie, whispering something to her. Maddie takes a few steps forward, frowning. Another long pause.

She looks at me.

I want to rip her off the stage and hug her, make this all go away, but instead, I give her a smile, hoping maybe it’ll help her.

She smiles back.

Just as she’s about to speak, her mouth opening, there’s a loud noise at the back of the auditorium, the door bursting open. Maddie looks, her eyes growing wide as she screeches, “Daddy!”

Murmurs flow through the auditorium. People shift around in their seats. Maddie runs right off the stage, heading down the center aisle as fast as her legs can carry her.

I turn, more than a little alarmed that she’s running away, and freeze when I see him. Oh my god.

Jonathan stands there, head-to-toe in full Breezeo costume. He takes a few steps forward, scooping Maddie up. She hugs him, as he carries her back down the aisle, ignoring the looks everyone is casting him. Confusion. Shock. Disbelief. There’s some laughter, some excitement, even a bit of annoyance at the interruption. Me? I’m trying not to cry at the moment.

Jonathan deposits Maddie back on the stage before his gaze finds mine. He slips into the chair beside me, whispering, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Hey, guys!” Maddie announces, jumping right into her line. “What’s got six arms and is like nothing else in the whole world?”

A chorus of kids behind her say, “A snowflake!”

“That’s me!” Maddie says. “I’m falling and falling and falling. Where am I going?”

“Down to the ground,” the kids say.

She steps away, taking her place in the back, the play continuing like the disruption hadn’t happened. Maddie no longer pays attention to the play, staring at her father, fidgeting, grinning, like she’s just waiting for it to be over.

The teacher nudges her. She has to give the last line of the play. Maddie steps forward, and I see it as she blanks. She forgot her line. A second passes, and then another, before she shrugs.

“I gots a line here but I dunno,” she says. “So I’m improvising like my daddy says.”

People around us laugh.

Jonathan shakes his head.

The kids are supposed to line up and bow as the crowd cheers, but they have to do it without Maddie, because she’s running off the stage again. Jonathan stands up, catching her as she jumps off the side, not even bothering to use the steps this time.

My father stops recording then, shaking his head. “Never a dull moment with that kid.”

“I knew you’d come, Daddy!” Maddie says when he sets her on her feet. “Did I do good acting?”

“The best,” he says. “I’m sorry I missed the beginning.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs. “You didn’t need to see them other people, anyway.”

The play officially comes to an end as kids stream off of the stage, meeting their families out in the audience. It’s chaos then, unsurprisingly, as people swarm Jonathan.

My father takes Maddie’s hand, pulling her away from the center of it. “You did great, kiddo. I’m proud of you.”

“Did you record it?” she asks.

“Of course!"

“Can I watch?” she asks, jumping around. “I wanna see!”

He hands his phone to her, so she can see the video, as he steers her toward the exit. Meghan and I are right behind. Jonathan lingers for a moment longer before following, signing a few autographs along the way, before breaking from the crowd once we’re outside.

“Cunningham,” my father says. “Glad to see you.”

“You, too, sir,” he says. “Glad to be here.”

It’s all so cordial. It’s so much not them.

But I have to wonder, as they shake hands and my father bids us goodbye before leaving, if maybe I’m wrong about that. Maybe it’s them now, the doting grandfather and the dad that’s trying to be better, no longer adversaries in a political-turned-personal nightmare.

Their stories changed, too.

We head to the parking lot. Parked in front of the blue Porsche, not even in a proper spot, is a raggedy old station wagon, a familiar guy sitting on the hood. Jack.

“Did you make it?” Jack asks, munching on a small bag of potato chips.

“Just in time,” Jonathan says, smoothing Maddie’s hair. “She was about to deliver her lines when I ran in.”

“Good deal,” Jack says, eyeing Maddie. “So you’re the kid, huh? Heard a lot about you.”

“Who are you?” she asks, eyeing him back.

“Name’s Jack,” he says, holding his bag of chips out to her, offering one. “Chip?”

She stares at the bag for a second before glancing at Jonathan and whisper-shouting, “Is he a stranger? ‘Cuz then you gotta eat one in case it’s poison.”

“They’re safe,” Jonathan says. “Jack’s a friend.”

Maddie grabs a chip, smiling at him. “Are you best friends?”

Jack makes a face in protest. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Excuse me, I’m sorry,” Meghan interjects, motioning to her brother. “I hate to break up whatever this is, but why the hell are you wearing that? It’s weirding me out. Like… it’s weird.”

Jack looks at her in awe, like he’s just now noticing her presence. He holds his bag out toward her. “Chip?”

Meghan looks at him, scowling, and I think she might be about to hurt his feelings, but instead she reaches her hand in, plucking out a single chip and popping it in her mouth.

“We wrapped late,” Jonathan explains. “Didn’t have any time to go to wardrobe. Hell, I didn’t even grab my phone from my trailer.”

“So that’s why you didn’t answer when I called,” I say. “Thought you were avoiding me.”

Jonathan puts his arm around me, pulling me to him. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, whispering, “Never.”

“He literally ran off set,” Jack says with a laugh. “Weirdest shit I’ve ever seen, dude wearing tight ass spandex being chased by an angry man in a suit. It was so ridiculous, like a scene ripped straight from one of the stupid Breezeo movies.”

“Hey!” Maddie says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Don’t say that! Breezeo’s not stupid!”

“You tell him,” Jonathan says, nudging her.

“My bad,” Jack says, holding out the bag again, like a peace offering. “More chips?”

Maddie doesn’t hesitate, snatching an entire handful out, so many that some fall to the ground. Jack looks at her with shock before glancing in the bag, holding it upside down. Empty.

“You don’t deserve none,” she tells him. “Only if you like Breezeo can you have some.”

“Ah, that’s foul,” he says. “Does it count that I love the comic books?”

She considers that before handing him a single, broken chip.

He eats it, as Meghan stares at him, a peculiar look on her face. “So, Jack, how is it you know my brother? You weren’t, like, his coke dealer, were you?”

Jack’s eyes widen as he looks at her. “Your brother?”

“That’s my Aunt Meghan,” Maddie tells him, finishing the rest the chips.

“Meghan Cunningham,” Meghan says, holding her hand out as she introduces herself. “My brother doesn’t claim our family, so I’m not surprised he hasn’t mentioned me.”

Jack takes her hand. “Oh, he’s mentioned you. He just failed to tell me you were so goddamn beautiful.”

Meghan blinks at him, surprised, her cheeks turning pink when he kisses the back of her hand. Oh my god, she’s blushing.

“Well, uh, thank you,” she says, pulling her hand away.

“And I wasn’t his dealer,” Jack says. “Although, whoever was is probably filthy rich by now, so I sort of wish I was. But no, I help keep the jackass sober, which really is a thankless job.”

“I thank you all the time,” Jonathan says.

Jack waves him off. “Whatever, dude.”

“So, you’re a sober coach,” Meghan says.

“More like an intern,” he tells her. “I don’t get paid for it. Should, though. I mean, have you ever had to deal with the guy?”

Jonathan laughs. “You know I’m right here, right?”

“Impossible not to see you,” Jack says. “What, with you dressed like it’s Comic-Con.”

Meghan laughs, like she finds that hilarious. “Well, this has been a blast, but I should get going. Maddie, my cinnamon-strudel banana-bread, you were brilliant. Thanks for inviting me. I’ll see you guys later.” She turns, looking at Jack. “It was a pleasure. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

“You can count on it,” Jack says as she starts to walk away. He watches for a moment before turning to Jonathan, raising an eyebrow as he nods toward Meghan. “Might that be my reward?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Jonathan says.

“Not gonna think about it,” Jack says, hopping off the hood of the car. “I’m just gonna go for it.”

“Good luck,” I say, while Jonathan grumbles, glaring at Jack as he jogs to catch up to Meghan.

“What’s he doing?” Maddie asks, glancing at me.

“I think he’s going to ask your Aunt Meghan out.”

Her eyes widen. “Like on a date?”

“Yep,” I say.

“Oh, tell her she’s pretty!” Maddie yells, jumping around. “And bring flowers! Right, Daddy?”

“Right,” Jonathan says, although he doesn’t look as excited about the idea as Maddie does.

“Why don’t we leave them to it and head home?” I suggest.

“Home,” Jonathan says. “Sounds nice.”

* * *

The fresh blue notebook lays on the coffee table, the gel pen on top of it, the ink almost depleted because I’ve used it so much.

Jonathan pauses in front of it in the living room. “I see you got my gift.”

“Of course,” I say, slipping my arms around him from behind, resting my head against his back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, pulling me around into a hug.

He holds me, and I feel like I’m melting in his arms, the warmth swallowing me up. I could get used to it.

Get used to having him around.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, dreading his possible answer that being here is temporary. He brought nothing with him—no clothes, not even his phone. For all I know, he’s just passing through.

“I told you before I left,” he says. “I’m here for as long as I’m wanted.”

“That’s not a real answer, Jonathan.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because I’ve wanted you since I was seventeen years old. Saying that is like promising forever. I need a real answer.”

He’s quiet for a moment, resting his head on top of mine before he asks, “What’s wrong with forever?”

“Nothing,” I say, “as long as you mean it.”

“Would you believe me if I promised it?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s why I need you not to.”

He sighs, loosening his hold a bit to look at me. His eyes scan my face as a slight smile touches his lips. “I might’ve destroyed my career today.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“It’s a long story,” he says, “but I just can’t keep doing it.”

“But that’s your dream.”

“Dreams change,” he says. “The way I was living... I was miserable. I want my life back, and I’m taking it back, because I’ve wasted too much time. I’ll never give up on acting. It’s who I am. But it’s not all I am. I’m a father, and I want to be the man you thought I’d be. I’d be so much happier doing community theater, if it came to that, as long as I got to come home to you, than I ever was being Johnny Cunning without you. So if you want forever, goddamn it, I’ll be there.”

My heart, it hammers hard in my chest, viciously battering my ribcage. I want to say so much, but I don’t even know where to start. Guilt. Fear. Excitement. A whole swarm of butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Forever.”

He nods, whispering, “I promise.”

“Ta-da!” Maddie’s excited yell shatters the moment as she runs into the room, dressed in her Breezeo costume. We’ve been home ten minutes and she’s already abandoned the snowflake getup. “Look, Daddy! We’re the same!”

Jonathan laughs. “We are.”

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand and tugging on it, yanking him away from me. “We can play, ‘cuz you’re home now!”

Jonathan shoots me a conflicted look.

“Go on.” I wave him away. “Go have your fun without me.”

He manages to sneak a quick kiss before Maddie drags him to her bedroom. They play for hours, stopping only to grab sandwiches for dinner.

Darkness has fallen by the time Jonathan resurfaces, cornering me in the kitchen. He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my neck. I hum as tingles flow down my spine. “You done playing Breezeo now?”

“I’m just getting started,” he says, turning me around so I’m facing him. “Maddie’s asleep, so I think it’s your turn to have a little fun. I remember promising once that I’d do whatever I could for you to someday see me in this costume.”

My face grows warm. “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he says. “It’s the whole reason I auditioned.”

“You told me your manager talked you out of that.”

“He did, but I said fuck it. He told me I had no shot in hell, but you believed in me, so I went for it, and look at me now.”

I can hardly bring myself to look at him. It’s impossible to wrap my mind around. It’s like my wildest fantasy is converging with reality and my brain can’t handle it. How is this real? I run my hands along his broad chest, feeling the slick material. “Do you get to keep this?”

“Not supposed to,” he says. “They might even call the police because I took it.”

“Hmm, then we probably ought to make good use of it while we can, huh?”

“Probably ought to,” he agrees.

I squeal when he grabs ahold of me, lifting me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I cling to him as he staggers to the bedroom. He almost drops me twice, the material so slick I nearly lose my hold, and I laugh when we fall onto the bed, him landing right on top of me.

He kisses me, mouth eagerly exploring as he strips me out of my clothes, hands touching and caressing every inch of my body. His fingers, they explore, making me a writhing mess with just a few strokes.

“You’re going to have to unzip the suit,” he says. “I can’t do it myself.”

“Hmm, so what you’re saying is if I refuse, you’ll have no choice but to keep it on?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“So why would I help you?”

“Because I can’t fuck you with the suit on,” he says, “and I’ve got a funny feeling you really want to be fucked right now.”

Those words set my body on fire, tingles engulfing every inch of my skin. I reach behind him, tugging on the zipper, pulling it down as far as I can get it.

He strips out of it, and I watch him, trying not to laugh. It takes him damn near ten minutes of struggling before he climbs back into bed.

“Kind of killed the mood, huh?” he asks with a laugh. “Destroyed over a decade’s worth of fantasies in just a few minutes.”

“That takes some skill,” I say. “But maybe, if you’re good to me, I’ll forgive you.”

“I can do that,” he murmurs against my lips, on top of me, inside of me, ever so slowly pushing in. He makes love to me, giving me all of him, in no rush for it to be over.

All night long, again and again, he brings me to the edge, leaving me a sticky, trembling mess. Daylight is already trying to peak through, the sky outside starting to lighten. I lay here, staring at the ceiling. My muscles no longer care to work.

Jonathan’s still at it, going strong, his lips trailing along my stomach, going lower and lower and lower, as he strokes my inner thigh, the light touch making parts of me tingle. I don’t know how he does it. Just when I think I’m done, when I think I can’t take anymore. “Oh god.”

His mouth is on me, his face buried between my thighs. I grasp his hair, shifting my hips, unable to stay still. A minute, maybe two, before he’s got me seeing stars. I squeeze my eyes shut, crying out as pleasure flows through me in waves.

Once I relax again, breathing heavily, he kisses along my inner thigh before biting down gently. Laughing, I swat him away as I clamp my thighs closed. I don’t even have the energy to put up a real fight.

“You’re definitely forgiven,” I whisper. “That was… wow.”

Laughing, he collapses onto the bed. “Thank god, because I’m exhausted.”

“So am I,” I say. “I don’t even think I can make it to the shower.”

“Me, either. Hell, I don’t even have any clothes I can put on. Can’t call Jack to make him get my stuff since I don’t have my phone.”

“Hmm, well, I know one way you might get ahold of him,” I say, grabbing my phone from the bedside stand. “I’ll call your sister.”

Before I can even try to make the call, Jonathan snatches the phone from my hand and tosses it behind him, throwing it right on the floor. “I don’t even want to think about him being somewhere with my sister at this hour. I’d rather stay naked.”

I laugh, snuggling against him, pressing a light kiss to his chest. “I love you, Jonathan.”

“I love you, too.” He wraps his arms around me before whispering, “You’re the queen, baby.”