And… she’s late. It’s 10 a.m., I’m parked at the edge of Franklin Playground, and Savannah’s officially late.

She usually is, but today it’s annoying me more than it should. I have the urge to step out from the car and pace while I wait, but turning into some guy wandering aimlessly by a playground is probably worse than forcing myself to sit still.

I take a breath, glance at the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat and scold myself for becoming frustrated.

I’m here for Grayson. And I would drive to the end of the map for that kid.

I relax my hands on the steering wheel. Savannah’s not the real reason I’m agitated anyway. It’s Sophia.

It’s this curse that follows me in everything I do.

She’s fucking incredible. And she’s a cop.

Of course.

Why can’t she be an accountant? Or a doctor, or teacher, or anything else?

No—she works one of the only jobs that directly risks everything I do. And how fucked is that? She’s everything I could ask for, yet our lives couldn’t be more incompatible.

My life has always been empty, but I’ve never felt this caged by the void in my chest. The same void that I considered normal, until I met Sophia.

Yesterday was amazing. She’s amazing. But this is everything I’ve tried to avoid.

And as hard as it was, the only thing I could think to do was scribble a note before I left.

Short, blunt, and painful as hell to write.

I lean my head back and rub out the stiff tension in my forehead. It hurt, but it was the choice I had to make. We can’t afford to see each other again. And now it’s back to a life of stressful pressure, of looking over my shoulder, of exhausting everyday just to pass time under the radar. Of emptiness.

This is my fault. I didn’t break my rule, but I might as well have. This is worse.

This is like touching your tongue to a frozen pole when you know that it’ll hurt like hell to rip it off.

Actually, it’s even worse. Pole’s don’t have emotions, Sophia does. And I didn’t do them any favors. Not when she has to wake up to a note like that after having such a good time all evening before. It was selfish and stupid and everything in between. And if Owen or Cliff were to find out…

I don’t even notice when a maroon Civic pulls into the spot to my left. I’m gaping out the window and staring blankly at the playground when Savannah emerges in the corner of my eye. Her tapping on the window shakes me out of a trance.

I open the door and chilly morning air greets me before Savannah’s warm body embraces me in a hug. She asks if I’m okay and I muster a poorly faked yes as I go to open the back door of the Civic.

Grayson’s wide-open mouth and several tiny stray teeth beam up at me. He’s flapping his arms like little wings, his infant body confined in an oversized car seat. It’s a sight that floods me with supreme happiness.

“Hey buddy,” I coo, unbuckling his straps. I pick him up and my cheeks coil in a giddy smile. “How you doin’, huh?” I sit him in my arms and ruffle his thin wispy hair.

His eyes are so big and round that they fill his face. They’re like two bright green marbles gleaming with a glow of new life.

The same color my brother’s were.

I puff out my cheeks and blow air between my lips, then tickle his belly when he spouts in laughter. The sound is music to my ears.

These are the moments when everything pauses and there’s no frustration, no stress, no next job. Nothing but my godson and me. Nothing but the divine feeling of his weight in my arms, as if I’m holding the only truly valuable piece of the world.

“Is he starting to settle into the meds?” I ask Savannah.

She cocks her head and makes a face I know all too well. “Today’s been better,” she murmurs.

I nod and shift my gaze back to Grayson. So strong but so fragile. He’s thirteen months old and he’s already been through more than most adults my age. More pain, more medications, more grueling trips to the hospital. And with no perception of life outside of the agony brought on by a condition entirely out of his control.

“Do they seem to help?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head woefully. “Not enough to avoid a catheter procedure,” she adds, spitting the words out as if they physically hurt.

“We’ve got to do what he needs, Savannah.” I look at her while Grayson plays with the zipper on my jacket. “Whatever it is.”

She bites her lip. “He still cries for hours sometimes,” she says, reaching to hold his dangling foot between her fingers. “The doctors say he’s probably reacting to some tightness in his chest and that there’s nothing I can do.”

I nod my understanding.

“I’m worried about him.”

“I know.” I scratch up and down Savannah’s back as she dries a tear before it escapes. “He’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.” I bounce Grayson in my arms. “Yeah, you’ll be good, won’t ‘cha? There’s no taking you down, dude.”

Savannah’s lips curl, stopping just short of a smile. “He’s getting bigger,” she says softly.

“Yeah, no kidding. He’s going to be big like his dad one day, aren’t ya?”

“He looks just like him,” she says. “It’s like he got all of Kris’s genes and nothing from me.” She chuckles feebly and I smile. A few years ago, I would’ve laughed in the face of anyone that told me their infant looked more like one parent or the other. All babies are blubbery fat and skin blended into something with a mouth and eyes, I would’ve said. And I would’ve been wrong.

Everything about Grayson’s infant face resembles my brother’s. Biology might require two willing participants, but this is my brother’s son.

With Grayson still in my arms, I open my car door and sit on the side of the seat as I retrieve the paper bag. Savannah takes the money and shoves it in her jacket pocket while I bounce Grayson on my knee.

“That’s five-grand. You can go ahead and put it towards the meds and insurance for now, but as soon as you talk to the doctors about—” My sentence cuts as my entire mouth goes dry. I hold my stare on the lump in her belly before glaring into her eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Savannah’s hands dart to her stomach in an attempt to cover what can’t be hidden. She looks at the ground, her lips pursed.

“Savannah, are you fucking serious?” I fix Grayson in my arm and get to my feet. My next sentence falters before I can even begin as a million thoughts cloud out the words. I shut my eyes and embrace the darkness before opening again. “How long?”

She shrugs, her stare glued to the ground.

“You don’t even know?” I let that hang in the air between us. “Tell me you know who—”

“Three months,” she murmurs.

I suck in a heavy breath. “Three months, huh?” My jaw clinches and I begin to nod. “Three months. Isn’t that awesome?”

“Noah, don’t—”

“No, congratulations Savannah. What a cause for celebration. I’m really glad you—”

“Stop! Please, Noah.” Finally her eyes find mine. “I knew this was going to happen, but I can’t do this right now, and you can’t fault me for moving on. I can’t just—”

“Moving on?” I cough out a humorless laugh. “You think this is about ‘moving on?’”

“He’s gone, Noah. He’s gone and we can’t do anything to bring him back,” she says. “I’m trying my best to accept that.”

Her words are needles to my skin.

“Well, not that I don’t appreciate you finding a new toy to compensate for my brother’s absence, but god dammit, Savannah. What about Grayson? Where the hell are your priorities? You have a child with a heart condition that could kill him.”

“Don’t say that,” she sputters, tears thickening in her eyes. She goes to reach for Grayson but I turn away and she grabs my arm instead. “Noah, please!”

“Why should I? He needs help, Savannah. Not another sibling.”

Her tears break through and spill down her cheeks. “You don’t even know what—”

“Oh, what don’t I know?” I interrupt. “Please, tell me what I’m missing. I’ve been out there risking my—”

I cut myself off.

She covers her face and I hold Grayson tight to my chest. “Everything’s okay, buddy.” I kiss the top of his head. Savannah leans back against the car while I open its backseat door.

“I’ll see you soon, all right?” I give him my pointer finger and he curls his tiny fist around it. “Just hang in there, okay?”

I sit him in his car seat and try my best not to break his hold on my finger while I buckle him in. “All right, I love you little man.” I kiss his forehead once more and it takes everything I have to pull my finger out of his fist. The moment slows as I hold his face in my gaze while closing the door.

In two steady strides I’m back in my own driver seat.

“Good luck with moving on,” I say, twisting the keys in the ignition. “I hope this new baby is the replacement you’re looking for.”

I slam my door and throw the gear in reverse.