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“What’d you do today?” Kat asks me as I turn the stove on, listening to the clicks before the gas lights.

“Not much,” I answer her as I look over my shoulder. Just hunting down the identity of a drug dealer. I grind my teeth at the thought, wishing it weren’t true.

“What do you think you want to do?” Kat asks me as I pour olive oil into the pan. Chicken marsala for dinner. My throat goes dry as I remember how Pops taught me how to cook it; it was one of his favorites.

“Like do for work?” I ask her and put the chicken in the pan. The sizzle is perfect.

She shrugs and then hops up on the counter, setting her ass down and letting her feet dangle. “I know you have some investments.”

“Some is putting it lightly,” I tell her. “If you’re worried about money, don’t be. We’ll be fine.” I haven’t checked in a week or two on some of the stocks, but the savings account is more than enough. We’ve been here so long, both of us working and not doing much of anything else. The money just piled up.

“I’m not really worried about money, it’s more about what you’re going to do with yourself.”

I flip the breasts over and pick up the pan, making sure to spread the oil before setting it back down. Just how Ma used to do.

“We have the baby,” I tell her and walk over, standing between her legs with my hands at her hips. “That’s all I’ve been thinking about for now.”

“The baby won’t be here for a while,” she tells me and threads her fingers through my hair. I love it when she does this. When she loves on me. I missed this. “I’m worried about you,” she tells me and I back away slightly, but she keeps me there, tightening her legs around me.

“Don’t be upset,” she says and I find it hard not to be.

“I’m fine,” I tell her and even I know it’s a lie.

“You just lost your father, and … ”

“Stop worrying about me,” I tell her.

“You scared me last night with the night terror. And the ones you’ve had before,” she adds. I shouldn’t have told her.

“It’ll be over soon,” I reassure her and get back to cooking. It’s quiet for a moment, but that doesn’t last long. Kat’s not the best at giving up on what she wants.

“But what do you want to do?” she asks me. At least she dropped the subject about Pops and the nightmares.

I look back at her, wiping my hands with the kitchen towel and then tossing it on to the countertop.

“I’m not worried about keeping myself busy,” I tell her.

She purses her lips and nods, but she doesn’t seem convinced.

“I’m going to be fine,” I say and stir the sauce before layering it onto the cooked chicken.

“You know what I’m going to do?” I ask her and ignore the pit in my stomach about everything going on. I just focus on after all this shit is over.

“I’m going to move us out of here,” I say and she rolls her eyes.

“For the love of God, hire a moving company this time,” she says with exasperation and I give her the laugh she’s after.

“I’m going to find a house you love and help you make it ours.” I tap the tongs on the side of the pan as I pull it off the burner and then walk back to her. “I’m going to set up our baby’s room and make it perfect.”

She likes that. She starts swaying on the counter like she’s giddy at the thought.

“I’m going to make sure the two of you have nothing to worry about and that the three of us are happy and healthy and all that good shit.”

She lets out a small laugh and wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“I love you, babe,” I tell her and she leans in for a small kiss.

“I love you too, and I just hate seeing you anything other than happy.”

“I’ll be better when this is over with,” I tell her. She kisses me soft and sweet, and it feels right. She’s a balm to my soul, but it doesn’t take the pain away.

“I’m worried for you,” she whispers against my lips.

I brush my nose against hers. “It’s not supposed to work that way,” I tell her.

Her green eyes peek up at me through her thick lashes and she says, “Yeah it is. Don’t you know that by now?”