I said: I know.
She said: he’s asleep.
I said: yes.
She said: they’re on his feet.
I said: yes.
She said: he’s too small for shoes.
I said: three weeks old.
She said: you bought him shoes at three weeks.
I said: yes.
She said: because you wanted to.
I said: yes.
She said: that’s what love looks like.
She said: wanting to.
She said: not doing it because you have to.
She said: doing it because you want to.
I said: yes.
She said: and I want to.
She said: I want to call more.
She said: I want to be there more.
She said: not because you heard Lucas say that thing.
She said: because I want to.
She said: you taught me that love is wanting to.
She said: and I want to.
I said: yes.
She said: I’m going to be here more.
I said: I know.
She said: is that enough?
I said: it’s a start.
She said: okay.
She said: starts are fine.
She said: starts are what we have.
Lucas picked up the pages from the table.
He read them again.
Not quickly.
He read them the way you read something that requires you to take each piece seriously.
He put them down.
He said: can I keep these?
I said: yes.
He said: I want Sarah to read them.
He said: I want her to understand.
He said: and when the baby comes.
He said: I want to know what it cost.
He said: not to feel guilty.
He said: so I know what it is.
He said: what the actual thing is.
He said: so when I’m doing it.
He said: I know I’m doing it.
He said: and I choose it.
He said: because I want to.
I said: yes.
I said: that’s it.
I said: that is the whole thing.
He said: you were never invisible.
He said: I just wasn’t looking.
I said: yes.
He said: I’m going to look now.
I said: yes.
He said: I promise.
He said it the way he had said I’ll pay you back.
But different.
The other promise had been said quickly, with the ease of someone who hasn’t yet done the math.
This one was said slowly.
With the weight of someone who had now done the math.
And understood what the math was.
I stayed three more weeks.
Not because the ankle required it.
Because we decided I should.
Lucas made my meals.
Not because I asked.
Because he decided to.
He sat with me in the evenings.
He talked.
Not the efficient check-ins.
Actual talking.
About work and about Sarah and about the baby they were expecting and about his plans and about his fears.
He told me things he had not told me before.
I told him things I had not told him before.
Zoe came back the following weekend.
She stayed for three days.
She helped me with the exercises the physical therapist had assigned.
She made dinner on Sunday.
She called on the Monday after she left.
She called on Wednesday too.
Not monthly.
Not to perform.
Because she wanted to.
The ankle healed.
I went back to my apartment.
Lucas drove me.
He carried the bag.
He looked at the apartment.
He said: the kitchen seems hard.
He said: the bathroom.
He said: do you need anything changed?
I said: no.
