241
DEREK
I had called every day that week.
Sometimes twice. Once just after breakfast, and once again after doner when I knew she might be home. And four times out of five, it wasn’t Elena who picked up the phone.
It was Aiden.
Not that I minded talking to him–I looked forward to it–but it gnawed at me. Every time he chirped “Hi, Dad!” with that easy grin in his voice, there was a pang right behind my ribs. Because it meant it wasn’t her. It meant she hadn’t answered. Again.
And when I did get Elena, it was quick. Clipped. Polite.
Always busy.
Always with the foundation.
Every time I asked when we could talk–really talk–she pushed it off. When I asked when I could see her, she said, “I’ve got a site visit,” or “There’s a meeting I can’t miss.”
No matter what I said, the answer always felt like a wall. The work she was doing was important–I knew that. I believed it. But something about the way she always seemed just out of reach left me wondering if I’d already missed my chance to close that
gap.
I tried to tell myself it was just timing. That she’d settle into a rhythm, that we’d find space to breathe again. But doubt crept in anyway, quiet and constant.
And that ache behind my ribs?
It was getting harder to ignore.
I pulled up outside the Moonstone packhouse just before noon, as planned. The front steps looked the same–wood polished by years of use, a wind chime tinkling softly from the porch–but the feeling in my chest was different. I used to come here feeling hopeful. Confident.
Lately, I felt like I was walking into a house that was slowly forgetting me.
The maid who answered the door smiled kindly but shifted when she saw me.
“I’m here for Aiden,” I said.
“Oh, yes, he’s just getting his bag.” She hesitated. “Miss Elena isn’t here, I’m afraid.”
I nodded, hiding my disappointment with practiced ease. “Of course. Thank you.”
Another no–show. Again.
Before I could say more, I heard the familiar sound of feet pounding down the stairs.
“Dad!”
Aiden bounded into view like a shot of sunlight, grinning so wide his dimples practically fell off his face.
“Hey, buddy!” I crouched just in time to catch him as he leapt into my arms.
“Did you remember to pack your toothbrush?” I asked as I set him back down.
“Yes.”
“Did you remember Mr. Giggles?”
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His face turned beet red. “Dad,” he hissed, eyes darting toward the maid. “No one is supposed to know I still sleep with a stuffed wolf!”
Why?” I asked solemnly. “I still like to cuddle a wolf.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”
I leaned in, voice serious. “Yes. You.”
And with that, I scooped him up again and buried my face into the crook of his neck, blowing raspberries until he squealed with laughter, his embarrassment forgotten.
By the time we got to the car, he was giggling and breathless, dragging his small suitcase behind him with dramatic flair.
Once I’d loaded him in and buckled his seatbelt, we pulled out of the driveway. The trees were just starting to turn at the edges- flickers of orange and red creeping in like shy guests at a party. The light filtering through the windshield was soft. Autumn was coming, slow and golden.
Halfway down the long road back toward Silverclaw, Aiden fell quiet. I let the silence stretch, waiting.
Finally, I asked, “How’s your mom doing?”
He sighed. A small, tired sound that felt far too adult for a six–year–old.
“She’s always busy.”
“Yeah?” I said gently. “With the foundation?”
Aiden nodded, slumping in his seat. “She has all these papers. And meetings. And she’s always talking to people. Sometimes she’s not even home for dinner. The pack chef makes spaghetti, but it’s not the same.”
I swallowed. “Well, it’s important work she’s doing.”
Aiden didn’t answer.
“It’s good work,” I added. “Helping people. Those of us who are able should always do good works when we can.”
That got his attention. He looked up, his brows scrunched together
“Did the Silver Claw do good works?”
I glanced at him. His face was curious–serious in that way kids sometimes are, when the world feels just a little too big to understand. He wasn’t asking about bedtime stories. He was asking about legacy.
“He did,” I said. “He fought. But when he fought, it was for something that mattered. To protect people. To protect his pack. And when he could help, he did. Even when it was hard. Even when no one thanked him for it.”
Aiden nodded slowly.
“I think Mom’s doing that,” he said after a minute.
“I think she is too.”
He went quiet again.
Then: “I just wish she weren’t doing all this good work with him.
The words hit me like a punch to the sternum.
“With who?” I asked carefully.
Aiden rolled his eyes. “Her partner. The man she’s working with. She’s with him constantly.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
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“She talks about him a lot. He always brings her coffee. And flowers. And one time she called him ‘charming, but I know what that means.”
forced a smile. “What does that mean?”
“It means she likes him, but she doesn’t want to say she likes him
“Ah,” I said.
Aiden nodded like a sage. “I don’t like him.“,
I glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. He’s all smiley and weird. And he talks like he thinks he’s aprince or something.”
That made me chuckle, despite myself. “I’m sure he’s not a prince
“He acts like one,” Aiden grumbled. “He said he’d take us for ice cream but I told him I hated ice cream.”
“You do not hate ice cream.”
“I know.” He smirked. “But I didn’t want to go. And I didn’t want him calling me Big Guy.”
“Fair.”
There was a pause. Then Aiden said, “You’re not mad at Mom, are you?”
I blinked, surprised by the question. “What? No. Why would I be mad at her?”
“Because she’s always with him.”
My chest tightened.
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not mad. I just… miss her.”
He nodded solemnly. “Me too.”
We were quiet for a long time after that.
He looked out the window, forehead pressed to the glass, and I let the silence sit between us like an old friend. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just honest.
But inside, I was already turning over the new piece of information. A man. Working closely with Elena. Constantly. Coffee.
Flowers. Charm.
And me?
Regret started to burn in my stomach. Had I been too blunt? Too slow to support her? Had I made her feel alone in all this?
She was trying to build something good. And maybe I’d made it harder.
I’d thought we were getting closer again. I thought there was still time. But maybe I’d missed it.
“Hey,” Aiden said suddenly. “Can we go to Nonna’s for dinner?”
His tone was cheerful again, like none of the last five minutes had happened.
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Can I get extra breadsticks?”
“You can get all the breadsticks.”
He beamed.
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And I tried not to think about the fact that while Elena was building
hold on to something that might already be gone.
+25
BONUS
And I tried
hold
to think about the fact that while Elena not on to something that might already be gone.
was
buildings
with something
someone else,
I was
the one trying to
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