“You don’t have to thank me, Bean. I always got you and look, if you need more money, too, I know you’ve been swamped with work lately, I’ll take care of whatever’s left.”
Adair never slacked when it came to financial responsibility. He made sure their son was taken care of, always but Sabine never asked him for more, even when she probably needed it. And if she was struggling beyond what he could see, he wouldn’t have know because she stopped bringing her needs to him a long time ago.
“I won’t say no,” she said, with a soft giggle that warmed him from his head to below. He could feel her smile through the phone and it did something to him. “Ummm…this weekend we’re ummm…doing gift bags at Pam’s…and…if…” she was stammering badly. “If you wanted to come by and help?—”
“I’m there,” Adair responded without question.
That Saturday, Adair pulled up to Pam’s house with the trunk packed like he actually knew what he was doing. Space-themed flashlights. Glow-in-the-dark stars. Little astronaut keychains.
He’d driven across town twice the day before just to find the exact drawstring bags Sabine had mentioned on the phone. Not because she asked. Just because it mattered now.
The screen door gave its usual screech. The house smelled like lemon cleaner, fabric softener, and his mother’s pot roast in the oven. He paused for a second at the threshold, watching it all.
Sabine was at the kitchen table, legs tucked under her, scooping silver star confetti into clear plastic bags. Her hair was in a puff, no makeup, sleeves scrunched to her elbows. She wasin her zone. That kind of focus she always had when she was doing something for Ade.
Adair used to see her like this all the time—on the floor wrapping Christmas gifts or labeling preschool folders. It hit him that he hadn’t seen this version of her in person in a while.
“Look who finally decided to be useful.” Pam glanced up from the stove.
“Don’t start.” Adair smirked. He came in and dropped the box on the table with a soft thud. Sabine looked up, surprised at how much he brought.
“You didn’t have to do all that.”
“I wanted to,” he said simply and he meant it.
Ade came running in from the living room, tablet in one hand and a plastic moon rover in the other. “Daddy!” he knew he was having a party but not what wasactuallyin store, so Sabine didn’t care that he saw his party favors.
Adair barely had time to brace before Ade launched himself into his arms.
“What up, champ?” He scooped him up and spun him once, just enough to get that belly laugh he lived for. “You ready to turn six?”
“I been ready!” Ade shouted, and Adair could feel him vibrating with excitement. He set him down gently, then slid into the chair next to Sabine. Pam smirked then strutted back to the kitchen.
“What are we stuffing?” he asked.
“Stickers, stars, freeze-dried fruit snacks. Moon rocks—well, rock candy that looks like them,” she said, pointing to the lineup of supplies. “Then all of this cool stuff you brought,” she said taking things out of the box.
“Copy.”
And he got to work.
No phone.
No emails.
No disappearing to take a call or respond to a text. Just hands, party bags, laughter, and little boy joy. Ade bounced between the table and the living room, checking their progress like he was supervising.
Pam passed behind them every so often, throwing comments over her shoulder about how “some people had to learn what parenting looked like in daylight.” Adair didn’t even flinch. He earned that.
What struck him most was howeasyit felt. Sitting next to Sabine. Filling bags. Their arms bumping every now and then. Falling into a rhythm without needing to talk too much. Every now and then she’d pass him more ribbon or slide a finished bag his way without looking. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.
Not the relationship.
But thedoing. The being.
Adair caught himself watching her at one point. The way she inspected each bag after she tied it, making sure none of them were missing anything. The way she squinted when she read labels. The way she smiled without realizing it when Ade skipped past singing the words to “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” with his own made-up lyrics.
She was still her.