He was still him.
But something had shifted.
There wasn’t heat between them anymore but there was warmth. A kind of earned peace. When they reached the last bag, Adair held it open while Sabine finished tying the ribbon. Their fingers brushed and neither of them flinched. He sat back and looked at the full pile.
“How many kids did you invite?” he asked, realizing just how many party bags there was.
Laughing, Sabine responded, “his whole class and let’s not act like his daddy side ain’t full of cousins,” she jabbed and they shared a laugh.
“True,” Adair agreed. “Farah,” he spoke of one of his cousins. “Just told me he got another one on the way.”
“I know not wit that stank hoe La’Wacka Flacka, or whatever the hell her name is!” Pam shouted from the kitchen making them holler.
“Yea mama,” Adair laughed. “La’Wacka Flacka,” he confirmed, not remembering the girl’s name either.
“It’s La’Wanna,” Sabine shook her head smiling, at the both of them and Adair simply stared at her. She even remembered his cousins’ millions of baby mamas—that’s how much she valued his family.
He turned toward her, just slightly. She didn’t meet his eyes at first. She was busy straightening the pile but then she glanced up, and whatever passed between them in that moment wasn’t heavy or sad.
It was recognition.
Of everything that had been broken.
And everything they were still strong enough to do together.
Even if it was just this.
Pam passed by again, muttering, “about time,” before disappearing into the hallway. Sabine laughed softly under her breath, the sound curling into his chest.
Ade returned just as they finished, throwing himself across both their laps like a little comet. “Did y’all finish my space bags?!”
“All forty-five,” Sabine said.
“Then I love y’all both infinity!” Ade beamed.
Adair kissed the top of his head. “Infinity andback, kid.”
Ade grinned and jumped up. As he bounded off, Adair looked over at Sabine again. She was watching their son with that samesoft expression she’d always had—like he was her heart with legs.
“You really been doing all this by yourself,” Adair said quietly. “For years.”
She didn’t respond right away. Then: “Yeah. But I never wanted to.”
That landed like a brick and he gave a slow nod. “I’m here now.”
Sabine didn’t offer forgiveness. Or reassurance. She just nodded once. “That’s good,” she said. “Because he’s gonna remember this year. Not just the astronaut or the stars…but that you helped.”
Adair swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.
“I want him to remember that I wasinit. Not just standing off to the side. I want to be in it.”
“You will be.”
He stayed long after they finished and Sabine looked at him—not with bitterness, not with nostalgia but maybe, just maybe, with the smallest sliver of new respect.
ADE’S 6TH BIRTHDAY
The venue buzzed with kids’ laughter, and the sound of space-themed music playing overhead. The ceiling was strung with silver streamers and model planets. Blue lights danced across the floor like stars, and a full-size inflatable rocket ship sat beside the massive mobile dome that Adair had booked—the planetarium that took up half the room. The glow from it made everything feel enchanted. Unreal.