“What field?” she asks.
“Security,” I say quickly. “He used to work in military security.”
“Oh.” She studies him with sudden curiosity. “Like guarding people?”
“Sometimes,” he says lightly. “Sometimes watching out for things they didn’t know were there.”
Her brow furrows as she thinks that over. “Like spies?”
He chuckles. “Not quite that cool. More like keeping people safe without them noticing.”
“Like you’re doing now,” she says.
There’s a short silence—unexpectedly tender—and I see Noah glance at me before answering.
“Exactly like that.”
Her grin is bright and unguarded, and I can’t help smiling too.
“Can I be excused?” she asks, plate already lifted in the air.
“Homework first,” I say automatically.
“Already done.”
I raise a brow.
“Mostly done,” she amends.
“Go on.”
She leans in to hug me—quick but real—then waves to Noah. “Bye. Thanks for the pizza.”
“Anytime,” he says.
When her footsteps fade upstairs, the house goes still again, but it’s a comfortable kind of quiet.
“She’s great,” he says.
“She is.” I watch the spot where she disappeared, a smile still tugging at my mouth. “Most of the time.”
“Strong-willed.”
“She gets that honestly.”
He laughs softly, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I figured.”
We sit there for a moment—two adults at a quiet counter, the remains of dinner between us. There’s an ease that wasn’t there before, something unspoken but likely mutual.
“I should let you get some rest,” he says finally, standing.
I want to ask him to stay—just a little longer, just for the company—but I only nod. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime,” he echoes, with that faint smile that lingers long after he’s gone downstairs.
The house feels different with him in it. Less empty.
But it doesn’t take long after I’ve cleaned and headed upstairs for bed, for the full force of the day to return. Matthew lying on the floor, unresponsive. The medics, lifting him onto the gurney. Their unhurried departure—because there was no one to save.