After dinner, Chase and Emma take their kids upstairs for bedtime, and Jackson and Maya head out to their own house across town, which leaves Tyler and me in Emma's living room with Harper.
"I need to head back to the hotel," Tyler says reluctantly, checking his phone. "Team curfew."
"Right. Of course."
We're staying here at Emma's for the weekend—she already set up the pack-and-play in the guest room. Tyler's at the team hotel tonight, then they travel back to Ridgeport tomorrow while Harper and I take the train back Sunday.
"I should get Harper to bed," I say. "She's exhausted."
"Yeah." Tyler's holding her, reluctant to let go. "She did so well today, she wasn't even fussy during the game."
"She loves watching you play."
"I can't believe you came," he says quietly, looking down at Harper. "When I saw you in the stands during warm-ups, I thought I was hallucinating."
"Emma said you'd want us here."
"I always want you here." He looks up at me, and the yearning in his blue eyes is unmistakable. "Both of you. Everywhere."
My heart is in my throat. "Ty?—"
"I know. I know we can't—" He stops himself, looking down at Harper, who's falling asleep against his chest. "Seeing you there today made everything better. The game, being in Hartford, all of it."
I can't breathe. "Tyler."
"But we're being smart about this, right?" He stands up carefully, Harper asleep now. "Being responsible. Maintaining boundaries."
"Right."
"Even though it's killing me."
"Me too," I whisper.
He transfers Harper to me gently, and for a second, we're both holding her, our hands touching, faces inches apart.
"Goodnight, Red. Thank you for surprising me. Best thing that's happened in weeks."
"Goodnight, Ty."
He leaves, and I'm left standing in Emma's living room with a sleeping baby and a heart that's beating way too fast.
Later, after I've put Harper down and I'm lying in the guest bed staring at the ceiling, my phone buzzes.
Tyler: Can’t sleep. Keep thinking about you.
Me: You should sleep. Big travel day tomorrow.
Tyler: Should. Won't. The whole game felt different knowing you were watching.
Me: I’m always watching you.
Tyler: I played better because of it. I always do.
I stare at that message for a long time, my thumb hovering over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to say that won't make this harder than it already is.
Me: Goodnight, Tyler. Sweet dreams.
Tyler: Only if you're in them.