She lingered.
Of course she did. Standing there in the doorway with Duchess cradled in her arms like a baby that clearly didn't want to be a baby. Her bag already slung over her shoulder, her shoes already on, everything ready—except her.
She shifted her weight once, twice. Eyes darting everywhere but the door, like if she stared long enough at the walls or the floor, maybe time would just stop for her.
I leaned against the frame, arms folded, trying not to make it harder. "Val."
She hummed. Like a girl caught stealing minutes.
"Call me when you get home."
She rolled her eyes—soft, not bratty. "Obviously, husband."
And then she leaned in. Quick. Warm. A kiss that was over before I could even close my eyes. Just a brush of lips, simple, nothing more—but it left the room feeling heavier when she pulled back.
"Go," I said, even though I didn't want her to.
She smirked like she knew. "I'll see you at school tomorrow… but I'll really see you on Friday."
