Page 91 of From Maybe to Baby

Everything’s wrong, slightly off-center, like a picture frame knocked crooked:

- Her coffee mug missing from the morning lineup

- Her shoes no longer by the door

- Her laptop missing from its usual spot

- Her presence fading like a Polaroid left in the sun

She shows up late one night, after the kids are asleep. After I've cleaned up another day's emotional debris.

"I have to grab my things," she says. Not at midnight. Not with that look in her eyes that says she's memorizing everything she's about to say goodbye to.

"The kids missed you at dinner."

"I know. I… I’m so sorry. I’m moving to a hotel for the rest of my stay in San Francisco.”

And there we have it.

"What about Paris?"

She flinches. "Jonas..."

"You're breaking hearts here, Alexa,” I try saying in a jovial tone.

Yeah, no big deal. Stomp all over my kids’ hearts. They’ll be fine. Me, not so much.

"This is so hard, Jonas."

She has no idea.

"No, it's not hard. You're choosing Paris. Sounds simple to me. You’ll love it. It’s an amazing place." I fight hard to keep the edge out of my voice.

"I haven't decided?—"

"Then why are you going to a hotel?"

She throws one last thing into her bag. "I should go."

"All right.”

But I'm already moving toward her, drawn by gravity or memory or maybe just the need to hold onto something that's slipping away like water through my fingers.

She meets me halfway, like always. Like that first kiss in Hawaii. Like every moment since.

It feels different this time. Sad, almost. Her hands in my hair aren't playful anymore. My grip on her waist isn't passionate. Every touch feels like practice for saying goodbye.

"Stay," I whisper against her neck.

"Jonas..."

"Not forever. Just tonight."

We both know it's a lie. We both know that tonight means more than just tonight.

I swear I can taste the goodbye in her kiss.

But the couch catches us like it always has, and this time there's an edge to every touch. A finality. Her fingers trace my face like she's taking notes for later. My hands map her skin like I might never touch her again.

---