Page 38 of Manic

She's handling all of this so much better than I could have hoped.

"Now for the tiramisu!" Tindra announces, already pulling out ingredients.

I laugh, shaking my head. "You're unstoppable, aren't you?"

She grins, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, we want to impress him, right?"

"Trust me, honey," I say softly, "he's already impressed. He's already so proud of you."

Tindra blushes, ducking her head. "You really think so?"

"I know so," I assure her, pulling her into a hug. "Now, let's tackle this tiramisu before your father gets here."

As we work on the dessert, I find myself lost in thought again.

The past few days have been a whirlwind.

We’re finally home, in the place we were always meant to be.

It’s been chaotic telling Tindra about Tor, explaining our complicated history, answering her countless questions... it's been exhausting, but also strangely freeing.

Over the next few hours, we get everything ready and I whip up a fresh Caesar salad when the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” I holler to Tindra.

I head over to the door and swing it open, “Hey, come on in.”

Tor is all smiles as he heads inside. “Man, it smells great in here.”

I shut the door behind him and he kicks his boots off, “Well, your daughter has been whipping you up quite the meal.”

He throws his head back and laughs, “She’s not gonna poison me, right? I don’t really remember you being a good cook.”

I poke him in the chest, “I will have you know that I’ve grown a lot in the last fifteen years.”

Tor chuckles as we head into the kitchen and Tindra’s pulling out the dish from the oven, the cheese bubbling and golden brown.

"This smells amazing," Tor says, his deep voice warm with appreciation.

I glance up, catching his gaze. "I know, Tindra did a great job. Why don’t we get our plates ready and head into the dining room?

"Sounds good," Tindra says.

As we settle around the table, I can't help but notice how Tor's bottle green eyes flick between Tindra and me.

There's a softness there I've rarely seen, a vulnerability that makes my heart ache.

"So, Tindra," Tor begins, his tone gentle as he turns to our daughter. "Tell me about school. What subjects do you like best?"

Tindra's face lights up. "I love science! We're studying marine biology right now, and it's fascinating."

Tor leans in, genuinely interested. "Marine biology, huh? That's impressive. What got you interested in that?"

As Tindra launches into an animated explanation about her passion for ocean conservation, I find myself watching Tor.

His full attention is on our daughter, hanging on her every word.

It's a side of him I've never seen before—the doting father, eager to know every detail of his child's life.

"You know," Tor says, a hint of pride in his voice, "I used to go fishing a lot when I was younger. Maybe we could take a trip to the coast sometime, all of us together."

---