Page 124 of Reckless
A first injury.
I don’t want to miss a single thing because I’ve already missed so many.
“Theo...” Winter’s voice is soft now, and her soft, slender fingers slide between mine, squeezing gently. “We’re going to be good. We’re going to be so happy when you get back. But we’ll survive without you. You need to do this. You’ll regret not doing this.”
I blink. “What if I don’t win this year? Then I’ll be gone next year too.”
“Then we’ll be here waiting for you to get home next year too. I’m dreading going back to work too. But the world doesn’t stop. Dreams don’t evaporate. We’re going to figure this out.”
She swallows, her throat working. I can tell she’s not done but is having an internal pep talk with herself to get the words out. “As a family.”
That battering ram strikes again. Winter’s tied up so tight, sometimes these comments feel like a knot in her mind has tugged free. That she’s straightening things out in her head as she goes too.
All I can do is nod.
“But Theo?” She tugs me closer, hand sliding up my chest.
“Yes?”
“I really think the plan should be for you to win this yearandnext year.”
Winter hasn’t told me she loves me, but this comment tells me she does. That she wants me to do things that are important to me. That she’ll be here when I do them. That she’s not here to hold me back. That she doesn’t just need me around to help with Vivi—she understands that I need to feel accomplished.
Vivi tugs on my jeans with some garbled sentence.
I crouch back down to her instantly. “Is that so? I’m going to miss you too. Very much.”
It doesn’t matter that it’s only a couple of weeks. It’s going to feel like a lifetime. I bet she’ll be bigger when I get back. Walking around with no problem, not just for a few steps between her mom and me.
One of her tiny hands pats my cheek in response.
I’m an emotional mess. These last two months have put me through the fucking ringer, and I’m not sure I’ve completely processed it all. I dove into the deep end and started swimming.
So, I cup my daughter’s cherub cheeks and tell her what my dad used to tell me before he’d leave. The last words he ever said to me.
“Te vivo, baby girl.”
She bats her eyelashes and studies me, her little bow-shaped lips turned up in a smile that strikes me as wise beyond her years. Months?
Then she blows a raspberry on the inside of my arm and the moment evaporates. Amused, she turns the other way and blows one on Winter’s bare leg. She goes on practicing like she’s learning a new instrument.
When I glance up at Winter, her head tilts. “What does that mean?”
“What?” I ruffle Vivi’s hair and push back up to standing.
“What you just said to her.”
“Te vivo?” Winter nods. “It’s Portuguese. My dad used to say it to my sister and me. Sadly, it’s some of the only Portuguese I know. It means ‘I live you’ or something along those lines.”
“You mean I love you?”
“No.” I scrub at my stubble and glance down at our daughter, who is now amusing herself by playing her favorite game of fetch with Peter and his miniature rubber chicken. “It means ...Iliveyou. Like I see you everywhere, you are in everything. Our connection is more than physical.”
“Hmm.” Winter sighs, glancing down at our daughter. “I love that. But also...why is English the least romantic language in the world? Tell me more things in Portuguese.”
“I wish I knew more. My dad was so focused on immersing himself in North American culture that we really didn’t get a lot of his heritage.”
A small frown touches Winter’s face. “That’s a shame. Maybe we can go one day.”
