Jennay

“C’mon, it’s not that cold!” your older brother calls, already knee‑deep in. You narrow your eyes; you’ve known him long enough to recognize that mischievous grin. Why wouldn’t the ocean be cold?

“I know you better than that, Jolly. You lie!” you shout, barely daring to dip your toe into the water.

“Stop being a baby!” he laughs, sending a splash your way.

You flinch as the droplets hit your face. Being splashed is your personal trigger, something about it sparks an instant, irrational fury. You’re ready to yell when suddenly strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You shriek, kicking wildly as you’re lifted off the ground. Of course it’s Noah, you can tell by the height of the lift and the manic laughter spilling from him.

Cold salt water rushes around you, stealing your breath. You squirm free, kicking toward the light until your head breaks through the surface. You gasp, exhaling hard, flinging your hair back as droplets scatter in the sun. Strands cling to your cheeks as you swipe them away, blinking the sting of salt

“You dick!” you growl, smacking him square in the chest.

From the side of you, Jolly’s laughter cuts through the wind, loud and obnoxious. You don’t hesitate, you scoop up a handful of water and send your own miniature wave crashing into his face.

“God, you both are so annoying!” you shout, though you’re grinning now.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Nick and his fiancée strolling toward the water, all calm and composed, while Nicholas and his girlfriend ease in slowly, testing the temperature like civilized people. Must be nice to take your time, to not be ambushed by lunatics who think drowning you counts as bonding.

Noah’s grin widens when you glare at him, water dripping down your chin. “You look like a sea monster,” he says, voice rough with laughter.

“Better than looking like a drowned rat,” you shoot back, flicking water at him.

“Admit it,” he says, stepping closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “You have fun with me.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “I find you really fucking annoying.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his soaked hair. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Jolly stares at you then at Noah, he’s not dumb; he knows what’s going on and he’s not sure what to think about it. You shove Noah lightly toward the deeper water.

“Go bother someone else before I drown you for real.” Jolly chimes in. He gives Noah a look, one that says, ‘That’s my sister, fuck off.’

“Do it!” You yell, walking over to the other four, hoping it will keep you safe from Noah. “Drowned him!” You joke.

Noah shakes his head, “You guys would miss me too much.”

Nicholas and his fiancée finally wade in, laughing as a wave crashes against their legs. Nick and his girlfriend are already waist‑deep, tossing volleyball back and forth. Why did it have to be a volleyball? No one knows.

Jolly, of course, decides to turn it into a competition. “Alright, teams!” he shouts, scooping up the ball mid‑air. “Losers buy dinner!”

You groan. “You just want free food.”

“Exactly,” he grins, tossing the ball to Noah. “Us three versus those four. Don’t let me down!” He laughs, but you know he’s somewhat serious.

The game begins with laughter, shouting, waves crashing, everyone trying to keep the ball airborne while dodging Jolly’s dramatic dives. Nicholas’s fiancée shrieks when he misses a catch, and you’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts.

You’ve lost track of the ball until something slams into your face… hard. The shock steals your breath. Your hands fly up instinctively, pressing against your nose as pain spreads. For a second, you think you might throw up. There’s numbness and burning all at once, and the world tilts.

“What the fuck, Noah!?” Jolly’s voice cuts through the chaos, followed by the sound of splashing, fast and frantic.

Then Noah’s right there, so close you can feel the heat of his body against the chill of the water. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he blurts, voice cracking with panic. His hands find yours, trying to peel them away from your face. When he finally sees the blood streaming down your nose, his expression changes, guilt and fear tangled together.

“Pinch your nose,” he orders. You obey, and in one swift motion, he scoops you up, one arm under your back, the other beneath your legs. The water drips from both of you as he strides toward the shore.

Jolly’s beside you, jaw tight, anger radiating off him. “You’re an idiot,” he snaps at Noah, but his eyes keep flicking to you, worry softening the edges of his voice.

“Is it broken?” you whisper, dazed, the world still spinning.

Noah glances down at you, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think so,” he says, though his voice wavers. “But we’re gonna check anyway.”

On the sand, Nick and Nicholas rush over, their laughter gone. Nicholas’s fiancée grabs a towel from the cooler, pressing it into Noah’s hands. Nick’s girlfriend hovers nearby, biting her lip.

“Jesus, you fuckin nailed her,” Jolly mutters, shaking his head.

Noah ignores him, crouching beside you as he presses the towel gently against your nose. “Hold still,” he murmurs, his voice low now, careful. “I swear I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off with a muffled laugh, the sound half‑groan, half‑tease. “You’ve got terrible aim.”

He exhales, relief flickering through his eyes. “Guess I’ll stick to music instead of sports.”

Despite the pain, you can’t help but smile, because even bleeding and dizzy, you can sense the softness in his voice. Around you, the group starts to settle…Jolly still grumbling, Nick cracking a joke to ease the tension, and Noah hovering close enough that his knee brushes yours every time he shifts.

You slowly sit up holding the towel to your nose, “First you try to drown me, then you hit me in the face with a ball…some toxic mom might say you’re only mean because you like me.” You whisper the last part only loud enough for him to hear.

Theo stays glued to your side, her small hand swallowed in yours, your grip tighter than you meant it to be. You can’t help it. The crowd is a living thing, it’s loud, shifting, unpredictable, and the last place you ever wanted to lose her was in the chaos of a concert. The thought alone makes your stomach drop. You picture Noah shouting her name into a panicked crowd, security scrambling, people screaming, and your pulse spikes hard enough to make you dizzy.

You look down at Theo. She’s already craning her neck, trying to see past the wall of bodies. That’s enough to send your anxiety over the edge. You scoop her up without a second thought, holding her tight against you.

“Mommy, you’re squishing my sign!” she yells directly into your ear. Her voice is swallowed instantly by the music

You weave closer to the front of the line where people are asking for your tickets. Jolly never gave you tickets and what were you going to say? ‘I’m dating the lead singer?’ Sure that’s believable.

you can’t catch your breath, each step vibrating through your legs as the stage lights flare with flames and smoke.

Bryan was supposed to be watching for you both. He didn’t know your name, didn’t know your face by heart but kept picturing the photo Jolly had showed him. Five year old and her mom… can’t be too hard…how many five year olds could possibly be at the show?

“Mommy, it’s so loud!” Theo whines, burying her face in your shoulder.

You set her down for just a moment and move from the line to not block people from going in. You crouch down so you’re eye-level. “Theo, do not move from this spot.” You make your voice firm, louder than usual, hoping she can hear the seriousness even through the noise.

She nods quickly and clings to your leg. You dig through the bag with frantic fingers until you find her headphones. You fit them over her ears, adjusting them until they sit snugly. She gives you a thumbs-up, her universal sign for I’m okay and reaches for you again. You tuck her against your side, her sign pressed awkwardly between you both.

You’re panicking how were you supposed to get to where you needed to be. Just as that thought crosses your mind, a man steps directly into your path. “Hey!” he shouts over the music, flashing a quick smile. “I’m Bryan. Here to get you there!” He points toward the stage like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Relief hits you so hard your knees nearly buckle. You let out the breath you’ve been holding since you stepped into the venue and nod, following him as he cuts through the crowd with practiced ease. He flashes badges, waves off security, and leads you up a narrow set of stairs to the side platform.

Just like Jolly promised, there’s a small setup waiting, there is two chairs, a tiny table, snacks lined up like a miniature buffet, and a rainbow of kid-friendly drinks. Theo’s eyes go huge. She rushes toward the table, her sign bouncing against her knees, and you swear she forgets the entire world exists for a moment.

You try to focus on the stage, on the band, on the the crowd, but your eyes keep drifting to the lead singer. The way he moves, the way he commands the room, the way his voice seems to reach straight through the noise and land right in your chest.

Theo squints at the stage, her whole face scrunching in concentration. Then she gasps,loud enough to startle you and jumps to her feet, smacking your leg with both hands.

“It’s Noah!” she screams, her voice bursting with pure, unfiltered joy.

And for the first time since you walked into the venue, your fear loosened its grip. Just a little.

You smile down at Theo, brushing your fingers through her hair as she proudly unfolds her sign, wrinkled from being squished against your hip, hoists it into the air like she’s signaling a rescue helicopter.

The music cuts out for a beat, the sudden quiet almost startling. Noah’s voice rolls over the crowd. “Raise your lighters, phones…whatever you’ve got, if this is your first time seeing Bad Omens!”

Theo immediately thrusts your phone upward like she’s been waiting her whole life for this moment. In the process, she hits the flashlight button. The beam shoots straight up, wobbling wildly as she wiggles with excitement. It’s not bright enough to blind anyone, but it is bright enough to catch Noah’s eye through the haze of smog and stage lights.

He squints, confused. You can practically see him thinking, what the hell was that?

“This next song is—” he starts.

But Jolly has already spotted the rogue flashlight. Bryan gives him a quick signal, some kind of “yep, it’s happening” gesture and Jolly leans into his mic.

“Hold on,” he says, turning toward Noah with a grin that screams I’m about to cause problems on purpose. He laughs into the microphone. “We have a surprise for this one.”

He points directly at Noah.

Noah’s brows knit together. “No surprises. I don’t like that.” He says it like a man who already knows he’s about to be betrayed.

But Jolly is already handing off his guitar and sprinting to the side of the stage where you and Theo are tucked away. Nicholas gives the lighting cue, and suddenly the side platform floods with light, revealing you both like contestants on a game show.

The crowd can’t see you from their angle, but Noah can. Oh, he can. His whole face scrunches in this adorable, embarrassed smile he tries, and fails to hide. He covers his mouth with his hand, tilting his head down like he’s trying to disappear into his own shirt. You can practically hear his internal monologue, How did they sneak this past me? Who approved this? Why am I smiling like an idiot?

He laughs, sets the microphone back on the stand, and crouches down. Then he opens his arms wide and waves both hands toward himself, signaling for Theo like he’s calling a puppy. He knows you won’t step out there, but Theo? Theo would walk straight into a volcano if he asked.

She looks up at you, eyes huge, silently begging for permission. You nod.

She bolts toward the front of the stage with speed and determination. Noah barely has time to brace himself before she flings her entire body into his arms, nearly knocking him backward.

He catches her with a soft “oof,” laughing as she wraps her arms around his neck

Noah stands up slowly, still holding Theo like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever been handed. She settles naturally on his hip, one arm looped around his neck, her little sneakers dangling as he grabs the microphone with his free hand.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he says, glancing from the crowd back to Theo like he can’t quite believe she’s real. Behind him, the rest of the band starts drifting back into their places, all of them wearing the same amused expressions.

“This is my best friend, Theo,” Noah announces proudly. He gestures to her with the mic, and she gives the crowd a tiny wave like she’s greeting her royal subjects. “Her mom and her came to see us today, and I feel so fucking honored.”

The crowd roars, and Theo beams like she personally caused it.

The lights dim again, shifting into the soft blue wash meant for the next song. You think he’s going to set her down, but he doesn’t. He keeps her right there, tucked against him like she belongs.

“Theo,” he says, leaning the mic toward her, “do you wanna help me sing this next song?”

She nods so hard her headphones wobble. “Which one!?” she asks, tilting the mic toward her mouth like she’s done this a thousand times.

“The one that we sing about Mommy.”

Her eyes go huge , cartoon huge and she claps her hands together with a squeal that makes Noah laugh into the mic. The band starts the intro, and Theo immediately starts bobbing her head, completely off-beat but with full commitment.

Your heart? It’s not just swelling, it’s doing somersaults, cartwheels, backflips. You swear you can feel it in your throat.

As the song builds, Noah finally sets Theo down, but he doesn’t let go of her hand. She stands right beside him, bouncing on her toes.

When the instrumental hits, Noah grabs both her hands and starts jumping in circles with her, matching the rhythm as best he can while Theo just… jumps. No rhythm. No pattern. Just pure joy.

They spin in a wobbly little circle. Noah laughing, Theo shrieking with delight and the crowd loses their minds. Phones go up. People cheer.

Noah keeps her steady, guiding her jumps so she doesn’t faceplant, and every few seconds he glances over at you with this soft, overwhelmed smile the kind that says I can’t believe this is my life.

And honestly? You can’t either.

The music cuts out, a sudden hush, and Noah glances at Theo like he’s been handed the world’s cutest mission. He gives her this soft smile and they start walking back toward you, hand in hand, Theo’s tiny arm swinging.

When they reach you, Noah’s grin is so wide it looks medically concerning. “You came.” His voice cracks with how hard he’s smiling.

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though your heart is doing cartwheels. “A little birdie told me you were sad…”

He doesn’t even let the words settle. In one quick, reckless swoop, he cups your face and kisses you, just long enough for Theo to absolutely lose her mind.

“Mommy and Noah sitting in a tree!” she squeals, and instead of spelling it out like a normal child, she just hollers, “KISSING!”

Noah pulls back, forehead still touching yours, and looks down at her with a dramatic gasp. “We’ve been caught.” He wraps his arms around and you melt against him. You’d been missing being wrapped against his body.

Theo immediately switches to sing-song mode, pointing at him like she’s announcing breaking news. “Noah is mommy’s boyfriend, Noah is mommy’s boyfriend!”

You shake your head, laughing because there’s no stopping her now. You rest your hand on Noah’s chest and give him a light push, more of a tap, really, because he’s still smiling like a golden retriever who just got praised for doing the trick.

“Go do your job, doofus.”

He backs away slowly, walking backward toward the stage, still grinning, still watching you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks. Theo waves both arms, and Noah gives her a little salute before turning back to the band.

Noah lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling like it might blink first. The question kept circling in his mind stupidly loud. Was he really going to do this? Drag himself to a place he didn’t believe in, sit through stories he’d spent years rolling his eyes at, pretend he wasn’t drowning in his own head?

He exhaled hard, and pushed himself upright. His legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. He rubbed both hands down his face, and dug at his eyes until they stung.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, standing like it took effort he didn’t have.

Nothing else was working. He’d tried music, silence, sleep, pacing, pretending he was fine, none of it touched the fog sitting heavy in his body. He was right on the edge of an emotional collapse, and he knew it.

A desperate man looking for anything, anything, that might ease the ache in his mind.

“Just this once,” he told the empty room. “It couldn’t hurt.”

Maybe he’d catch some kind of uplifting moment. Maybe he’d sit there staring at the carpet while the pastor rambled about miracles and redemption and fictional stories that somehow changed people’s lives. Hell, maybe he’d even try singing. The lyrics were plastered on giant screens anyway, no thinking required.

He got dressed slowly, like every movement weighed ten pounds, then trudged to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth without really tasting the mint, dragged a comb through his hair without caring what it did. Energy was a foreign concept these days. Noah couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like himself.

By the time he slid into his car, the sky outside looked too bright for how he felt. As he drove, he kept trying to convince himself that the worst-case scenario wasn’t catastrophic. He’d walk in, sit through the service, walk out feeling exactly the same and feeling the same didn’t sound nearly as terrifying as feeling nothing at all.

When Noah arrived, he pulled open the heavy double doors, and the hinges betrayed him with a loud groan that made every head turn. The preacher was already mid‑sermon, planted firmly at his pulpit, and the congregation sat in perfect rows, silent, attentive, unified in their stare at the man who’d just interrupted them.

Heat crawled up Noah’s neck. He lifted a hand to his chest in a small apologetic wave, mouthing sorry like it might undo the moment.

As he scanned for an empty seat, he spotted her.

A girl at the end of a pew, roughly his age, posture relaxed, expression bored enough to be honest. She looked just as out of place as he felt, like she’d wandered in by accident or on a dare.

When their eyes met, she let out a soft snicker, not even bothering to hide it. It wasn’t mean. A tiny, shared yeah, this is weird between strangers.

That was all it took.

Noah made his choice. He slipped down the aisle and headed straight for her row, ignoring the polite, church‑approved smiles from everyone else. If he was going to survive this, he needed someone who wasn’t radiating holy enthusiasm. Someone who looked like she’d been exiled from the rest of them.

His kind of person.

He slid into the seat beside her, the cushion squeaking under his weight. She raised an eyebrow, amused, like she already knew exactly why he’d picked her.

And for the first time that morning, Noah felt the faintest flicker of relief, like maybe he wasn’t completely alone in this place after all.

“New here?” she murmured, just loud enough for him to catch it over the preacher’s voice.

Noah’s brown eyes drifted toward her like it took actual effort. “Yeah,” he muttered, low and tired.

“What’re you here for?” she asked, like they were in line at a bar instead of a pew.

He raised an eyebrow. Weren’t they all here for the same thing? Answers, hope, inspiration; whatever people came looking for when life felt too heavy.

He leaned slightly toward her. “Peace, I guess. Some kind of peace.” He flashed a crooked grin that could’ve been a smile or a grimace; even he wasn’t sure. “You being held hostage? ’Cause you look just as uncomfortable as I feel.”

She snorted, an actual snort, she didn’t bother hiding it. “My dad’s the preacher,” she said with a shrug. “I’m here so he can fix my ‘troubled’ ways.” She smiles, “makes me feel young again.”

Noah nodded, catching every ounce of sarcasm. “Ah. A rebel.”

She tilted her head, voice dropping even softer. “Wanna go for a walk? There’s an orchard down the street.” She glanced toward the front. “I’ll get up first and wait outside. Give it a minute before you follow. My dad watches everything.”

For the first time in weeks, something warm flickered in Noah’s chest. A real smile, small but honest. Before he could answer, she was already sliding out of the pew and heading for the doors with the kind of confidence that said she left mid‑service all the time and didn’t care who stared. She moved like someone who refused to be intimidated.

She was brave. And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to follow someone.

Noah lingered near the pew, waiting for a moment when slipping out wouldn’t feel like a crime. As if the universe finally threw him a bone, the people rose in unison and began forming a line for communion. Perfect. He ducked out, pushing through the heavy doors with the urgency of a kid sneaking off school property.

Sunlight washed over him the second he stepped outside. It wasn’t harsh this time. He stopped, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. Fresh air. Actual fresh air. It felt like the first good thing that had happened all week.

“You gonna stand there all day or what?”

Her amused voice cut through the quiet. He turned to his right, already smiling as he walked toward her.

They headed down the sidewalk, their steps falling into an easy rhythm. Up ahead, the orchard’s entrance came into view, iron gates held by old brick pillars, vines climbing them like they’d been trying for decades.

“So, preacher’s daughter?” he said, letting the sarcasm drip. “That must’ve been… fun.”

She snorted. “It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t great. Hard to sneak out to parties when your front door has an alarm that screams every time it opens.” She laughed under her breath. “Found that out the hard way.”

Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… curious.

At the gate, she reached for it, but Noah lightly smacked her arm before her hand touched the latch. He stepped in front of her and pulled it open himself.

“What a gentleman,” she teased, walking past him with a grin. “Anyway—back to you. Why church?”

He shrugged, eyes drifting away. “Why not?”

She groaned dramatically. “No. Absolutely not. I answered your question, mystery man. You owe me something.” She tilted her head, studying him. “You don’t exactly scream religious.”

He laughed, but his attention drifted past her, into the orchard.

The place was… unexpectedly beautiful. Rows of apple trees stretched out in neat lines, their branches heavy with green leaves and early fruit. The air smelled faintly of crushed grass, something floral he couldn’t name. Wildflowers grew in clusters at the bases of the trees, like someone planted them intentionally to make the place look whimsical. Even the imperfections were charming. The bushes trimmed just enough to hide patches of uneven ground, a cracked cement path softened by moss.

They walked beneath a canopy of branches that filtered the sunlight into patterns on the ground. It felt quiet here. Not church quiet but real quiet.

He exhaled slowly, letting the scenery settle into him.

“I actually wrote songs about religion,” Noah said, eyes fixed on the ground like it might swallow him whole. “And… some of the shit I felt toward God.”

She slowed her pace, watching him carefully. “Do you sing?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, jaw tightening. He didn’t want to sound like he was bragging. He didn’t want to sound like that guy. But something in her expression told him she wouldn’t care in the obnoxious kind of way. “I’m uh… I’m in a band. We tour a lot.”

He risked a glance at her. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t widen her eyes. Didn’t do the whole oh my god, really? routine. She just waited.

“It’s amazing,” he continued, voice softening. “I love my job. My bandmates, they’re my brothers. It’s everything I ever wanted.” He finally looked up, meeting her patient eyes. She wasn’t rushing him. She wasn’t judging him. She was just… there.

“But I get overwhelmed when I come home,” he admitted. “It’s like I step off the bus and suddenly I’m supposed to snap back into this other world. This normal world. And I don’t feel like I belong in it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, nerves flickering through him. “It’s depressing. Usually I can shake it off, but this time was different.”

They reached a break in the orchard path, sunlight filtering through the branches in soft patches. He stopped walking without meaning to.

“I spent almost three years on the road,” he said quietly tossing up his hands and smacking them back on his sides like he couldn’t even believe it. “Three years of everything I ever wanted. And when I got back… I felt like nothing. Like I’d left the best version of myself somewhere out there and came home with whatever was left.” His voice cracked just slightly. “I tried everything to snap out of it. Nothing worked. So… that’s why church. I just wanted to feel something. Anything. Desperation, I guess.”

She stopped too, turning toward him. Her hand came up gently, resting on his arm. The touch was light, but it hit him like a memory almost familiar in a way he couldn’t place.

“That’s really deep,” she said, searching his face like she was reading something written there. “Show me a song.”

He blinked. “Oh, uh…” He looked around, suddenly aware of the quiet orchard and the distant people. “I don’t wanna disrupt everyone.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin and started walking again. “C’mon.” She waved him over, heading toward a shaded corner where the fence met a cluster of old apple trees. The grass was thick and soft. No one was close enough to hear them.

She dropped into the grass without hesitation, leaning back on her hands as she looked around like she was claiming the spot. Noah sat beside her, feeling the shade settle over them.

“Alright,” she said, smiling at him with a softness that made it impossible to look away. “Now you can show me. I won’t judge.”

He smiles, slow and crooked, the kind of grin that says he already knows he’s lost this battle. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

She shakes her head with exaggerated stubbornness. “Nope. You sing for—what? Thousands? Tens of thousands? But you can’t show me?” Her tone is pure mischief, like she’s poking a bruise just to see him squirm.

Noah exhales through his nose, pulls out his phone, and scrolls until he finds the track. His thumb hovers over the screen longer than it should. Here goes nothing. He presses play and hands her the phone, suddenly hyper-aware of every breath she takes while listening. His stomach twists. Why is this scarier than performing in front of an arena?

“That one’s called Mercy,” he murmurs, trying to sound casual, failing miserably.

She listens all the way through. No interruptions, no jokes, no sideways glances. Just her eyes on the grass, her expression unreadable. When the song ends, she looks up at him, a smile tugging at her lips like she’s trying not to give him too much too fast. He braces himself.

She hands the phone back. “I love it. But there is absolutely no way that beautiful siren voice is yours.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “How dare you. I work hard for that voice.” His laugh breaks through the act.

“Prove it. Serenade me.” She flops onto her back in the grass, hands folded behind her head, looking up at him like she’s issuing a royal decree.

He drops beside her, mimicking her pose. “Google it. Look up Bad Omens. I’ll pop up in the pictures.”

“Nah,” she says, eyes still on the sky, “this is more fun.”

He turns his head toward her, one brow raised. “Alright, sassy. What do you do for a living?”

She rolls onto her side, elbow in the grass, chin propped in her palm. Her gaze locks onto his, playful and daring. “I’m the lead singer in a band. It’s called Good Omens.”

He stares at her for a beat, then shakes his head as a laugh escapes him, she amused him to say the least.

Church didn’t give him peace. Not even close. But it gave him her.

Your phone buzzed against the nightstand, a low vibration that tugged you out of the last threads of sleep. You cracked one eye open, lids heavy, vision blurry. The screen glowed in the dim room—Jason.

Nope. Not today. It’s seven-thirty in the morning.

You roll over, ignoring the persistent hum. The phone stays on silent until your alarm goes off—the one you set for Noah’s morning call. That’s the only sound you want to hear right now.

When the alarm finally chirps, you swipe it off and blink yourself awake. Three missed texts wait on the lock screen, Jason’s name stamped across each one like a warning label.

You aren’t taking her out of state to see your boy toy. That’s wildly inappropriate. She doesn’t need to be exposed to his lifestyle. She’s five, not fifteen. Answer your phone.

I’m not joking. I’m calling my lawyer today.

Three missed calls. Jason (3).

You stare at the screen, pulse ticking faster. The anger starts to rise, but before it can take root, the screen lights up again.

Noah.

His name flashes across the screen, and just like that, the tension drains from your chest. You swipe to answer, the corners of your mouth already lifting.

“Hey,” you murmured, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips the moment his face appeared. He looked unfairly handsome for this hour, soft brown eyes, hair a little messy, that familiar toothy grin brightening the whole screen like he’d been waiting for you.

“Good morning,” he said, voice warm and gentle. “Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to check on you and Theo.” He exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that carried worry. “Sounds like you guys had a couple rough days.”

You pushed yourself upright, leaning back against the wall as you brushed your hair out of your face. You knew you looked like a sleep‑rumpled disaster, but you didn’t care. Seeing him, seeing that expression he saved only for you, made the rest irrelevant.

“My tiny little twin,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. “God, she’s got the rage of her father and the emotions of her mother.” You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the weight of it settle. “She’s having a hard time understanding time, I think.” You pause. “I guess we’re all struggling a little bit.”

Noah’s face softened instantly, a sad shimmer in his eyes. “Is she still sleeping? I wanted to talk to her.”

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, stretching your toes against the cool floor. “I’ll wake her up. It’ll make her whole day to talk to you. Maybe she’ll stop being a terror.”

You stood, moving lazily toward Theo’s room, the phone still in your hand.

“Wait,” Noah said, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “Before you go in there… are you doing okay? You seem a little off. It’s hard to read you right now.”

You stop mid-step, the weight of his words pulling you back. Turning around, you head for your room, the exhaustion pressing down. “I’m okay,” you mumble, though the crack in your voice betrays you. “It’s just been hard. Emotions have been everywhere.” You sink onto the edge of the bed, fingers gripping the blanket. “I’m scared that maybe all of this was a bad idea.”

The words hang heavy in the air. You take a shaky breath, eyes stinging as you look away from the screen. The lack of sleep, Theo’s mood swings, Jason’s constant interference…it all crashes down at once.

Noah’s brows knit together, his posture stiffening. “What does that mean?” His voice is careful, but there’s panic underneath.

“I don’t know.” You lie back, staring at the ceiling. “It’s just that… you’ve been gone for ten days, and it’s already wearing on Theo and me. And you; what happens when you leave for months, Noah?”

He exhales, long and slow, rubbing the back of his neck. The confidence he had before this call falters. “I can’t tell the future,” he admits, voice low. “I don’t know what’s next. But I do know that I love you both. I want you and Theo in my life.” His throat tightens. “Please don’t do this. Don’t have second thoughts.”

You swallow hard, tears slipping free. “It’s hard not to. I don’t even know what this is anymore. You’re my friend who stays the night, treats me like a girlfriend, but can’t call me his girlfriend. Is it me?” Your voice trembles. “Is it because you’re still scared?”

Noah’s silence stretches, his jaw working as he searches for words. “I’m scared, yeah,” he admits finally. “But not of you. I’m scared of losing you. Of screwing this up. You and Theo, you’re the first thing that’s felt real in a long time.” He leans closer to the camera, eyes glassy. “I know I’m gonna be gone more often then I want to be. I know it’s hard. But I’m trying, I swear I am. I want to build something that lasts. I just need you to believe that I’m not going anywhere because I’m not.”

You press your lips together, torn between hope and heartbreak. “You say that now…”

He shakes his head, voice breaking. “No, I mean it. I’ve never been more sure of anything. You’re it for me.”

You wipe your eyes, trying to pull yourself together, but your voice still trembles when you speak.

Noah watches you quietly, his expression softening. “I guess I never gave it a title because…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “because I already thought of you as my girlfriend.”

You blink, startled, and before you can respond, his lips curve into that familiar crooked grin. “Alright, beautiful,” he says, slipping into the same dorky tone he used the night he asked for your number, complete with finger guns. “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

The laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it—half disbelief, half relief. “I mean, I guess… if you insist,” you tease, wiping the last of your tears. The air feels lighter now, the ache in your chest easing. “I’m sorry I freaked out,” you add softly, voice small but sincere.

“Hey,” he says, leaning closer to the camera, his eyes warm and steady. “It happens. It’s me and you against the world, alright? We’re human, we overthink, we spiral…but I never want you to feel like I don’t care. Or that you can’t tell me when something’s wrong.”

You nod, the words sinking deep. “I know.”

He smiles, that quiet kind of smile that feels like home. “Good. Because I meant what I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

You stand, the weight of the conversation finally lifting. The hallway feels calmer now, the house still and safe. You push open Theo’s door; the hinges creak softly. The room is dark except for the faint glow of the sun creeping through the curtains. She’s curled up under her blanket, a little bundle of peace after a long night.

“Theo,” you whispered, brushing her shoulder. “Baby, wake up. Someone wants to talk to you.”

She groaned dramatically, rolling onto her back. “Is it morning,” she mumbled, eyes barely open.

“Come here,” you said softly. “Look.”

You angled the phone toward her just as her eyes blinked open. For a second she stared, unfocused

Her whole body jolted upright.

“NOAH!” she squealed, instantly awake. She scrambled to sit, blanket falling off her shoulders.

“Theo!” he squeals back, the sound bright and bubbling. “How’s my girl?” He shifts around on his bunk, clearly searching for something. A second later, a familiar plush face pops into view beside his own.

“Princess wanted to say hi,” he announces proudly. “She said she missed you and really wanted to see you. And guess what? She went on stage last night! She got introduced to all our fans. She danced so much. I’ll send Mom some pictures.”

“Yay!” Theo claps her hands, her whole face lighting up. “That makes me happy!”

Noah settles Princess on his shoulder as he lies back, eyes sparkling. “Theo, guess what.”

“What!” she echoes, matching his excitement perfectly.

“Four more days until Princess and I come home!” His smile stretches wide. “We can’t wait to see you and Mom.”

Theo gasps, bouncing a little where she sits. “Four days! That’s so soon!”

“It is,” Noah says, his voice softening. He shifts Princess so she’s tucked under his chin, her little fabric crown tilted. “And Princess said she’s been practicing her ‘welcome home’ dance. She wants you to see it first.”

Theo wiggles with delight. “I’ll make her a sign! A big one! With sparkles!”

Noah laughs, “She’s gonna love that. And I will too.” There’s a beat where he just looks at her, that quiet, tender pause he always falls into when he’s trying not to get emotional. “I miss you, bug.”

Princess slips off his shoulder and he catches her dramatically, making Theo giggle. “See? She’s excited too.”

“Noah?” Theo pauses, her little brow furrowing in concentration. “You’re my best friend, but Mommy and I have to go ’cause I’m hungry.” She giggles, swinging her legs off the bed. “And I have to—” she stretches dramatically, arms reaching for the ceiling, “have Mommy do my hair ’cause I’m going to Grandma’s today!”

Her grin widens as she claps her hands together. “We’re going to the petting zoo!”

You laugh, watching her bounce with excitement. “Chop chop, Mommy, we gotta go!” she says, hopping up on the bed like she’s commanding an army. Then she turns back to the phone, her expression suddenly serious. “Noah, you aren’t mad we have to go, right?” Her eyes search the screen, earnest and wide.

Noah’s smile softens. “No, bug, I’m not mad. I hope you have the best time at the petting zoo. Pet a goat for me, okay?”

Theo nods solemnly, satisfied with his answer, then hops off the bed and scampers down the hall toward the bathroom. The sound of her laughter fades, leaving you alone with Noah again.

You sigh, smiling. “Oh, to be a mother.”

He chuckles, rubbing his eyes. “You’re doing a damn good job at it.”

You tilt your head, warmth creeping into your chest. “I guess I should get going.”

Noah yawns, stretching against the pillow. “I’m gonna catch a nap while the guys are out messing around,” he says, his voice thick with sleep. “Hey, babe… if you need to talk later, or anything, just let me know.”

You blink, a smile tugging at your lips. “Babe?”

He grins, half-asleep but still teasing. “I haven’t thought of your nickname yet—give me a break.”

You laugh softly. “Get some sleep, lover boy. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hums, eyes already closing. “Later, beautiful.”

“This was the best idea,” Lyla sighs, melting into the massage chair as it hums beneath her. You sink back too, letting the vibration roll through your shoulders. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

“Because we have kids, jobs, and a mountain of other crap I refuse to list right now…this is supposed to be relaxing.” You peel one of the cucumber slices off your eye and squint at it. “Do you think these are edible?”

You glance over just in time to see Lyla’s slices are gone.

“They are,” she says with a satisfied grin, chewing slowly. “And they’re so fresh.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you.”

The massage chairs gradually slow to a stop, leaving behind that pleasant hum in your bones. Two nail techs approach, trays of polish glinting under the soft salon lights. Today, you and Lyla had gone all in; the full pamper package: facials, massages, mani-pedis, the works.

“How’s Theo doing?” Lyla asks casually, then jerks her leg as the tech touches her foot. She winces, eyes wide. “Sorry! My feet are ticklish–-feel free to manhandle them.”

“Well, my boyfriend video chatted with us this morning so we’re doing better,” you say, dragging out the word boyfriend with a grin so big it practically hurts your cheeks.

Lyla’s head snaps toward you. “Oh shit, boyfriend?” she blurts, her voice pitching into a squeal that lands somewhere between a dolphin and a boiling kettle. Heads turn from nearby chairs, but she doesn’t care, she’s grinning like she just won the lottery.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah,” you admit, smiling. “But I’ve got something else I need to talk about…and I need your advice.” The smile fades as you exhale. “It’s about Jason.” You roll your eyes, already dreading the conversation.

Lyla groans, her shoulders slumping dramatically as she drops her chin into her hand. “What’s he done now?”

Her expression says it all; she knows this routine too well. Jason was never easy. He was the kind of man who left but never really left, always keeping tabs just close enough to remind you he existed. He couldn’t stay out of your life, not completely, not when Theo was involved.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “He’s been texting again. Acting like he suddenly wants to be ‘more involved,’ but it’s the same old story. He wants control, not connection with her.”

Lyla’s brows knit together, her voice softening. “He doesn’t get to play dad when it’s convenient. You’ve done all the work.”

You nod, staring down at your hands. “I know. It’s just… exhausting. Every time I think he’s finally done, he finds a new way to stir things up.” You pause, exhaling slowly. “I want to take Theo to see Noah. Jolly and I were talking about it, and I think it would be such a good experience for all of us. I wanted to go sooner, but you know… work.”

You sigh, rubbing your thumb against your palm. “Now he’s threatening me with a lawyer if I take her out of state. Which is ridiculous, I’m not moving, I’m literally going on a twenty-four-hour trip.”

The nail tech looks up from your feet, eyes wide. “They won’t do anything,” she says shyly, then glances away. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. We’re all just right here and I’ve been in that situation before…men.” She rolls her eyes.

You smile faintly. “It’s totally okay. Honestly, the less fearful I am, the less control he has.” You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “He just sucks.”

Lyla nods, her expression hardening. “Just go. Jason’s all bark, no bite. He’s mad because you’re happy and moving on.” She leans back, crossing her arms. “I wish he wasn’t Theo’s dad so you could be free of him and she could be free too.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You carefully slip it out, trying not to smear your polish. Jason’s name flashes across the screen. You turn it toward Lyla and the nail tech, both now fully invested in the saga.

“How does he know I’m talking about him?” you mutter, half laughing. “A literal demon.”

Lyla snorts. “Ignore it. Go on the trip. It’s not even his weekend.”

You stare at the phone for a moment, the vibration still humming against your palm. Then you press the side button, silencing it. The screen goes dark.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, more to yourself than anyone else. “I think I will.”

Lyla grins, triumphant. “That’s my girl.”

“Help, please,” she whines, leaning into you like the world is too heavy.

You smile and guide her finger across the letters. “Perfect. Now you get to pick which song.”

“Noah!” she squeals, jabbing her finger at one of the thumbnails.

“You want that one?” you ask, raising a brow.

“Yeah! Noah has pretty hair in that one. And Jolly’s got a ponytail.” She lifts her own hair halfway up, proudly mimicking him.

“Okay, but I don’t know if you know this version. It’s just Noah and Jolly—singing and guitar, I think.” You stand and hit play.

Theo tilts her head back, eyes glued to the screen, already mesmerized. You sink onto the couch, watching her sway side to side like she’s feeling every note.

The moment is too perfect not to share. You grab your phone, hit record, and catch the exact second Noah appears on screen.

Theo gasps, points wildly, and squeals, “It’s Noah, Mommy!” you try not to ruin the video with your giggles.

You know he’s going to melt when he sees this.

Your phone buzzes a few minutes after you send the video.

Straight to the heart.

You barely have time to smile before the typing bubbles appear again… then disappear… then come back. Classic Noah, he had too many feelings at once.

A moment later, your screen lights up with a voice message.

You press play.

There’s a soft breath first, like he wasn’t ready for what he just saw.

Then his voice, low and sincere, “Jesus… she’s so cute.”

Another pause. You can practically picture him running a hand over his face, trying to hide the smile even though no one’s there to see it.

“I wasn’t expecting her to squeal like that,” he says, and you can hear the grin creeping in. “She pointed at the screen like I was a superhero or something.”

There’s a quiet laugh, “I don’t think anyone’s ever been that excited to see my face.”

You hear rustling, like he’s shifting on his bunk, probably staring at the ceiling with that soft look he gets when he’s overwhelmed in a good way.

“She looks so happy,” he murmurs. “And she’s swaying to the music. That’s… I don’t know. That’s everything.”

Another breath. This one is deeper.

“And you…” His voice dips, softer. “You sound happy too. I miss your little giggles, I needed that.” There’s a beat where he almost says something else, something heavier…but he swallows it back. “Tell her I said hi,” he finishes, voice a little shy. “And that I miss her.” Then silence.

A second message pops up immediately after:

…and you. I miss you too. Let’s FaceTime this evening. I’ve got a little bit of time. I wanna see you two.

You smile down at the screen before typing back.

We miss you too. Tell me when and we’ll be there.

Oh and enjoy this picture of princes.

You smile at the photo, Noah’s face squished against Princess’s, his grin wide and ridiculous, the kind that makes you laugh out loud. “Theo,” you call softly, “Noah sent another picture.”

She spins around, eyes lighting up. “Ohh!” She toddles over, hopping onto the couch beside you. “Let me see!”

You hand her the phone, and she leans against you, giggling as she studies the picture. “Mommy?” she says, her voice small and thoughtful.

You glance down. “Yes?”

“I miss Noah… and Princess.”

Your heart squeezes. You wrap your arm around her, pulling her close until her head rests against your shoulder. “He misses us too, babe,” you whisper, smiling at the screen one more time before setting the phone aside. You don’t want to tell Theo about the FaceTime call, just in case something comes up with Noah. The last thing either one of you wants to do is break her heart.

She needs me too.

You stare down at the message, the words pulsing like they’re trying to crawl under your skin. Don’t overreact. Don’t lose your shit. Stay calm. He wants a reaction…he always wants a reaction. Breathe. Not today.

You set your phone down in the grass. The sun is warm on your shoulders, the air smells like summer chalk dust, and Theo is sprawled on the sidewalk beside you, happy as can be. Her arms are coated in pink and blue streaks, her shirt a full-blown abstract masterpiece.

“Look!” she announces, pointing proudly at the drawing she’s been working on with fierce concentration.

You crawl over to her, leaving your phone abandoned in the yard where it can’t touch this moment. “Ooooh, that’s so pretty, baby,” you say, letting your voice soften, letting her pull you back into the world that actually matters. “You should put a cloud at the bottom of the rainbow.”

Theo gasps like you’ve just given her the secret to the universe. “A cloud,” she repeats, already grabbing the white chalk. Her fingers move fast, determined, confident.

And as she draws, you sit there watching her, this tiny person who trusts you, who laughs with her whole body, who doesn’t know how heavy adults can make things.

You want to keep her like this forever…knees dusty, fingers stained with chalk, heart unbruised by people who don’t deserve to touch it. Safe from the world, and especially from the dad who pretends to care when it suits him.

“Theo?” you ask softly.

Her eyes flick up to you, bright and curious, pausing mid‑scribble like she’s hitting a mental save button.

“What do you wanna be when you grow up?” you ask. Not because you expect a final answer, she’s five, her dreams change with the weather, but because you want to peek inside that little mind of hers, see what colors she’s painting her future with today.

She shrugs, already returning to her rainbow. “I like animals. I think I should be a veterinarian. But I like to sing, so maybe I can be a singing veterinarian.” She says it with complete seriousness, like this is a perfectly logical career path.

A smile tugs at your mouth. “That sounds like a great plan.” You push your hair behind your ears, watching her with that familiar mix of pride and fear, pride because she’s brilliant and imaginative, fear because the world doesn’t deserve her softness.

Theo pauses again, tapping her chalk against the pavement. “Do you think animals like singing?” she asks, head tilted.

“I think the right ones would,” you say. “Especially if you’re the one singing.”

She beams at that, then she leans forward, adding a tiny cloud exactly where you suggested, humming under her breath as she works.

And for a moment, just a moment…you let yourself believe you can hold onto this. This quiet, innocent moment. This version of her that still believes every dream is possible and every goodbye is temporary.

Noah sat outside the bus, enjoying his break and getting some sun before the big show tonight. He patiently waited, phone in hand, waiting for you to answer the call, but much to his surprise, it wasn’t you who answered. It was Theo smiling back at him.

“Hi, Noah!” she squealed. “I answered ’cause Mommy’s hands are wet. We made cookies, and Mom said we made a huge mess. I don’t think it’s that messy, but I got flour all over the floor… and then I wiped my hands on my shirt.” She tilted the phone down proudly, showing off the powdered streaks across her black shirt.

Before Noah could even get a word in, she was off again, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I was listening to your band earlier! I wish I could scream like you. That would be so funny! Then we could scream together.” She giggled, then added with a shy smile, “Maybe I can get drawings on my arms too, I wanna be like you!”

Noah laughed, the sound soft, but he melted at his core. Theo saying she wanted to be like him meant so much more than he could ever express. He would try to be the best role model he could. “You’d look pretty cool with drawings on your arms,” he said, leaning back against the bus. “But maybe wait till you’re a little older, yeah?”

“YES!” You yelled from the kitchen, “No tattoos till your frontal lobe has developed.”

Theo shrugged. “I don’t know what that means.”

He grinned, changing the subject. “Hey, I bet your cookies are way better than mine. You’ll have to save me one next time.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ll save you two!”

Noah chuckled, shaking his head. “Deal. Two cookies sound perfect, maybe you can teach me and I’ll clean up instead of mom.”

“Alright, Theo, can I talk to Noah for a minute?” you ask, drying your hands on the kitchen towel. “I think all I’ve done today is dishes—Mom deserves a reward.” You tease, flashing her a grin.

Theo’s face scrunches in protest, clearly reluctant to give up the phone. She sighs dramatically. “Bye, Noah. I miss you!” she says, handing it over before darting back to the living room, her cartoon already calling her name.

“I miss you more!” Noah calls after her.

When your face appears on the screen, his expression softens instantly. The exhaustion from tour life fades just a little. Even through the distance, you have that effect on him. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, his grin wide and toothy.

“Well, hello there.” You start toward your room, craving a bit of quiet for the conversation. “How’s everything going?”

He shrugs, leaning back against the bus. “It’s good, but I’m tired. Haven’t been sleeping much. Feeling a little down, but…” he smiles faintly, “the show must go on.”

You nod, settling onto the edge of the bed. “You always make it look easy.”

He chuckles softly, eyes flicking toward the camera. “Only because I’ve got you keeping me sane. Now, fill me in, what’s been happening since I’ve been gone these last four days?”

“Drama, I’ll spare you,” you mutter, belly-flopping onto the bed with a sigh.

“No,” Noah says, his tone gentle but firm. “Tell me all of it. Catch me up.” A small smile tugs at his lips. “I’ve got time.”

You stare at the ceiling for a moment, debating how much to share. “Jason’s been asking to see Theo more,” you begin, voice heavy with frustration. “And I don’t feel like it’s the right thing for her…but legally, I can’t hold her hostage, you know?” You exhale, rubbing your forehead. “He gets her every other weekend if he really wants to. I guess I should be happy he’s only willing to take her for a day or two.”

You glance at the screen. Noah’s expression has already hardened, his jaw tight with annoyance.

“He asked if I wanted to go with them,” you continue, “so I could see that he’s ‘trying.’”

Noah rolls his eyes, disgust clear in his voice. “Why is he trying now?”

You hesitate, then say quietly, “Theo was talking to him on the phone, rattling off words like she always does. I heard her mention how much she misses you, and that I miss you.” You close your eyes, trying not to let the anger rise again. “I think he’s jealous. Now he wants to play dad again, just so he can tell everyone he’s a good father and that there isn’t a better man helping me raise her.”

You roll onto your back, holding the phone above your face. “Then Theo got excited, she was so happy he wanted to do something with just her. It gets her hopes up, but I know later it’s gonna turn into tears and heartbreak.”

Noah’s silence stretches for a moment, his eyes softening. “You’re doing everything right, even when it’s hard. That’s what matters.”

You smile faintly, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, well… it doesn’t always feel like it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer to the camera. “Hey. You’re the strongest person I know. Theo’s lucky to have you, and I’m damn lucky too. I hate that I’m not there to help.”

Your chest tightens. “You help more than you think,” you whisper.