Page 15 of Safe With You

I looked up flatly. “Please find something else to do.”

“That good, huh?”

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile still pulled at my mouth anyway.

“Dad.”

I opened one eye.

“Dad.”

The small hand pressing against my cheek grew more aggressive.

“Daaaaad.”

I exhaled slowly before opening both eyes and finding my daughter standing beside the bed with her hands on her hips and an expression that looked entirely too irritated for seven in the morning.

“Mila,” I said, my voice rough with sleep. “Why are you standing over me like a debt collector waiting to collect a debt?”

“Because you said we could make pancakes.”

I glanced toward the alarm clock.

7:12 a.m.

“You woke me up eighteen minutes early for pancakes?”

“You said we could make pancakes on a school day if I was good yesterday, and I was.”

“I did.”

“Then why are you still in bed?”

I stared at her for a moment before rubbing a hand over my face.

There were some arguments you could win as a parent.

This wasn’t one of them.

“Give me five minutes.”

“You said that yesterday, and we were late for school.”

I sat up. “And somehow you survived.”

Mila grinned before taking off down the hallway.

The sound of her feet hitting the hardwood floor echoed through the house.

For a second, I remained where I was.

The house was quiet except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and Mila talking to herself from the living room. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft gold across the walls.

Three years ago, I wasn’t sure I’d ever appreciate mornings again.

Three years ago, silence had felt different.

Heavier.