84
~Eva’s POV
I finally got home and moved on autopilot.
Ronan’s shoes came off first, then his jacket, his chatter filling the space where my thoughts did not want to sit. I changed his clothes, slower than usual, smoothing the fabric as if it mattered more than it did. I fed him after. Watched him eat with the seriousness only children have, as if finishing his food was a responsibility entrusted to him alone. I smiled. Encouraged him. Told him he did well.
Only then did I change my own clothes.
We played for a while. On the floor. With toys, I had stepped over a hundred times without really seeing. He laughed. Climbed on me. Asked questions that went nowhere and everywhere at once. For a moment, just a moment, I forgot the smoke in the living room, the words Dylan had thrown earlie
