And there it is.
“Miller—”
“Don’t tell him I said that.”
“Love isn’t earned. Monty gave up his career because he loves you unconditionally. You don’t have to pay him back by chasing accolades. That’s not how it works.”
“You don’t get it, Kai. He gave up his entire life for me and he barely knew me. It’s why I don’t want you to retire yet. I don’t want Max to feel like a burden the way I did.”
“Miller.” My tone is a bit sharp, mostly because I don’t like her talking about herself in that way. “I can’t think of a single person who would feel burdened by having you in their life.”
“You did. When I first got here.”
“Well, I changed my mind. Now I just feel lucky.”
She doesn’t have anything to say to that, so silence stretches between us for a long while.
“If I quit, I’d feel like a failure.” Miller’s voice shockingly cracks a bit, so I pull her into me, allowing her to speak her mind, drunkenly or not. “I thought I just needed a break this summer to get my groove back, but it doesn’t simply feel like burnout anymore. It feels like I’ve spent my whole life chasing a career that I’m realizing, regardless of the awards and the prestige, isn’t all that fulfilling. And over the last seven weeks I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been, chasing Max around, spending time with my dad, being with you.”
“Mills, you’re twenty-five. You could change directions a hundred more times in your life, and you’d still never be a failure. You’re too hard of a worker to ever be considered a failure. Life is meant to be spent chasing happiness.”
She pauses and when she speaks again, it’s simply a hiccup and the words, “I’m almost twenty-six.”
I crane my neck to look down at her. “Define almost.”
“I’ll be twenty-six this week.”
“Miller, when exactly is your birthday?”
“Saturday.”
Four days. Her birthday is in four days.
“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s the day before you leave.”
She shrugs against me. “I’ve never really had anyone to tell, I guess.”
God, I know that sentiment all too well.
I pull her in closer. We’re more alike than I ever thought possible. We’ve gone through our adult lives alone. Me because of the cards I was dealt and Miller because she has a hard time growing attachments when she bounces from city to city.
“Do you want more kids?” she asks, and the sudden change of subject startles me awake.
“Jesus. How drunk are you?”
“Just a little tipsy. That Big Mac really soaked it all up. Answer my question, Rhodes. Do you want more babies?”
If she would’ve asked me this back in June, the answer would have been a resounding no. Mostly because I didn’t think I was doing a very good job with the one I already have, but spending the last seven weeks feeling like a family with the girl by my side has changed my view on it all.
If it were with her, the answer would be, “Yeah, I do.”
She flips onto her belly, laying on me. “Yeah?”
“Yes. But next time, I’ll be there for it all. I’ll never miss six months again.”
She crosses her arms over my chest, resting her chin there. “You deserve that. You also make really pretty babies, so you should keep doing that.”
Chuckling, I tuck away the hairs that are falling out of her bun. “Do you want kids one day?”
“I never thought about it before, if I’m being honest. I’ve always been focused on the next goal, the next career move, and families aren’t exactly conducive to high-end restaurant life. But if my life was different, I could see it. As long as they were exactly like Max.”
My smile is soft. “He’s a good one.”
“The best one,” she says with a sigh. “Kai?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we forget about some of my rules? For the rest of the week while I’m here? I just want to know what it’d feel like.”
“You want to know how what feels like?”
“To be yours.”
Watching her, I search for any sign she might take those words back when she’s sober, but Miller’s eyes are clear and bright. So, I lean down and press my lips to hers, kissing her in a way that isn’t related to sex. Kissing her in a way that feels attached and full of strings because that’s exactly what I am when it comes to her.