I folded my arms over my chest, remaining in the shadow of the beam that stretched to the ceiling as I watched my wife stumble to the side, breathing hard and already worn out.

We trained at Sensou several times a week. She was in great shape. Or should’ve been.

My father approached her, dressed in loose black pants with more sweat matting the salt and pepper hair to his forehead.

He pulled her back up and stared down at her. “Close your eyes.”

Her back was to me, but she must not have listened, because he said it again.

“Close your eyes,” he urged.

She stood there, and after a moment, I noticed her shoulders square and her breathing even out.

“In,” he said, inhaling with her. “Out.”

A smile pulled at my lips as a few snowflakes fluttered to the still ground outside the windows.

I remembered this lesson.

“Again,” he said.

They both inhaled and exhaled slowly as he waited for Banks’s mind to clear.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed.

Her arms hung at her side, and she continued her steady breathing.

“Do you see me?” he asked. “Do you still have the picture of me in front of you in your head?”

“Yes,” I heard her reply.

“What do you see?”

She hesitated.

“What do you see exactly?” he clarified.

“Your eyes.”

“And?”

“Your face.”

He studied her for a moment and then continued. “Zoom out. Now what do you see?”

“The…the room around you?” she answered.

He inched in, calming his voice. “Breathe,” he whispered. “What else do you see? Make me move.”

She cocked her head a little, like she was watching a scene in her head. “Your arms and legs.”

“And?”

“Your feet,” she said. “They shift.”

Finally, he nodded as if she’d finally seen what he wanted her to see. “If you look too closely, you won’t see anything. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

She needed to see but not specifically, as if everything in her vision, even the peripheral, was the focus. I saw them, but I also saw Frost, my mother’s cat breathing quietly on the rafter above. I could see Banks and my father facing each other, but also the snowflakes almost floating in the air outside.

“Open your eyes,” he instructed.

He took a step back and fell into a fighting stance. “Zoom out.”

Before she could move into position, he stepped and threw a fist. She shot her hand up and knocked it away, and then quickly dodged another fist as it came in.

I smiled.

And then, they were at it. She jumped into a stance, and in less than a moment, fists and feet flew everywhere. Arms and legs swept, flying, and grunts filled the room as he caught her thigh and she landed a fist in his side.

They moved, Banks advancing on him and then him on her, their steps flitting across the mat as they circled each other. One hand knocked away a fist before the other came in and pushed away another.

I couldn’t follow what each of them were even doing, they were moving so fast. Arm up, wrist hitting wrist, and then the kicks flying through the air only to be defended.

It was like a dance.

My heart pounded as I watched a smile cross my father’s face, my breath stopping for a moment, and then…

He stumbled back a couple of steps, she came in with another punch, and he caught her wrists just in time, stopping her.

He smiled, Banks frozen, as hard breaths filled the room and she stared at my dad.

Jesus. He’d stopped first. She’d worn him out.

I covered my smile with my hand, pride swelling my heart. Soon, Mads and Jett would be just like that, and while I’d never anticipated danger in our future, I knew it was possible. I breathed easier, knowing my family was at least a little prepared for anything that might come.

But not tonight. Tonight was for partying.

Releasing her, he straightened and walked up to her, taking her shoulders. They hadn’t acknowledged my presence, but my father probably knew I was here.

Her body moved up and down as she tried to catch her breath.

He gazed down. “Good,” he said in a gentle voice.

She stared up at him, but then I saw her head drop and her jaw flex.

“Now go have fun tonight,” he told her.

I pushed myself off the wall and walked over to Banks as she turned and met my eyes. Tears hung in hers, and she quickly looked away as my father headed out the way I came in, nodding as he passed me.

Tipping her chin up, I looked down at her beautiful face, glowing with a light layer of sweat and her green eyes glistening.

She glanced after my father, Jett passing him in the rock garden and giving her grandfather a salute as he passed. He returned the gesture.

“You’re very lucky, you know?” Banks said, her voice shaking. “He’s proud of you.”

I touched her face.

“You’re so lucky,” she said again, and I could hear the crack in her voice.

Bringing her in, I kissed her forehead as she shook with more tears.

“He’s proud of you, too,” I whispered.

Taking her in my arms, I held her tightly, hating all the memories she didn’t have. How she’d suffered without parents, and how much I’d taken for granted. My father was never particularly warm, but he was far from Evans Crist or Gabriel fucking Torrance. He was a good man, and she was more than thirty years old before she got to know what a real father felt like.

“He’s so proud of you, baby,” I told her again.

Warm or not, my father was never not here for any of us. We were all lucky.

Jett approached, her arms wrapping around us—as far as she could reach anyway—and joined in on the hug. I chuckled, holding my girls.

After a moment, Banks dried her eyes and drew in a deep breath, pulling back a little.

She looked down at our daughter. “Help me with my makeup?” she asked.

But I stopped them right there, telling Jett instead, “Actually, go ask Grandma how to repot a chestnut,” I said. “I need to help Mommy with her shower first.”

“Kai…” Banks chided.

What? I gaped at her. What were grandparents for anyway?

“Aren’t you cold?” Banks slipped her arms around mine, hugging me for warmth.

I inhaled the crisp, evening air and blew out the steam, taking in the snow hanging on the evergreens and the bare, black branches of the maples stretching up into the night sky.

“I love it,” I told her, listening as we stood outside my parents’ house an hour later. “Everything is so quiet.”

I looked down at her, admiring how it barely took her any time at all to get dressed. Her red strapless gown glittered, stunning with her dark hair curled and pinned to the side at the nape of her neck. She was gorgeous.

She and Jett had both decorated their faces, looking like cute clowns with white diamond shapes over their eyes and jewels glued to the points.

I threw the black cloak around her and tied it as she dug into the inside pocket and pulled on her gloves.

“The cold slows the spread of molecules,” I explained. “Less pollution. The air is so clean.”