My Love: Mr Sergeant

Sara



The rest of the day went well as I answered about two calls before picking Karis up from the daycare.



I hadn't planned on staying at work long anyway, as I was anxious about seeing the lady from the day-care who has recently been making my now fragile heart flutter, a small, unwelcome warmth I couldn't quite shake off.



I gathered my things, grabbed my keys off the desk, and headed for the door, waving a quick goodbye to a few colleagues on my way out.





I stepped down from the car after making sure there was no disarrangement on my face or uniform, running a quick hand over my collar and smoothing down the front of my shirt before shutting the door behind me and locking it with a soft beep.





"Dada!" I heard my baby yell as she rushed to hug me, her little legs carrying her across the yard faster than I expected. 



I crouched down to receive the hug, arms already open for her, letting her small frame collide into mine.



"How is my baby doing?" I asked, tugging gently at her cheek, brushing a stray curl away from her forehead.



"I'm fine, Dada," she said, beaming up at me.



"Good evening, Mr. Woods," I heard Sara say.

She had gotten closer during my enjoyable moment with Karis, stepping up quietly while I was still crouched down, her presence catching me slightly off guard.



"Good evening, miss," I said, straightening up to my full height. 

I took my hand out for a handshake, smiling.



"You came quite early today, hope you didn't have to rush down."



I chuckled, shifting Karis's bag onto my shoulder.

"I finished my call quite early, that's why."



"Ohh, that's good," she said, and I admired her cute face as she smiled brightly, the kind of smile that seemed to catch me off guard every single time, no matter how many times I told myself I was prepared for it.



"Have a good night rest," she said, and broke the handshake, her fingers slipping easily from mine.



Oh, I didn't realize I was still holding her hand, I thought, feeling a small flush of embarrassment creep up my neck.



"Ohh, goodnight then," I offered, grinning, and turned to gather Karis's little bag properly from the bench beside the door before we made our way back to the car, Karis skipping ahead of me the whole way.



Karis was already in by the time I entered the car. All through the ride home, even as I had to listen and reply to Karis's unending questions about her day, about the crayons she'd used, about a friend who'd shared her snack, Sara was on my mind.



I don't know if it seems I fell in love in the space of just three months, or how she just seems to draw my attention with her simplicity, the way she carries herself so effortlessly, like she isn't trying to be anything other than herself, and somehow that was more disarming than anything Betty had ever done.





Immediately after tucking Karis into bed and wishing her a goodnight, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she drifted off, a message popped up on my screen, the buzz startling me slightly.





"Yo man, how is it going? Don't forget the file tomorrow. Hope Karis's good!"



I smiled faintly, thumb hovering over the keyboard for a moment before typing. 



"All good, ya, I won't," I replied. 



Peter has been my buddy from day one, always supportive, my trouble always seems like his, I'm really grateful for this friendship.



I set the phone down on the nightstand afterward, the glow of the screen fading into the dark of the room, I let out a long breath I didn't realize I'd been holding all day.



The apartment was quiet again, the good kind of quiet this time with Karis's soft breathing carrying faintly down the hallway from her room, the sound somehow more comforting than usual tonight.



I thought about Sara's smile again before I could stop myself, the way it had reached her eyes so easily, so unguarded, nothing like the practiced warmth I'd grown used to expecting from people over the years. 



I shook my head at myself, a small laugh escaping under my breath, pulling the blanket up as I reached over to switch off the lamp.



Three months.



It really hadn't been that long, and yet somehow the day-care runs had become the part of my day I looked forward to most, more than I was willing to admit out loud, even to Peter, who would never let me hear the end of it.



I lay back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling, letting my mind wander over the activities of the day, the handshake, the way she'd smiled at me, the warmth of Karis's hand in mine on the walk back to the car, replaying the small moment over and over like it meant something bigger than it probably did.





Tomorrow I'll remember the file. 



Tomorrow I'd go in, hand it over before Peter had the chance to tease me about it again, pick Karis up early like I always tried to, and maybe, just maybe, I'd let myself linger a second longer than necessary at the day-care gate, just to catch that smile one more time.



For now, though, I let my eyes close, the weight of the day finally settling off my shoulders, replaced by something lighter, something that felt a little like hope creeping back in where I hadn't expected to find room for it, curling up quietly in the corner of my chest and refusing to leave.



What a day it was