You, Cade, and Luke had been invited to a kid’s birthday party—one of those loud, sun-soaked backyard affairs where the air smelled like chlorine and barbecue smoke, and the noise never really dipped below a cheerful roar. Balloons bobbed lazily against the fence, kids sprinted past with dripping hair and popsicles, and the pool erupted every few seconds with shrieks of laughter.

You sat off to the side on a lawn chair near the edge of the yard, one leg crossed over the other, a cold drink sweating in your hand. You weren’t fully tuned into the chaos—just enough to keep an eye on things. Cade had drifted toward the grill a while ago, laughing with another parent, but you could feel his awareness stretching back toward Luke like a tether. He always did that—talked, joked, relaxed, but never stopped watching his kid.

You were just taking a sip when you heard it.

Soft footsteps. Uneven. Followed by a small, broken sniffle.

You looked up.

Luke was walking toward you slowly, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around himself. His clothes were completely soaked, sticking to his small frame, water dripping off the hem of his shirt and onto the grass. His cheeks were flushed bright pink, tears tracking down his face as his bottom lip trembled like he was trying—and failing—not to cry.

Your heart clenched instantly.

“Hey,” you said softly, setting your drink down without a second thought. You stood and crouched in front of him, bringing yourself to his level. “Hey, buddy. Come here.”

Luke hesitated for half a second before stepping closer. You gently took his arms, your hands warm against his cold, wet skin.

“Brr,” you murmured, rubbing his arms up and down. “You’re freezing.”

“I—” His voice cracked, and that was all it took. The tears spilled over as he shook his head. “They splashed me, and—and I didn’t wanna go under…”

“It’s okay,” you said immediately, steady and calm. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

You brushed damp hair away from his forehead, careful and gentle. “Did you slip, or did someone push you?”

Luke sniffed. “I slipped. And my towel’s gone.”

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “Towels can be replaced. You can’t.” You gave him a small smile. “Let’s get you warm, yeah?”

He nodded, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

You opened your arms, and he stepped right into them. You pulled him close, holding him securely against your chest as he buried his face into your shoulder. You felt the tension slowly leave his body as you rubbed slow, soothing circles on his back.

“You’re doing really good,” you murmured. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Luke’s sobs softened into quiet hiccups.

From across the yard, Cade had gone still.

Conversation near the grill faded into background noise as his attention locked onto the scene in front of him. He watched you crouched there, fully soaked kid clinging to you, your posture protective, your voice low and steady. He saw the way Luke trusted you without hesitation—how easily his son melted into your arms like that was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Cade didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush over.

He just watched.

“You wanna sit for a second?” you asked Luke quietly. “We can grab you a dry towel and maybe a hoodie.”

“Okay,” Luke said, voice small but calmer now.

You helped him sit on the edge of the chair, keeping a hand on his shoulder as you called out, “Cade?”

That finally snapped Cade out of it. He looked up and met your eyes across the yard.

“He got splashed,” you said gently. “Any chance there’s a spare towel or shirt in the car?”

Cade nodded immediately. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got one.” He was already moving before he finished speaking.

As he walked past you on the way to the car, his gaze lingered for just a second—on your hand resting on Luke’s back, on the way Luke leaned into you without even thinking.

Something warm and unfamiliar settled in his chest.

By the time Cade returned, Luke was calmer, wrapped in a towel you’d borrowed from the host. You took the dry shirt from Cade and helped Luke pull it on, chatting softly the whole time.