“Daddy!” The doo
 
 r flew open.
 
 “Hey.” I pulled him into my arms. “Do you have your bag packed?”
 
 He pointed to the couch. “Yes. Two. I’m two.”
 
 I laughed. “Yep. You’re two.” I counted five bags. Looked like Amber had collected more toys than clothes.
 
 She walked down the hallway. “Hey. You ready?”
 
 I nodded. “Yes. Looks like we’ll be putting the train set together.”
 
 “He loves the trains.”
 
 She rubbed the top of his sandy blond hair.
 
 “I appreciate this, Cole.”
 
 I slung a bag over my shoulder. “He’s my son, Amber. You don’t have to thank me.”
 
 I saw her wipe the corner of her eyes with her index finger. “I know. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant for everything. Supporting me so I can write.”
 
 I held back my laugh. She wasn’t a writer.
 
 “Of course. Whatever you need.”
 
 She smiled. “I remember when you were still in the Corps and I told you I’d wait for you during deployments. It’s like that I guess.”
 
 I stopped loading the train set. “It’s not like that.” I eyed her. “I’m not waiting for you to come home.”
 
 Grayson had plopped himself in front of the TV. That was one thing I had to work on. She gave him way too much screen time. I wanted him to be outside. Even if it was a hundred degrees.
 
 “Ok. But you and Grayson will be here when I get back.”
 
 “Right. But I just don’t want you to think it’s something else, Amber. I’m doing this for my son.”
 
 She crossed her arms. “Ok. Ok. I get it. It’s not for me. You don’t have to hurt my feelings on purpose.”
 
 I sighed. “I’m not trying to do that. Why don’t I take this to the truck and I’ll be back to get Grayson?” I walked to the door and rode the elevator.
 
 The sooner I had the new custody papers drawn up the safer I was. Amber could change her mind tomorrow and decide she’d rather be a chef in Hawaii or a cruise ship performer even though she couldn’t sing.
 
 I placed Grayson’s bags in the backseat, careful not to let the tracks spill on the floor. I made a second trip up the elevator.
 
 I walked inside the apartment.
 
 “Ok. I’m set.”
 
 Amber knelt next to our son. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Ok?”
 
 He hugged her. “You too, Mommy.”
 
 It was like shoving a dagger between my ribs. It didn’t matter that I didn’t love her, or that I never had. Watching a boy separated from his mother was painful. I took him by the hand.
 
 Amber waved from the kitchen and blew us each a kiss.
 
 I pretended to catch one for Grayson and pressed it into his chubby cheek.