Willow attached herself to Eli almost immediately, and Eli softened around her in a way Jack had never seen before. Rosalind fit in more easily than Jack wanted to admit. And the timelines kept circling in his head. Eight years. The mountains. A child the right age. The possibility of Willow being his was enough to break something open in him.
It was Eli who pushed the rest forward. One night, after Willow had fallen asleep upstairs, he stood in the kitchen doorway and said quietly, “It feels nice.” Jack looked up. “What does?” “Having people here.” That was all. After that, it became easier to say yes. Yes to toothbrushes in the bathroom that weren’t his or Eli’s.