Updated Apr 16, 2026 • ~12 min read
Chapter 16: The Routine
Matthias
Three months into regular visitation, Matthias’s life has developed a rhythm he never expected—Tuesdays and Thursdays at six o’clock have expanded to include Saturdays and Sundays, four visits a week that have gradually extended from one hour to two, sometimes three when Luna doesn’t enforce the original boundaries with the same strictness she did at the beginning, and Matthias has become part of Sofia’s routine in ways that feel miraculous every single time.
Dinner has become a regular occurrence despite Sofia’s initial request being politely declined—Luna eventually relented when Sofia asked every single visit for two weeks straight if “Matti” could stay to eat, and now Matthias often finds himself at Luna’s small kitchen table helping Sofia with kid-sized portions of whatever simple meal Luna has prepared, learning that his daughter will eat vegetables if they’re “hidden” in pasta sauce but refuses them if they’re visible, that she likes her food arranged in specific ways on her plate, that she insists on saying a little thank-you before eating that Luna taught her.
Playtime has evolved beyond blocks and coloring books to include elaborate pretend scenarios where Matthias is assigned roles (usually the dragon who gets defeated, sometimes the prince who needs rescuing, once memorably the talking tree who gives directions to the castle), and he’s learned to embrace the ridiculousness of it, to commit fully to whatever character Sofia assigns him because her delighted giggling when he uses his “dragon voice” is worth any amount of dignity he sacrifices in the process.
And bedtime stories—Matthias’s favorite part of every visit—have become his responsibility on the days he stays late enough, Luna trusting him to handle the sacred ritual of tucking Sofia in while she cleans up from dinner or catches up on work emails or takes the rare moment of quiet for herself.
“Matti, you have to do the voices,” Sofia instructs from her toddler bed, clutching her stuffed elephant (the expensive one from his first disastrous visit, which has ironically become her favorite despite her initial indifference to it). “The bunny talks like this—” she demonstrates a high-pitched squeak “—and the bear talks like this—” a lower growl.
“Like this?” Matthias attempts, reading the familiar story about forest animals having a party, and Sofia nods approvingly.
“Better than last time,” she says with the kind of honest critique that Matthias has learned to expect from his daughter, who inherited either his bluntness or Luna’s straightforwardness and uses it liberally.
He loves it.
Loves that Sofia feels comfortable enough with him to offer criticism, to demand better performances, to treat him like a permanent fixture in her life instead of a visitor who needs to be impressed—and he especially loves the nickname she’s given him, “Matti,” because she can’t quite pronounce “Matthias” and the shortened version came out one day and stuck, feeling more intimate than “Mr. Wolfe” and more personal than “Dad” which she still doesn’t know he is.
Soon, though.
That conversation is coming soon—Luna promised during their Saturday coffee date three weeks ago (which has become a regular thing, time for them to talk about Sofia and co-parenting and gradually, carefully, about themselves and what they are to each other beyond parents of the same child) that once Sofia seems solidly bonded to him, once the relationship feels secure and stable, they’ll tell her the truth together.
Matthias finishes the story, and Sofia’s eyes are already drooping with sleep, her small body relaxed against her pillow in that boneless way that children achieve when they’re completely comfortable, completely safe.
“Goodnight, Sofia,” Matthias says softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead—a gesture that still makes his chest tight with overwhelming love because he gets to do this, gets to be part of her nighttime routine, gets to tuck his daughter into bed and wish her sweet dreams.
“Goodnight, Matti,” Sofia mumbles, already half-asleep. “See you Saturday?”
“See you Saturday,” Matthias confirms, and he waits until her breathing evens out into the deep rhythm of sleep before turning off her bedside lamp and quietly leaving her room.
Except he doesn’t quite make it out of the room because Sofia stirs when he stands up, makes a small distressed sound, and Matthias freezes—but instead of waking fully, Sofia just reaches out one small hand in a clear request, and Matthias finds himself sitting back down on the edge of her bed, then shifting to the small armchair in the corner when Sofia won’t quite settle.
“Stay,” Sofia murmurs without fully waking, and Matthias doesn’t have the heart to leave when his daughter is asking him to stay, when she’s reaching for him in her half-asleep state like his presence is the thing that makes her feel secure.
So he settles into the uncomfortable chair (designed for aesthetic more than adult comfort, clearly) and watches Sofia sleep, cataloging the rise and fall of her chest and the way her curls spread across her pillow and the peaceful expression on her face that speaks to a child who feels safe and loved and protected.
He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe ten minutes, maybe thirty—but eventually Sofia’s breathing deepens into the kind of sleep that won’t be disturbed by movement, and Matthias carefully extracts himself from the chair and leaves her room, pulling the door almost-closed the way Luna showed him Sofia likes it (not fully closed because that’s scary, not fully open because the light from the hallway is too bright, just slightly ajar so she can hear that she’s not alone).
Luna is on the couch when Matthias emerges from the short hallway, her laptop open but clearly ignored in favor of watching the baby monitor that shows Sofia’s room, and when she looks up at him there’s something soft in her expression, something that makes Matthias’s heart rate spike with an awareness that has nothing to do with fatherhood and everything to do with the fact that Luna is beautiful and he’s never quite gotten over her.
“She fell asleep on you,” Luna observes, and it’s not quite a question.
“Not on me, exactly,” Matthias clarifies, sitting on the opposite end of the couch because proximity to Luna feels dangerous lately, makes him hyperaware of her in ways that complicate their carefully constructed co-parenting dynamic. “I was sitting in the chair. She wanted me to stay.”
“She really trusts you now,” Luna says, and there’s something complicated in her voice—pride that Matthias has earned Sofia’s trust, maybe lingering fear that he’ll betray it, perhaps awareness of how much has changed in three months from supervised visits with a timer to Matthias being part of bedtime routines and family dinners.
“I won’t betray that trust,” Matthias says seriously, holding Luna’s gaze across the small living room. “Hers or yours.”
The addition of “or yours” changes something in the air between them, makes the moment shift from conversation about Sofia to acknowledgment of whatever is building between the two of them, the chemistry that never quite died despite four years apart and all the hurt and miscommunication that should have killed it.
Luna doesn’t look away, and Matthias can see her breathing change, can see awareness flicker in her dark eyes, can feel the pull between them that’s been getting stronger with every Saturday coffee date and every shared moment watching Sofia play and every time their hands accidentally brush when they’re both reaching for the same thing.
“Luna—” Matthias starts, not sure what he’s about to say but needing to acknowledge this thing between them, this attraction that’s evolving into something deeper.
“We should talk about this,” Luna interrupts, but she doesn’t sound upset, just careful, like someone navigating dangerous terrain. “About what we’re doing. What we are to each other.”
“What do you want us to be?” Matthias asks, because he knows what he wants—wants Luna and Sofia and family, wants to wake up in the same home as his daughter, wants to fall asleep next to the woman who’s haunted his thoughts for four years—but what Luna wants might be entirely different, might stop at friendly co-parenting without the complication of romance.
“I don’t know,” Luna admits, and the honesty of it is somehow more hopeful than if she’d given him a definitive answer. “I spent four years angry at you. Then you came back and I spent weeks terrified you’d take Sofia from me. And now…” she pauses, searching for words. “Now I watch you with her and I don’t know how to protect myself from wanting things I’m scared to want.”
“What things?” Matthias presses gently, leaning slightly forward without quite closing the distance between them.
“You,” Luna whispers. “This. A family that’s more than just coordinated custody schedules. But Matthias, you hurt me once—”
“I didn’t mean to,” Matthias interrupts, because they’ve had this conversation multiple times but he needs her to understand. “I would never have left if I’d known. And I’m not leaving now. Not Sofia, not you, not this thing we’re building together.”
“How do I trust that?” Luna asks, and her voice cracks slightly with vulnerability that makes Matthias want to cross the couch and pull her into his arms, to prove through touch what words can’t quite convey.
“You watch me,” Matthias says simply. “You’ve been watching me for three months. Have I given you any reason to doubt my commitment? Have I missed a single visit? Have I been anything less than completely devoted to being in Sofia’s life?”
“No,” Luna admits. “You’ve been… perfect. Too perfect, almost. Like it can’t be real.”
“It’s real,” Matthias says, and he does move then, shifts closer on the couch until there’s less than a foot between them, until he can see the flecks of gold in Luna’s dark eyes and the way her breath hitches when he gets near. “My feelings for Sofia are real. And my feelings for you—they never stopped being real, Luna. I never got over you. Four years, dozens of dates with other women, and I never stopped comparing them to you and finding them lacking.”
“Matthias—” Luna breathes, and she’s leaning toward him now whether she realizes it or not, her body betraying what her words are still too scared to claim.
“I’m not asking you to make any decisions tonight,” Matthias continues, forcing himself to maintain control when what he really wants is to kiss her, to find out if the chemistry he remembers is still there or if four years and complicated circumstances have diluted it into something manageable. “I’m just asking you to consider the possibility. That we could be something. Not just for Sofia’s sake, but for ours.”
“I’ll consider it,” Luna says, and there’s a tremor in her voice that suggests she’s been considering it for a while already, that this conversation is confirmation more than revelation.
They sit there for a long moment, close enough to touch but not quite touching, the air between them charged with possibility and the old attraction that apparently survives everything they’ve thrown at it—and then Sofia makes a sound through the baby monitor, not quite waking but enough to remind them both that there are stakes here beyond just their own hearts, that whatever they build together has to account for the three-year-old sleeping down the hall.
“I should go,” Matthias says, even though he doesn’t want to, even though he’d gladly sit on this couch all night just being near Luna and watching her face in the soft lamplight.
“Okay,” Luna agrees, but she doesn’t move to stand up, doesn’t immediately push him toward the door, and Matthias takes that as permission to linger a moment longer.
“Saturday?” he asks. “Our usual coffee date?”
“Saturday,” Luna confirms. “And Matthias—thank you. For tonight. For every night. For being exactly what Sofia needs.”
“It’s not a sacrifice,” Matthias says honestly. “Being with her, with you—it’s the best part of my week. My life, actually.”
He leaves before he can say anything else, before the moment tips from meaningful into overwhelming, and he drives back to Manhattan replaying every second of their conversation, analyzing Luna’s body language and tone for signs of what she might be feeling, what she might be willing to risk.
She’s considering them.
The possibility of more than co-parenting.
The idea that they could be a real family instead of just two people who share custody of a child.
And Matthias is going to be patient, going to let Luna come to her own conclusions instead of pushing for more than she’s ready to give—but he’s also going to keep showing up, keep being present and consistent and devoted to both Luna and Sofia, keep proving through actions that he’s serious about building something permanent.
Because he wants this.
Wants Saturday mornings making pancakes and Tuesday evening train tracks and bedtime stories every night instead of just some nights.
Wants to fall asleep next to Luna and wake up to Sofia climbing into their bed because she had a dream and wants comfort.
Wants the mundane and the magical, the routine and the special moments, wants everything that comes with family instead of just the carefully scheduled visitation that’s better than nothing but nowhere near enough.
Luna is considering it.
And Matthias is going to do everything in his power to help her realize that they belong together—not just as Sofia’s parents, but as partners building a future that includes all three of them.
One bedtime story at a time.
One Saturday coffee date at a time.
One moment of chemistry acknowledged at a time.
Until Luna’s walls come down completely and she lets him in.
Not just to Sofia’s life.
But to hers as well.
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