I exhale, half in resignation, half in amusement. “I suppose not.” It helps that I’ve bumped into a few familiar faces, celebs, and famous folk I used to run the New York scene with back in the day. “Greer’s gonna surpass Atlanta pretty soon. I’m starting to like the small-town to big city vibe.”

“So basically, you love it here, and we’re never gonna leave.” Ari chimes in.

We all laugh as we continue to the community park, which buzzes with activity—dog walkers, Frisbee games, flag football, and kids…lots of kids.

Kerry and I watch the girls’ faces light up. “Hold on, is today the day? The day we finally make friends?” Ari asks, bouncing on her toes in anticipation.

I nod, smiling. “It might just be your lucky day.”

As we take in more of the park, Ari’s gaze locks onto the soccer field, her eyes darting between the kids weaving between cones, dribbling soccer balls with ease. Then, on another field, she spots kids just like her. Some have prosthetics, and others have different mobility aids, but all of them are running, laughing, playing, and having the time of their lives.

She stiffens, her little mind working overtime to piece it all together. Then, all at once, realization dawns.

“Oh my gosh, Dad, are you gonna let me play soccer?” Her voice is a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and before I can even get a word out, she throws herself into my arms, squeezing the life out of me.

I chuckle, rubbing her back. “Would I really bring you here just to tease you?”

She pulls back, eyes shimmering with excitement. But before she can press me for more details, three people approach, and Syd’s the first to notice.

She gasps, pointing. “Ms. Kind, your pretty friends from the video calls are here!”

Serena grins. “Well, hello, Grimes family. It’s so nice to see you all in person for once.” Then her sharp eyes land on me, and her expression shifts to mock disapproval.

I smirk, playing it cool. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah. Busy keeping our Kerry hostage,” Kiera scoffs, hands on her hips. Then, she nudges the man beside her, adding, “Victor, this is my husband, my better half, my wounded warrior and war hero, Chris. Chris, this is the man who stole my Kerry away. I only get to see her on the weekends now.”

He rolls his eyes as he laughs, seemingly used to his wife’s antics. He seems relaxed, wearing an ARMY t-shirt and performance shorts. He extends a firm hand and says, “Nice to meet you, bro. My name is Chris, but everyone calls me Hawkins.”

I shake it, nodding in approval.