Damon was in the gym, sweat dripping down his back as he worked the heavy bag.
His knuckles cracked against the leather with each shot, his breath coming in measured bursts.
Every strike was a test, his timing, his focus, the way his body moved in rhythm even after months of different work.
But as he turned, he paused, his gaze softening. Ava was there, the one-year-old toddling across the mat with wide eyes and clumsy steps.
Damon stopped what he was doing and watched her, a small smile breaking across his face.
She wore a tiny tracksuit that Svetlana had picked out, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail that bobbed as she moved.
She stopped, a little unsteady on her feet, then took another determined step forward. Damon's heart squeezed in his chest as he watched.
He walked over slowly, wiping sweat from his brow as he knelt down to her level.
