Aaron looked at Hannah.
She looked guilty.
He turned back to Noah.
"I was upset because I missed you."
"You didn't know me."
"Exactly."
Noah frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
Aaron nodded.
"It didn't make sense to me either."
He sat beside him.
"I wasn't angry that you existed."
"I was angry that life happened without me."
Noah thought about that.
Then shrugged.
"But you're here now."
Children had a cruel ability to simplify adult pain.
Aaron smiled.
"Yeah."
"I'm here now."
At twelve, Noah found Aaron's old deployment journal.
Not captivity notes.
Those were classified or destroyed.
A personal notebook from before the mission.
One page contained baby names.
Noah.
Grace.
Hannah had written beside Noah:
Still my favorite.
Noah carried the notebook downstairs.
"You picked my name before I existed."
Aaron looked.
"Yeah."
"So Mom didn't make it up."
"No."
Noah sat beside him.
"Did you want me before you knew me?"
Aaron answered honestly.
"I wanted the idea of you."
"What's the difference?"
Aaron thought.
"An idea never leaves cereal bowls in the sink."
Noah rolled his eyes.
"An idea doesn't argue about homework."
"Okay."
"An idea doesn't become his own person."
Noah listened.
Aaron touched the notebook.
"I wanted a son."
He looked at Noah.
"But I love you."
Noah smiled.
"That was almost deep."
"Go do your homework."
"No."
"See?"
Noah laughed and ran upstairs.
Hannah entered from the kitchen.
"You've become your mother."
Aaron looked offended.
"Take that back."
"No."
She kissed his cheek.
Years passed.
The embryos remained stored for longer than expected.
Aaron and Hannah discussed them annually.
At first, emotionally.
Then calmly.
Eventually, when Noah was five, they decided to try again.
Together.
That mattered.
The transfer failed.
Hannah cried.
Aaron held her.
For the first time, they experienced infertility from the same side of time.
No distance.
No deployment.
No death.
Just disappointment.
They tried the final embryo.
It worked.
Their daughter, Grace, was born the following year.
Aaron stood beside Hannah during the delivery.
He cried before the baby did.
The nurse laughed.
"You okay, Dad?"
Aaron nodded.
"No."
Everyone smiled.
When Grace was placed into his arms, Aaron looked at Hannah.
"I got one."
She knew exactly what he meant.
A birth.