Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

By the ninth month of their separation, Sergio had stopped asking Luka whether he needed help with the children's things.

He used to ask in the beginning, mostly because Luka had a habit of arriving on Friday afternoon and trying to carry three bags at once while also keeping track of whatever the children had scattered around the house during the week. Luka always said he had it, even when he very obviously didn't, and after a few months Sergio decided there was no reason to keep having the same argument. Now he simply took the bags from him.

"I can carry that."

"I know."

Luka reached for Mateo's football bag anyway, but Sergio moved it to his other hand. "Then give it to me."

"No."

Luka looked at him. "You're annoying."

"I know."

That was usually how Fridays started.

The children came to Sergio on Tuesday after school and stayed until Friday, unless a midweek match or an away fixture forced them to rearrange everything. It wasn't a particularly elegant custody arrangement, but their lives had never been built around normal working hours. For years there had been two football schedules on the kitchen wall and somehow, between the two of them, they'd managed training, matches, travelling, school and three children. Now there was only Sergio's schedule to work around.

Luka was still officially recovering from an injury that should have stopped being news months ago. The club continued to release vague updates about his rehabilitation and the papers continued to speculate about his return, while Luka seemed perfectly content to let them. He trained privately sometimes, went in for medical appointments when he had to and avoided Sergio's questions about the rest. Sergio had learned not to ask very often.

"Tata!"

Mateo came running from the house with his football under his arm, almost passing Luka completely before doubling back to hug him.

"Hey."

"Look what Papa got me."

Luka looked at the ball. "You have six of those."

"This one's different."

"Of course it is."

Mateo followed Luka inside, already explaining something about the ball that neither of his parents appeared particularly interested in. At seven, he could speak for an impressive amount of time without requiring much participation from anybody else.

The house still looked as though three children lived there full-time. Sergio had never changed their rooms after Luka left, and there had never been any discussion about doing so. Their coats were by the door, toys had accumulated in the living room again since Tuesday and somebody had left an open packet of biscuits on the kitchen counter despite Sergio having asked at least three times who it belonged to. He knew it was Mateo. Mateo continued to deny it.

"Papa."

Mia was sitting at the dining table with her school things spread out in front of her.

"What?"

She held up a test. Sergio took it from her. "An A?"

"I told you."

"You told me you were going to fail."

"I changed my mind." Luka laughed quietly as he came into the room. Sergio looked at him. "She's your daughter."

"Our daughter."

"Not today."

Mia rolled her eyes, but she was smiling when Sergio bent down and kissed the top of her head.

He caught her scent automatically. After three days here, she smelled more strongly of him than she had on Tuesday, his scent mixed into her hair and clothes alongside the softer traces of Luka that were always there. The same was true of the boys, and Sergio knew that by the next time he saw them the balance would have changed again. It was one of the stranger things about living apart that nobody had warned him about.

When they'd all lived here together, Sergio hadn't thought about which parent the children smelled more like on any particular day. The entire house had carried all five of them. Their clothes went into the same laundry, the children climbed into whichever parent's bed they wanted and Luka's scent had been so thoroughly worked into Sergio's life that he only really noticed it when a heat was approaching or something was wrong. Now he noticed all of it.

"Where's Niko?" Luka asked.

"Upstairs. He fell asleep."

"Now?"

"He was tired."

Luka sighed and was already heading toward the stairs. Sergio followed him.

Niko was asleep in their—Sergio's bedroom.

Nine months, and he still sometimes had to correct that one.

The boy had taken over Sergio's side of the bed, lying on his stomach with his face turned into the pillow. His curls were damp around his forehead and there was a small patch of drool beneath his mouth.

Sergio stopped beside Luka.

"He looks dead."

Luka turned immediately. "Don't say that."

"He's drooling."

"Then say he's drooling."

Sergio smiled to himself and went to get Niko's jacket. When he turned around again, Luka was leaning over the bed, brushing the curls away from Niko's forehead. His hand rested briefly against the boy's cheek before moving to his back.

"Tata," Niko murmured without opening his eyes.

"I'm here, ljubavi."

Niko settled again.

There were things about Luka that Sergio could be angry about for months, apparently, and then there were things so familiar that his body responded before the anger had a chance to get involved. Luka's scent had already begun to change. It was subtle, the soft warmth of an Omega settling around his child, but Sergio recognized it immediately. The room had smelled mostly of himself and Niko before Luka walked in. Now Luka was there too, and for a few seconds the combination was so familiar that Sergio could almost forget there was another house waiting for them.

"I'll carry him."

Luka stepped aside. Sergio slipped his arms beneath Niko and lifted him from the mattress. Niko complained quietly until he recognized who had him, then wrapped both arms around Sergio's neck and pressed his face against his scent gland.

"Papa."

"Go back to sleep." Sergio tipped his head and pressed his nose into Niko's hair.

He scented him without thinking about it at first, although he was aware that he lingered longer than necessary once he remembered Luka would be taking him away.

"Sergio."

He looked over.

"Enough."

"He's my son."

"I know."

Luka didn't need to say anything else. Sergio knew exactly what he meant and, judging by Luka's expression, Luka knew that Sergio knew.

He scented Niko once more anyway. Luka sighed and reached for him. This time Sergio handed him over without arguing.

Niko shifted easily from one parent to the other, resting his head beneath Luka's chin. Sergio's scent was fresh on him now, strong enough that it immediately mixed with Luka's when the Omega settled their son against his chest. Neither of them mentioned it.

Downstairs, Mateo had apparently decided that Luka's arrival was a good opportunity to resume an argument they'd been having since breakfast.

"Tell Papa Croatia is better."

"At what?" Luka asked.

"Football."

Sergio put Niko's jacket over the back of a chair and shut his eyes.  "Get out of my house."

Mateo laughed.

"It's true!"

"You're Spanish."

"I'm Croatian too."

"Unfortunately."

Luka was trying not to smile.

Sergio pointed at him. "This is your fault. All three of them."

"You were involved."

"I mated one Croatian and somehow ended up surrounded by them."

Mia looked up from packing her school bag. "We're half Spanish."

"Thank you, Mia, my love, my treasure. At least somebody remembers."

"...And half Croatian."

"Of course."

Luka laughed properly then, and Sergio hated how quickly his attention went to him. It had always been easy to make Luka laugh at home. Much easier than in interviews, where he smiled politely at stupid questions, or around people he didn't know well, where he tended to become quiet and let Sergio do most of the talking. At home Sergio could usually get him with very little effort. Apparently that hadn't changed either.

Mateo bounced the football once and caught it. "Uncle Vedran says Croatia is better too."

Luka's smile disappeared.

Sergio looked at him.

Mateo continued before either of them could stop him. "He said—"

"Mateo," Luka interrupted. "Go get your backpack."

"But it's already—"

"Please."

Mateo looked between them, then went.

Sergio waited until he was out of the room.

"When was he there?"

Luka shifted Niko higher against his chest. "A few weeks ago."

"At... your house."

"He visited."

Sergio gave a small nod. Luka watched him for a moment.

"Don't start."

"I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to."

That was true. Sergio picked up the children's bags and took them outside. There had been a time when Vedran's name had merely irritated him. Sergio had always known they were close. Vedran had known Luka long before Sergio did, back when Luka was still young enough to believe cutting his own hair was acceptable and poor enough that there were apparently photographs of him wearing the same three shirts for an entire year. He knew Luka's family, knew Zadar, knew stories Sergio had never been part of and could make Luka laugh by mentioning people Sergio had never met.

Sergio had been jealous of him before he'd had any real reason to be. Then, nine months ago, he'd found out that Vedran hadn't merely been Luka's old friend. Luka had married him. At eighteen. Sergio had spent more than fifteen years with Luka, had mated him, had three children with him and had somehow never once been told that the Alpha he'd disliked almost on principle had once legally been Luka's husband.

According to Luka, it hadn't been a real marriage. That sentence still made Sergio angry enough that he preferred not to think about it while carrying children's bags.

By the time he came back inside, Niko was awake.

"I want to stay until tomorrow," he told Luka.

"You've been here since Tuesday."

"I know. I want another day."

"You'll see Papa again next week."

Niko considered this, then looked at Sergio. "Tata can stay here too."

Sergio raised his eyebrows. "Good idea."

Luka gave him a warning look.

Niko, encouraged, continued. "Then we don't have to go anywhere."

"We're going home, ljubavi."

"This is home too."

Luka went quiet for a moment. "Yes," he said eventually. "It is."

Niko seemed satisfied with that even if it hadn't solved his original problem. Sergio wasn't.

Mia appeared beside them with her bag over one shoulder. "Come on, Niko. Tata said we're getting pizza."

Niko's attention shifted immediately. "What kind?"

"Whatever you want."

"Can I have olives?"

"Obviously."

Sergio made a face. "Croatians."

Niko frowned at him. "You like olives."

"That's irrelevant."

Mia laughed and took her little brother's hand. It was usually easier once they started leaving. There were things to remember, doors to hold open and last-minute questions about whether somebody had packed a charger. Sergio could concentrate on those instead of the fact that Friday afternoon meant the house was about to become much quieter than he liked.

Niko had almost reached the door when he suddenly stopped. "My shirt."

"What shirt?" Luka asked.

"The black one."

Niko ran back toward the stairs before either of them could say anything. A minute later he returned carrying one of Sergio's old training shirts. Sergio frowned.

"Where are you taking that?"

"Home."

"That's mine."

"I know." Niko started stuffing it into his dinosaur backpack. Sergio looked at Luka.

"Are you letting him steal my clothes now?"

"He's been taking that one for months."

Sergio looked back at Niko.

"I sleep with it at Tata's," Niko explained as he struggled with the zip. "It smells like you."

For once Sergio didn't have an answer ready. Luka reached down and helped Niko close the bag. "Come on."

Sergio watched them go outside. There was nothing unusual about a pup wanting something that smelled like a parent, especially at Niko's age. Sergio knew that. Mia had slept with one of Luka's shirts during an away tournament when she was small, and Mateo had once dragged Sergio's pillow into his own bed for almost a month. Still, Sergio hadn't known that his shirt had been travelling between the two houses. He followed them outside and helped put the bags into Luka's car. Mia hugged him first.

"You call me," Sergio said.

"I always do."

"I know."

Mateo accepted a kiss to his hair only after checking that none of his friends were nearby, which Sergio found offensive considering they were standing in their own driveway. Niko held his arms up. Sergio picked him up and kissed his cheek. "Tuesday."

"After school."

"Yes."

"Can you get me before Mateo?"

Mateo protested from beside the car. Sergio smiled.

"I'll see what I can do."

When he handed Niko back, Luka took him automatically. Their hands brushed briefly against the boy's back. Sergio felt Luka pull away first.

"I'll text you when we get there."

"Okay."

Luka turned toward the car.

"Wait."

He looked back. Sergio nodded toward Niko's backpack. "I want my shirt back eventually."

Luka's mouth twitched. "I'll see what I can do."

It wasn't much, but Sergio took it.

He watched the car leave before going back inside. The house wasn't silent; the television was still on in the living room and Mateo had apparently left music playing somewhere upstairs. It simply felt different without the children moving through it, and Sergio had come to dislike the first hour after they left more than the rest of the weekend combined. He cleared the glasses from the table, put the biscuits back in the cupboard and found Mia's English test beneath one of the cushions. He took a picture of the grade before putting it with the school things she'd left behind.

His phone buzzed while he was turning off the television. Home.

Sergio replied with a thumbs-up, thought better of it, deleted it and wrote: Good. Tell Niko he owes me a shirt.

Luka answered a minute later.

He says no.

Sergio smiled despite himself.

Thief.

There was no reply after that, but Sergio didn't particularly expect one. He went upstairs later and found the side of his bed where Niko had slept still slightly rumpled. He straightened the blanket, picked up the little plastic dinosaur that had been left near the pillow and put it on the bedside table for Tuesday. Four days

. It wasn't very long.

And whatever Luka currently thought about Sergio, Vedran, the house or any of the other things they were refusing to discuss, Sergio still couldn't quite imagine that this arrangement was going to be the rest of their lives. Luka was angry. Sergio was angry too.

Eventually, one of them would have to stop.

Luka had started with the passports because clothes could wait.

His mother had already called twice to ask when they were coming home, Mateo had begun making a list of everything he intended to do in Zadar, and Niko had apparently decided that three weeks in Croatia required bringing most of his bedroom with him.

The documents were still where Luka had left them in the small cabinet in his bedroom. Four passports together, his own beneath the children's, along with birth certificates and the other things he'd taken from the old house months ago because it had seemed easier than asking Sergio for them whenever he needed something. There had been another folder once. Luka hadn't taken that one.

He didn't even know if Sergio still had it.

Nine months ago, Sergio had been looking for Mia's birth certificate when he'd found the divorce papers instead. It was almost funny that something Luka hadn't thought about in years had managed to destroy his life in less than an evening.

Vedran Ćorluka. Luka Modrić.

Married when Luka was eighteen, divorced a little over a year later.

Sergio had known Vedran for almost as long as he'd known Luka. He knew they'd played together, knew they were close, knew Vedran still came to Zadar and walked into Luka's mother's house without knocking. Sergio had complained about him often enough over the years that Luka had stopped listening to most of it. What Sergio hadn't known was that, for a short period when they were barely adults, Vedran had legally been Luka's husband. Luka hadn't deliberately kept it from him. At least, that was what he'd said when the fought.

Later, even Luka had stopped believing that explanation entirely. He simply hadn't told him.

At eighteen, it had been paperwork.

Luka was an unmated Omega trying to establish himself in a part of football that had been built almost entirely around Alphas and Betas, and there were doors that opened considerably faster when somebody could point to an Alpha husband on a form. Vedran had been his friend, an Alpha he trusted, and willing to do something ridiculous if it meant Luka could play.

There had never been a mating. There had never even been a relationship. They'd signed papers, laughed about how stupid they looked in the photograph Vedran's mother insisted on taking afterward, and divorced once Luka's name had become valuable enough that the same people who had cared very much about his status at eighteen suddenly stopped asking questions. To Luka, that had been the end of it.

Sergio had disagreed.

Very loudly.

Luka could remember the exact sound of the bedroom door hitting the wall. He had been putting away laundry when Sergio came in, and he knew something was wrong before he saw the papers in his hand.

Sergio's scent reached him first, anger so sharp and heavy that Luka straightened automatically.

"What the fuck is this?"

Sergio threw the papers at him. They struck Luka across the chest before falling onto the bed and floor, one page sliding beneath the dresser. Luka stared at it for a moment before looking back at Sergio.

He had seen Sergio furious before. Everyone had. There were compilations online devoted to it, years' worth of arguments on pitches and confrontations in tunnels, Sergio getting into someone's face while teammates tried to pull him away. Luka had seen worse than most people had, because he'd been there afterward too, when Sergio was still pacing through a hotel room or swearing in the car. It had never been directed at him. Not once. Even their worst arguments had never looked like this.

"Answer me."

Luka picked up the page nearest his foot. "Where did you find these?"

"Don't fucking do that. Don't stand there and ask me where I found them."

"You were looking through my things."

"I was looking for Mia's birth certificate, and instead I find out my mate had a fucking husband."

"Sergio—"

"You married him?"

Luka looked down at the papers. "Yes."

"Vedran."

"Yes."

"Vedran Ćorluka."

"I know who you're talking about."

Sergio laughed, but there was nothing amused in it. "Apparently I'm the one who didn't know who the fuck I was talking about."

Luka put the page onto the bed. "I was eighteen."

"I can see the date."

"It wasn't a real marriage."

"There's your name. There's his name. Looks pretty fucking real to me!"

"It was paperwork."

Sergio stared at him as though that made it worse. "Why?"

Luka hesitated, trying to work out where to begin when Sergio clearly wasn't interested in listening to any answer that might take longer than a sentence. "Because I needed it."

"You needed to marry Vedran?"

"I needed an Alpha attached to me."

The words finally slowed Sergio down, although only briefly. Luka sat on the edge of the bed.

"I was eighteen and unmated. There were clubs that wouldn't even speak to me without asking who was responsible for me first. Other places would let me train but wouldn't register me. Vedran was already my friend, he was an Alpha, and being married made things easier."

"So you married him."

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"A little over a year."

Sergio turned away from him, dragging both hands through his hair before turning straight back. "And you never thought to tell me?"

"It was over before I met you."

"That isn't what I asked."

"No. I didn't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because it didn't matter."

That was the wrong answer. Luka knew it the moment Sergio's scent changed.

"Didn't matter."

"Not like you're making it sound."

"You were married to a man who has been in our house for fifteen years and it didn't matter enough to mention?"

"There was nothing between us."

"Nothing."

"No."

"You expect me to believe that?"

Luka looked at him. That question bothered him more than the shouting had.

"There was no relationship, Sergio. We didn't live.. as a couple. He never mated me."

"Did he touch you?"

Luka's expression hardened. "Don't."

"I'm asking you a question."

"And I'm telling you not to."

Sergio came closer. "Did he?"

"No."

"Did he scent you?"

"For God's sake."

"Did he?"

"He was my friend!"

"He was your husband!"

The shout carried beyond the bedroom. Luka heard something fall silent downstairs. For the first time since Sergio had come into the room, his attention moved away from him.

"The children are downstairs."

"Then answer me."

"Lower your voice."

"Don't tell me to lower my fucking voice."

Luka stared at him. There it was again, that strange moment of recognition without familiarity. Sergio had said those words to other people. Luka had heard that voice directed at referees, opponents, reporters who pushed too far. Never him. Something in Luka's own scent shifted instinctively, and Sergio noticed. His eyes flicked briefly toward Luka's neck before coming back to his face. He didn't calm down.

"Was he your first Alpha?"

Luka frowned. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Stop that."

Sergio laughed. Luka stood. 

"You were married to him for a year."

"So?"

"So he had you for a year!"

Luka went still.

Sergio was breathing hard, the papers still scattered between them.

"What did you say?"

"He had you first."

"No one had me."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't think I do."

"You were his.

" "I was never his."

"You married him!"

"Because I wanted to play football!"

"And apparently that makes everything else disappear."

"There was no everything else!"

"How the fuck would I know?"

Luka stared at him. Sergio didn't stop. That was the part Luka would remember later. Sergio knew where the line was. He knew Luka well enough to see it, and usually he was the person most careful never to go near it. That night he stepped over it and kept going.

"Everyone knew, didn't they? Your mother knew. Your family knew. His family obviously knew. How many times has that man sat downstairs knowing he'd already had my mate and I was the only fucking idiot in the room who didn't know?"

"Stop saying that."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't belong to him."

"You were legally his."

"I didn't belong to anyone."

"Fine."

"No, not fine." Luka stepped toward him now. "You know what it was like for me. You know why I did it. Don't stand there and turn it into another Alpha having some kind of claim on me."

"He had more than a claim. He had your fucking name on a marriage certificate."

"And you have my mating mark on my neck."

Sergio's eyes went to it. Luka wished afterward that he hadn't said it. Sergio was angry enough to take even that and make it hurt.

"Maybe that doesn't mean as much as I thought either."

For several seconds Luka didn't understand. Then he did. "Our mating?"

Sergio looked at him. "You tell me."

Luka's anger disappeared so quickly that he almost felt cold without it. Sergio knew what that bond meant to him. He knew how long Luka had made him wait, how terrified he'd been of giving another person something so permanent, and how certain he'd finally had to be before he'd allowed Sergio to bite him. Sergio knew because he had been there for every part of it. Luka touched the mark without meaning to.

"You don't mean that."

"Don't tell me what I mean."

There was movement in the hallway.

Luka looked toward the door.

Mia was standing there.

She was pale, and Mateo was just behind her.

"What's happening?"

The anger left Luka immediately.

"Ništa, Nije ništa, ljubavi."

"You were shouting."

"I know."

Mateo looked past him at Sergio.

"Papa?"

Sergio didn't answer quickly enough. That frightened Mateo more than anything else had. His face crumpled.

Luka crossed the room before he started crying properly and crouched in front of him, pulling him close. Mia came with him almost immediately, pressing herself against Luka's side.

"It's okay," Luka murmured. "Everything's okay."

It obviously wasn't, and Mia at ten years old was old enough to know that.

"Are you and Papa fighting?"

Luka looked over her head at Sergio. Sergio was still standing beside their bed.

"Yes," Luka said quietly. "But that's not because of you."

Niko woke sometime during the commotion. By the time Luka had calmed Mateo down and got Mia back into bed, he was standing in the hallway in his pajamas, confused and upset because everybody else was upset.

Luka didn't go back to his own bedroom that night. He took Niko into Mateo’s room, climbed into the bed with him and let Mateo squeeze in on his other side even though there wasn't really enough space for all three of them. Mia appeared at the door ten minutes later with her pillow. Luka didn't ask why she wasn't sleeping in her own room.

"Come here."

She climbed in too. It was uncomfortable and far too warm, Mateo's knee was pressed into Luka's thigh and Niko had already managed to get half his body on top of him. Mia lay curled against his back, one hand holding the fabric of his shirt. Nobody was asleep.

"Are you still angry at Papa?" Mateo asked eventually.

Luka looked into the darkness. "A little."

"Is Papa angry at us?"

"No." That answer came easily. "Never."

"Then why was he shouting?"

Luka closed his eyes. "Because sometimes adults get very angry and say things they shouldn't."

Mia was quiet behind him.

"…Are you going to shout again tomorrow?"

That was the question that did it.

Not what Sergio had said upstairs, not the papers against his chest or the fact that his mate had looked at him with an anger Luka had never once believed would be turned on him. His daughter asking whether she needed to prepare for it happening again.

Luka turned carefully, enough to find her hand beneath the blanket. "No."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Mia held on to him.

Luka lay awake long after all three children finally fell asleep around him.

He could feel Sergio through the bond somewhere else in the house, still angry at first, then restless, the edges of it changing as the hours passed. Luka knew him well enough to know what would come when the anger burned itself out. Sergio would regret what he'd said. He would come looking for him, and eventually there would be an apology. Normally Luka would have waited for it.

That night, with three upset children crowded into a bed that was too small for them because none of them wanted to sleep alone after hearing their parents scream at each other, Luka found that the apology mattered considerably less than it would have a few hours earlier.

Whatever happened between him and Sergio, the children weren't going to grow up listening to it through bedroom doors.

Luka wouldn't let them live like that.

That was why he'd left, eventually.

For the next two weeks they had moved around each other with the careful distance of people who knew another argument was waiting if either of them touched the wrong subject. Sergio slept in their bedroom, Luka slept with Niko, and the children gradually stopped watching them every time they spoke to each other. It should have made things better. Instead, Luka kept thinking about Mia standing in the doorway. He kept thinking about Mateo crying, and about all three children climbing into bed with him because the house they had always felt safest in hadn't felt safe for one evening.

Sergio had never frightened them before. He had never frightened Luka either, and Luka didn't actually believe he would do it again. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was that by the end of those two weeks, they were still angry.

Sergio was sorry for what he'd said, but he wasn't sorry for being furious that Luka had never told him. Luka could admit that Sergio had deserved to know, but every time the conversation got anywhere near Vedran, he heard you belonged to him all over again.

Neither of them knew how to give enough ground without feeling as though they were accepting something they weren't.

So Luka had packed for a few days.

A few days became a week.

Then there had been the new house, close enough to the children's school that almost nothing else in their lives had to change, and somewhere along the way Sergio had stopped asking every evening whether Luka was coming home.

Nine months later, Luka was sitting on the floor of that house with four passports in front of him.

He ran his thumb over the edge of Mia's and put it on top of the others. Clothes could wait until tomorrow.

His mother disagreed, of course.

She called every evening now, usually to ask a question she'd already asked the day before, and had started talking about the children's arrival as though they were returning from a lengthy exile rather than spending a few weeks in Zadar, as they did every summer.

Sergio wasn't particularly happy about it either.

"Four weeks."

Luka glanced at him. "Maybe."

"That's worse."

He was standing in the kid's room at the old house, going through the children's summer clothes while Sergio hovered near the door. Luka had come over after training because far too much of what they needed was still here, and Sergio had followed him upstairs after approximately five minutes of pretending he wasn't going to.

"They have grandparents here too."

"They see your mother all the time."

"Because my mother doesn't kidnap them for a month."

Luka ignored him and pulled two of Mateo's shirts from a drawer. Sergio had complained about Croatia every summer for as long as Luka could remember. He complained about the heat, about Luka's mother feeding everyone too much, about waking up to discover yet another person from Zadar sitting at the breakfast table. Usually he made those complaints while packing his own suitcase. This year Luka was going without him.

"Where are Niko's swimming things?"

"His room."

Luka went to get them himself. By the time he came downstairs, Sergio had carried the rest of the clothes down and left them in a pile on the dining table. Luka began putting everything into the large bag he'd brought with him.

"You're taking all of that?"

"I have three children."

"So do I."

Luka looked up briefly. Sergio was already irritated again. Croatia had been doing that to him for weeks, although Luka suspected Croatia itself had very little to do with it.

"They'll be back."

"After four weeks."

"Yes."

Sergio watched him stuff another shirt into the bag.

"Leave some of it. You're going to have to bring all this shit back when you move home anyway."

Luka stopped.

It took him a moment to understand what Sergio had said.

"I'm not moving back."

"Not now."

"No."

Sergio frowned. "What?"

Luka straightened. "I'm not moving back here."

For a few seconds Sergio only stared at him. Then his expression hardened. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means I'm not coming back."

"You've been gone nine months."

"I know."

"And now you've decided that's permanent?"

Luka hesitated. The truth was that he hadn't sat down one morning and decided anything. He had simply stopped imagining himself packing the new house back into boxes.

"Yes."

Sergio laughed under his breath and turned away. "Good to know."

"Sergio."

"No, it's fine. Apparently you've had this all worked out."

"I haven't."

"Could've fooled me."

Luka watched him pace a few steps into the kitchen before turning back.

"What exactly have you been doing for nine months, then?" Sergio asked. "Waiting until you weren't angry anymore?"

"I've been taking care of the children."

"So have I."

"I didn't say you haven't."

"You didn't have to."

There was enough anger in Sergio's scent now that Luka's own rose in response, and for a moment he thought they were about to do exactly what they had promised themselves they wouldn't do again. He lowered his voice instead.

"I'm not fighting with you."

"Convenient."

Luka zipped the bag. That seemed to affect Sergio more than anything he'd said. His eyes dropped to Luka's hands and then to the bag, full of clothes that were leaving his house for a summer he wasn't going to be part of.

"When were you going to tell me?"

Luka looked at him. "I thought you knew."

Sergio's face changed. Not much, but enough that Luka wished immediately that he'd chosen different words.

"Right."

The anger was still there, but it had lost something. Luka suddenly understood.

All those comments he'd ignored over the last months. Sergio telling the children to leave things because they'd need them here eventually, complaining whenever Luka took something from the kitchen, still referring to this house as home without ever distinguishing whose home he meant. Luka had thought Sergio was being difficult. Sergio had actually believed he was coming back.

"Sergio—"

"Don't."

There was no aggression in it now. That was worse.

Luka picked up the bag. "We're leaving for Croatia next week."

Sergio nodded without looking at him.

"The kids want to see you again before we go. I'll ask them tonight."

Another nod.

Luka waited, although he wasn't sure what for. Sergio finally looked at him. He looked tired suddenly, the anger having burned away so quickly that Luka could see what had been sitting underneath it. "Anything else?"

"No."

"Okay."

Sergio walked him to the door because apparently even now neither of them knew how not to do the things they'd done for fifteen years. He took the bag from Luka without asking and carried it to the car. At the boot, Luka reached for it. Sergio put it inside himself.

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

Luka closed the boot. For one terrible second he wanted to touch him.

Sergio smelled miserable. Luka's Omega recognized it immediately and responded with an instinct so deeply established that he nearly reached for Sergio's wrist before stopping himself. That would only make this worse.

"I'll let you know about the kids."

"Okay."

Luka got into the car. Sergio didn't wait in the driveway until he pulled away like he usually did. He went back inside and shut the door behind him.

Luka sat there for another few seconds before starting the engine.

"Can we stay with Papa today?" Mateo asked it while Luka was putting breakfast on the table.

"You were just there."

"I know."

"And we're leaving for Croatia next week."

"That's why."

Niko immediately looked interested. "Can I go too?"

Luka put the bowl of strawberries down.

"You both live here, you know."

"We know."

"Just checking."

Mia smiled faintly into her cereal. Luka looked at her. "You too?"

She hesitated. "I don't know."

It was the hesitation more than the answer that made him sit down beside her.

"You can go if you want."

"I know."

"I'm not going to be upset."

Mia looked at him then. "Really?"

"Really."

A few seconds passed before she nodded. "Then yes."

That hurt a little. Luka ignored it. "Fine. Ask Papa."

Mateo was gone before Luka had finished the sentence.

"Don't call him if he's training," Luka called after him.

"I'll text!" 

Luka heard the tablet being unlocked in the living room and went back to breakfast. A minute later Mateo returned.

"Papa said yes."

"Already?"

"Yes."

Luka looked at him suspiciously. Mateo had inherited many things from both of his parents. Unfortunately, an inability to lie convincingly was not among them.

"What did he say?"

"That we can come."

"Show me."

"I already closed it."

Luka stared at him. Mateo stared back with impressive determination.

"Mateo."

"He said yes."

"Did you actually ask him?"

"Yes."

It was just convincing enough. Luka sighed. "Fine. After breakfast, then."

Mateo sat down looking extremely pleased with himself. Mia watched him from across the table. She waited until Luka turned away before mouthing something at him. Mateo shook his head sharply. Her eyes widened. He put a finger to his lips.

Sergio had not said yes. Sergio hadn't received a message at all. By the time Mateo had announced otherwise, his father had been asleep for less than three hours.

Going out the night before hadn't been planned.

Sergio had gone for dinner, somebody suggested drinks afterward, and for once he hadn't had a reason to say no.

There was no match the next day, the children were with Luka, and going home to the house Luka had just made very clear he would never be returning to sounded worse than staying out.

So Sergio stayed.

Then he drank.

The person beside him at the bar had been attractive. Sergio could remember that much. An Omega, older than the people who usually tried their luck with footballers, funny enough that Sergio had actually listened when he spoke.

Sergio had known he was being flirted with. He had ignored it for most of the night. Later, after enough alcohol and one particularly ill-advised glance at his phone to confirm that Luka still hadn't messaged him, he'd stopped ignoring it.

There hadn't been much thought involved after that. Which was probably why, when his doorbell started ringing the following morning, Sergio initially assumed he was imagining it.

He buried his face deeper into the pillow.

It rang again.

Then somebody knocked. Then the bell rang for a third time.

"What the fuck?" The person beside him stirred.

Sergio lifted his head.

For several seconds he had no idea what time it was.

Then he heard a muffled voice from downstairs. "Papa!"

Sergio was out of bed so quickly that the room tilted.

He grabbed the edge of the dresser.

No.

"Papa!"

Mateo.

"Oh, fuck."

The Omega in his bed sat up. "What?"

"My children."

That woke him too. "Your—what?"

Sergio was already pulling on the first pair of shorts he found. "They're not supposed to be here."

"Do you want me to—"

"Stay here." He got halfway to the door, stopped, looked back at the bed and seemed to register the situation properly for the first time. "Please."

The Omega nodded.

Sergio ran a hand over his face and went downstairs.

"He's taking forever," Mateo complained.

Luka adjusted the strap of Niko's backpack on his shoulder.

"You said he knew we were coming."

"He does."

Mia looked at her brother. Mateo avoided her eyes. Luka noticed. "What?"

"Nothing," Mateo said quickly.

"Mateo."

The door opened.

Sergio stood there barefoot, wearing shorts and a T-shirt he'd very obviously put on in a hurry. His hair was a mess. He looked terrible. And completely surprised.

Luka turned slowly toward Mateo.

Mateo became extremely interested in the ground.

"You didn't ask him."

"I was going to."

"Mateo."

"I knew he'd say yes!"

"That isn't the same thing!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

Behind them, Sergio closed his eyes. Luka looked back at him.

"Sorry. Apparently we've raised a criminal."

Usually Sergio would have laughed. He didn't.

"It's fine."

Luka frowned. Then Sergio's scent reached him.

It took perhaps two seconds. The first was confusion, because Sergio smelled wrong. The second was recognition. Luka went completely still. There was another Omega in his house.

Not in the house, perhaps. Luka couldn't possibly know that from where he stood. But on Sergio. Under Sergio. Mixed into his scent in a way that couldn't have come from standing beside someone at a bar.

Sergio saw the exact moment Luka understood. "Luka—"

"Papa!" Niko pushed past Luka before either of them could say anything and threw himself at Sergio. Sergio caught him.

The movement brought another wave of scent with it. Luka's stomach turned.

His Omega reacted so violently that for one humiliating moment Luka wanted to pull Niko back, get Sergio away from the children and cover every inch of his mate in his own scent until there was nothing left of whoever had touched him. Instead he stood there holding a dinosaur backpack.

"Tata?" Mia said quietly.

Luka looked down at her. She was watching him. That was enough.

"I... Nothing." He handed her bag to Sergio. "Sorry. They wanted to stay."

Sergio took it. "I didn't know."

"I gathered that."

Mateo looked worried now. "Can we still?"

Sergio looked at him immediately. "Of course you can."

"You're not mad?"

"No."

Mateo relaxed. Luka couldn't.

Sergio had showered. Luka realized that now. There was soap on his skin and his clothes were clean, which meant the scent should have been faint enough to ignore. It wasn't. Not to his mate.

And suddenly Luka understood why Sergio looked exhausted. Why he'd taken so long to answer the door. Why he hadn't made a joke about Mateo lying.

There was someone upstairs.

Luka didn't need to see them.

"Okay."

Sergio looked at him. "Luka."

"Mateo has his football things. Mia has her charger."

"I know."

"Niko's cream is in his bag."

"I know."

Luka nodded. He couldn't seem to stop doing that. Niko had both arms around Sergio's neck now, happily telling him about something that had happened at breakfast. Sergio was listening, but his eyes kept returning to Luka. Mia hugged Luka before going inside. Mateo followed, although not before giving Luka a sheepish look.

"Sorry I lied."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." That made him look considerably less pleased with himself.

"Okay."

When the children were finally inside, Sergio stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door mostly closed behind him.

"Luka."

"Don't."

"I didn't know they were coming."

"I know."

"I wouldn't have—"

"Don't."

Sergio stopped. Luka looked at him properly for the first time. There was no satisfaction in Sergio's face. No defiance. He didn't look like someone who'd done this to prove a point. He looked hungover and miserable and, suddenly, a little ashamed. That somehow hurt more.

"You don't have to explain anything to me."

Sergio's jaw tightened. "Don't say that."

"Why?"

"You know why."

Luka did. That was the problem. For fifteen years there had never been a version of their relationship where Sergio sleeping with somebody else was something he didn't owe Luka an explanation for. Apparently there was now. Luka had made that clear himself two days ago. He looked past Sergio toward the house.

"Have a good day with them."

"Lukita.."

"I'll get them tomorrow."

He turned away. Sergio didn't follow him. That was probably wise. Luka was halfway to the car when he heard the front door open behind him. A voice he didn't recognize said something quietly. He didn't hear the words and he didn't need to. Luka got into the car.

By the time he'd pulled away, he'd already decided they weren't leaving for Croatia next week.

They were leaving tomorrow.

Luka made it to the car before the first tear fell. He wiped it away impatiently and pulled out of Sergio's street, refusing to look back at the house. He didn't understand why he was crying. That was the humiliating part.

Sergio hadn't cheated on him. There had been no betrayal, no promise broken, nothing Luka could reasonably hold against him.

He had told Sergio he wasn't coming back. Apparently his body hadn't understood that meant Sergio was allowed to stop waiting.

Another tear slipped down his cheek before he'd reached the end of the street. Luka wiped that one away too, harder this time, angry with himself now.

By the time he got home, he was crying properly.

He barely made it through the front door before the control he'd managed to hold onto in the car disappeared. His keys landed somewhere on the table, and Luka stood in the hallway with both hands over his face, trying to breathe quietly in a house where there was nobody to hear him anyway.

Another Omega had been on his Alpha. The thought was ugly and primitive and entirely at odds with everything Luka knew to be true, but his Omega didn't care about any of that. It didn't care about separate houses or nine months apart or the conversation two days ago. Sergio was his mate. Sergio carried Luka's mark as surely as Luka carried his, and someone else had put their scent all over him. Worse, Luka had left their pups there. That realization hit him hard enough that he lifted his head.

"Oh, God."

Niko had been wrapped around Sergio's neck. His little face had been pressed against the same skin where Luka had smelled someone else. Mateo would be all over him within an hour, probably wrestling with him on the sofa. Mia would sit beside him and steal food from his plate. They would all come home smelling wrong. Luka knew how irrational that was. He knew Sergio would never let anything happen around the children, and whoever had been there would almost certainly be gone soon.

His children were with their father. There was nowhere safer for them.

None of that helped. He wanted them back. He wanted all three of them here where he could put his hands on them and breathe them in and cover them in his own scent until everything felt right again. And beneath that was something worse, something he refused to examine too closely because it was the reason he had been crying since he left Sergio's driveway. He wanted Sergio back too.

Luka sank onto the bottom stair and cried harder. He'd done this. For nine months Sergio had waited. Luka could see that now, could see it with a clarity that made him feel sick. All those stupid comments he'd ignored, all the things Sergio had refused to let him take from the house because he'd need them when he came back, the children's rooms left untouched, Sergio carrying bags to Luka's car on Fridays and behaving as though this was some temporary inconvenience they would eventually get tired of. Then Luka had looked him in the face and told him it was over.

Two days. It had taken two days. Luka pressed his palms into his eyes. "Idiot."

He wasn't even sure which of them he meant.

Eventually there was nothing left in him for crying.

His head hurt, his eyes felt swollen and his mating mark had settled into an unpleasant, persistent ache that he knew was mostly in his head and resented anyway.

He went upstairs. The suitcase was still open on his bedroom floor. Luka stood over it for a while. They were supposed to leave next week. There was no reason they couldn't leave tomorrow instead. The children were already out of school. His mother would be delighted. Their passports were ready. And Luka needed to get away.

He pulled the suitcase into the middle of the room and started packing. Not the careful piles he'd been making all week. He opened drawers and put things in, moving from his room to the children's and back again. Whatever he forgot could be bought in Croatia. Half their summer things were already at his mother's house anyway. He packed until the light outside began to disappear, showered and went to bed without checking his phone.

He slept badly.

The next morning, Luka called Mia during breakfast. She answered on the third ring.

"Tata?"

"Morning, ljubavi."

"Morning." There was noise behind her, Mateo talking much too loudly and a television somewhere nearby. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah. Niko kicked me."

"I did not!" Niko shouted from somewhere near the phone. Mia moved away from him. "He did."

Luka smiled despite himself.

"Get your things together after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I'm picking you up."

There was a pause. "I thought we were staying until tomorrow."

"I know. Plans changed."

"Okay."

"And help Niko, please."

"Okay."

Luka could hear her thinking. Mia had become far too good at that over the last nine months. "Tata?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?"

Luka looked down at the coffee he'd barely touched. "I'm fine. Grandma misses you."

That wasn't an answer, and they both knew it. Before Mia could say anything else, her voice moved away from the phone.

"Papa, it's Tata."

Luka's stomach dropped. A moment later Sergio was there.

"Luka."

His voice alone was enough to bring back yesterday morning: the open door, damp hair, soap and that other scent beneath it.

"I'll be there in an hour."

"Wait."Luka, just—"

"I'll be there in an hour."

He ended the call.

The children weren't ready. Of course they weren't. Luka pulled into the driveway to find Mateo still looking for something he'd apparently decided he couldn't survive without, while Niko had no intention of leaving at all.

"I thought we were staying with Papa."

"I know."

"You said tomorrow."

"I know, ljubavi. Come on."

"No."

Niko backed away from him. Normally Luka would have crouched down and explained it properly. Normally he would have given him five minutes, helped him say goodbye, probably let Sergio convince him that one more night wasn't going to destroy anyone's schedule. Today Luka couldn't stand in that hallway any longer than necessary. Sergio was there, and although the foreign scent was much fainter now, Luka still found it immediately.

His Omega recoiled from it and reached for Sergio at the same time. It made Luka want to scream.

"Mateo, bag."

"I'm getting it."

"Now, please."

Mia was already watching him. She didn't argue. She picked up her own things and went to the car.

Sergio followed Luka outside with one of the bags.

"Luka."

"Put it in the boot."

"Will you look at me?"

Luka opened the back door for Niko. Niko had started crying. "I don't want to go."

Luka swallowed. "We're going home."

"This is home."

"I know."

"I want Papa."

Sergio stopped behind them. Luka closed his eyes for a second. Every instinct he had was telling him to turn around. Sergio was upset; Luka could smell that too. Beneath the traces that didn't belong there was still Sergio, his mate, miserable enough that Luka's body wanted to go to him regardless of what his mind had to say about it. So he didn't turn around. He got Niko into the car.

"Tata, no."

"I know, sweetheart."

"I want to stay with Papa."

"I know."

Niko cried harder when Luka fastened him in, and Luka had to look away when Sergio crouched beside the open door.

"Hey."

Niko reached for him immediately. Sergio kissed his forehead and let him cling to his neck for a few seconds.

Luka stood beside the boot and tried not to watch. Mateo climbed in without being asked. He was no longer complaining. Mia was already in the front seat.

Sergio finally pulled away from Niko and closed the door. Then there was nothing left to do.

Luka shut the boot.

"Where are you going?" Sergio asked.

Luka looked at him for the first time. "Home."

"You just got here."

"Croatia."

Sergio's expression changed. "What?"

"We're leaving today."

"You said next week."

"I changed it."

"Because of yesterday?"

Luka couldn't do this. Not here. Not with Niko crying behind the glass and Mia watching them through the windscreen. He opened the driver's door. Sergio caught it before he could get in.

"Luka."

"Please."

Sergio let go. That was all it took. Luka got into the car and closed the door.

For the first few minutes nobody said much.

Niko continued crying quietly in the back, and Mateo sat beside him looking confused enough that Luka knew questions were coming. Mia kept glancing at him.

Luka drove. He made it through two sets of lights before Niko sniffed loudly.

"I wanted another night." Luka gripped the steering wheel.

"I know."

"Why are we going to Croatia today?" Mateo asked it this time.

Luka looked at them in the mirror. Three faces looked back at him. He couldn't tell them that Tata had smelled another Omega on Papa and promptly lost his mind. He couldn't tell them that he was taking them to another country a week early because some ancient part of him was screaming to gather his pups and get as far away as possible.

So Luka smiled. It wasn't a very good smile. Mia knew that immediately.

"Because Grandma misses you so much that she couldn't wait another week."

Mateo's face brightened. "Really?"

"Really. She wants us there now."

"We're going today?"

"Today."

That worked on Mateo. Niko rubbed his face. "Is Grandma making palačinke?"

"Probably."

"With chocolate?"

"If you ask nicely."

His crying had already begun to slow. Luka made his smile a little bigger.

"Come on. This is good. We get an extra week in Croatia. Grandma's going to be so happy when she sees you."

Mateo started asking whether his cousins knew they were coming. Niko wanted to know if they could go swimming tomorrow. Within minutes the back seat had moved on to Croatia entirely, their disappointment over leaving Sergio temporarily overtaken by the excitement of going somewhere they loved. Only Mia stayed quiet. Luka glanced at her. She was looking out of the window, but after a moment she reached across the space between them and put her hand on Luka's arm. She didn't say anything. Luka didn't either. He just kept driving.

By the time they reached Luka's mother's house, it was nearly dark.

The children had been travelling all day and somehow still found enough energy to abandon Luka the moment they saw their baka waiting outside.

She cried, hugged all three of them at once, kissed their faces until Mateo complained and then immediately complained that they had greeted her in Spanish.

Luka left them to it and took the bags from the car. He was tired enough that even the noise felt good. The flight, the airports, getting three children and too many suitcases from one country to another while trying not to stop every time someone recognized him had left him with a headache that had started somewhere over Italy. He'd spent most of the day watching the children, watching their bags, watching the people around them. Here, he didn't have to watch anything. His mother had them.

Luka carried the last suitcase inside and finally breathed.

The children called Sergio that night.

Luka was in the shower when it happened and only realized afterward, when he came downstairs and found all three of them crowded around Mia's phone.

"Papa, look!"

Mateo was holding something much too close to the camera.

"You're covering it with your hand," Mia told him.

"I'm not."

"You are."

Niko climbed halfway over both of them. "Papa!"

Luka stopped on the stairs. Sergio's voice came faintly from the phone. Luka couldn't make out the words, only the familiar rise and fall of it. He turned around and went back upstairs.

It became easy to do that.

The children called their father constantly. In the morning before Sergio went to training, if they were awake early enough. In the afternoon because Mateo wanted to show him where they'd been swimming. At night because Niko had apparently developed an urgent need to tell Papa everything he'd eaten that day.

Mia spoke to him separately too. Luka knew because sometimes he passed her room and heard Sergio's voice behind the door.

He never told them not to call. He just made sure he wasn't there when they did. There was always somewhere else he could go. His mother's kitchen, outside, upstairs, down the road for something they didn't really need. By the third day, he'd become very good at recognizing the particular excitement that meant one of the children was about to call Papa and disappearing before the phone connected.

Once, he wasn't quick enough. He was lying outside in the shade when Niko came running toward him with Luka's phone in both hands.

"Tata."

Luka didn't look up from his book. "Hm?"

"Papa."

"No."

Niko pushed the phone toward him. "Papa wants you."

"I said no."

"But—"

"Niko."

His son frowned at him, then put the phone to his own ear. "Tata doesn't want."

Wonderful. Luka reached for it before Niko could report anything else.

"Give me that."

Niko surrendered the phone. Luka meant to end the call. Instead, for one second, he put it to his ear.

"Luka?"

That was all. Just his name in Sergio's voice, quieter than Luka had expected.

His thumb hit the screen. The call disappeared. Niko stared at him.

"You hung up on Papa."

"Yes."

"Why?" L

uka put the phone beside him and picked his book back up. "Because I didn't want to talk."

Niko thought about this.

"Papa sounded sad."

Luka's eyes remained on the same line. "Go find Mateo."

"But—"

"Niko."

He went. L

uka didn't read another word. It was easier to be angry.

He'd worked that out somewhere between Spain and Croatia. Anger had edges. He could do something with it. He could remember Sergio standing at the door smelling like somebody else and be furious that it had taken him two days, furious that Sergio had spent months behaving as though Luka would inevitably come back and then apparently taken him at his word the moment Luka finally said he wouldn't. Being angry meant Luka didn't have to think about why hearing Sergio say his name had made his chest hurt. So he stayed angry.

Croatia helped anyway. A week passed, and somewhere in it Luka stopped counting how many days it had been since he'd seen Sergio.

The children settled in faster than he did. They were outside most of the time, coming home dirty and hungry, disappearing again as soon as someone called for them.

Their Croatian improved by the day simply because there were enough people around them who refused to make life easy by switching languages.

His mother tried. Her Spanish had never developed much beyond whatever she'd picked up from Sergio and the children over the years, but that had never stopped her from using it with enormous confidence.

"Baka, where is my—"

"Croatian."

Niko frowned.

"I don't know the word."

"Then ask."

"That's what I'm doing." S

he stared at him. Niko stared back. Eventually she sighed and switched to Spanish to help him, badly enough that Mia started laughing from the other side of the kitchen. Luka smiled into his coffee.

By the end of the week even Niko was switching without noticing, occasionally putting a Spanish word into the middle of a Croatian sentence when he couldn't find the right one. His mother corrected him every time and then ruined her own efforts by answering him in Spanish whenever he looked confused. Luka didn't point this out. He valued his peace.

Sergio remained part of every day without being there.

Papa needed to see this. Papa would think that was funny. Papa said Mateo wasn't allowed to jump from there. Papa wanted a picture. Papa had called. Could they call Papa? When was Papa coming?

That last one appeared more often as the week went on. Luka never had a good answer. Sergio had training. Sergio was in Spain. Sergio couldn't simply appear in Croatia because they wanted him to.

The children seemed to regard all three of these things as problems Sergio should be perfectly capable of solving.

His mother listened.

Luka should probably have paid more attention to that.

On the eighth morning, something was wrong.

Nobody would tell him what.

His mother had been up earlier than usual, which meant very little on its own. What did mean something was Mateo and Niko eating breakfast without needing to be told five times to hurry up. Mia was worse. She couldn't look at him.

Luka drank his coffee and watched the three of them.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," Mia said.

"Obviously."

His mother was putting things into her handbag. Luka looked at her. "Where?"

"We have something to do."

"What?"

"Something."

Luka waited. His mother didn't elaborate. Mateo was smiling at his cereal.

"Why is he doing that?"

"I'm eating," Mateo said.

"You're smiling at your food."

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

Niko giggled. Luka looked between all four of them. Whatever it was, he was too tired to care.

"Fine." His mother kissed his cheek on the way past. That made him suspicious again.

"Mama."

"What?"

"...Please don't go buying them whatever they want now."

"Uhuh.." She left.

The children followed her with considerably more enthusiasm than was normal for whatever mysterious errand required all three of them before ten in the morning. The door closed. Luka stood in the kitchen for a moment. Then he decided he didn't want to know.

For the first time in a week, the house was completely quiet. He made another coffee. He took it outside, answered a few messages he'd been ignoring and enjoyed nearly forty minutes without anybody shouting for Tata, asking for food or putting Sergio on a phone and trying to force Luka to speak to him.

Then a car pulled up outside.

Luka glanced toward it without much interest. He didn't recognize it. The man getting out of it, unfortunately, he did.

Luka put his coffee down.

Vedran saw him almost immediately and grinned. Of course he did. By the time he reached the house, Luka was standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

"How did you know I was here?"

Vedran looked at him as though he'd asked something particularly stupid. "Luka."

"What?"

"Everyone knows you're here."

"I didn't tell anyone."

"You brought three children through an airport and then came to Zadar."

"So?"

"So my mother knew before I did."

Luka sighed and moved out of the doorway. Vedran hugged him on the way inside, grinning. It had been months since they'd seen each other, but Vedran had never been someone who required much adjustment. He walked into Luka's mother's kitchen, opened the wrong cupboard looking for glasses and complained when Luka told him the coffee was already outside. "You moved everything."

"My mother moved everything."

"Same thing."

"It's her house."

Vedran found a glass eventually and followed him out. For a while, it was easy. They talked about people Luka hadn't seen yet, about football, about Vedran's family.

Vedran informed him that half the people they'd grown up with had already asked whether he'd seen Luka, and Luka told him he was free to tell all of them that Luka had died on the flight over.

Vedran considered it.

"Your mother might object."

"She'll get over it."

"She won't."

"No."

Vedran laughed. Luka hadn't realized how much he'd missed him. That was probably why it took nearly an hour before Vedran leaned back in his chair and looked at him properly.

"Where's Sergio?"

Luka kept his eyes on his coffee. "Spain."

"I assumed Spain still existed."

"It does."

"And?"

"And what?" Vedran was quiet for a moment. Luka looked up.

"Don't."

"I haven't said anything."

"I know your face."

"You've always been very interested in my face."

"Vedran."

"All right."

He let it go. For about five minutes. Then he asked, "Is that why you look like shit?"

Luka stared at him. Vedran smiled.

"You can leave."

"I just got here!"

"An hour ago."

"Exactly."

Luka was still deciding whether throwing something at him would be worth getting up when he heard voices outside.

The children. They were loud enough that Luka could hear Niko before the gate had even properly opened. Vedran looked toward the house.

"Your mother?"

"With the kids,yeah." Luka stayed where he was.

Something about the noise made him frown. Mateo was laughing. Mia said something too quickly for him to catch. His mother shushed somebody, which immediately resulted in Niko getting louder. Then Luka heard a man's voice.

His whole body recognized it before his mind did. He stood.

Vedran looked at him.

The back door opened. Niko came through first, practically bouncing.

Tata!"

Mateo was behind him, grinning. Mia came next, watching Luka much more carefully than either of her brothers. His mother appeared behind them. She looked extremely pleased with herself.

And then Sergio stepped through the door.

For one second Luka forgot about Vedran entirely. Sergio looked tired from travelling, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, one of Niko's bags hanging from his shoulder because apparently he'd already been made responsible for carrying things.

His eyes found Luka immediately. They stayed there. Until Vedran stood up behind him.

Sergio's gaze moved past Luka.

Vedran went quiet.

Luka closed his eyes.