Baran hesitated, then moved through the rows of tables, bending to take sheets of paper from eager little hands. Some were crumpled, others carefully folded, and a few had smudged handwriting or misspelled words that made his heart ache. As he moved, he caught glimpses of what they had written—requests for toys, books, warm clothes, or even wishes that couldn’t be bought.
When he picked one from a little girl, she said, “Thank you, Baran. Can you adopt me?”
“I wish I could, but I’m still in school. What do you want for Christmas?”
“I want two dolls.”
“Did you write it down?”
“Yes.”
The atmosphere tugged at Baran in a way he hadn’t expected. He’d never been to a placement center before, and seeing these innocent children locked up in this building broke his heart.
Daddy Darien, meanwhile, floated around the room like he belonged there, crouching to talk to a shy little girl clutching a tattered doll or ruffling the hair of a boy who tried to show off a hastily drawn picture of a reindeer. His demeanor made everyone light up, and for a moment, Baran was struck by how natural it seemed. Like Darien had done this a hundred times before.
Baran glanced around the room as he folded the collected Santa lists into a neat bundle in a basket Mary gave him, then he handed the basket to Darien. He realized he’d remember this moment for a long time, the bittersweet hum of it settling deep in his chest. He aspired to be Daddy Darien’s forever helper.
Chapter Twenty-three
Darien
When they arrived home,Darien headed straight to the kitchen, the warmth of the home already beginning to chase away the bite of the cold outside. He set about making hot chocolate, enjoying the familiar rhythm of stirring cocoa into milk. The rich scent filled the air as he poured two steaming mugs and handed one to Baran.
With a quiet smile, Darien leaned against the counter. “I have some good news,” he said, watching Baran’s face. “You got accepted into New York University.”
Baran’s eyes widened, and a grin broke across his face. “I did? That’s amazing! This is all because of you and Professor Fletcher.” he exclaimed, his joy unrestrained.
“No, it was your hard work. We just pointed you in the right direction.”
Darien reached behind him to grab a packet from the counter and held it out. “There’s more. This is from the university. I collected all I could for you. It’s for you to start your citizenship application.”
Baran’s expression shifted from surprise to something softer, almost reverent. He took the packet carefully, as if it might disappear if he wasn’t careful.
“And don’t worry about tuition,” Darien added quickly. “You’ll qualify for a scholarship. It’s all going to work out. This happened because you worked hard at Istanbul University.”
Baran looked up, his gratitude clear in his gaze. “Thank you, Daddy Darien. For everything.”
Darien smiled, but before the moment grew too heavy, he nodded toward the living room. They made their way there and sat on the sofa side by side.
“So, how did the Christmas shopping go for the men at the shelter?”
Baran perked up at the question, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “It was great! Silas came with me since he didn’t have to work, and the driver helped with everything. We picked out so many good things, had pizza afterward, and just…had a lot of fun.”
A smile spread across Darien’s face. “Sounds like a good time. I’m glad you had help.”
Baran nodded, his earlier joy still lingering in his smile. It was moments like this, Darien thought, that made everything worth it—the laughter, the connection, the shared hope for better days ahead.
“I’ll apply for a student visa tomorrow.”
“Great plan. I missed you last night.”
“I had a difficult time sleeping.”
They finished their steaming hot chocolate, the warmth lingering in their hands, and carried their empty mugs to the kitchen, rinsing them thoroughly before putting them in the dishwasher. While Baran stood from being bent over the dishwasher, Darien lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder and climbed the stairs. Baran landed on top of the bed, his uncontrollable laughter echoing through the room.
“My boy better start behaving.”
“Yes, Daddy Darien. Was I bad again?”
