Laiken
Garlic hisses the second it hits the hot oil. The sound is loud in the kitchen as the fragrant scent blooms throughout the space. Normally, a task this simple would soothe me. Cooking is routine. Controlled. A series of steps I know by heart.
Tonight, though, it doesn’t.
All I hear is the tiny heartbeat. That steady, impossible sound from earlier today. Strong, fast, and real. No matter how much I focus on what I’m doing, part of me is still standing in that exam room, listening to proof that everything has changed.
Behind me, Elody giggles. It’s one of my favorite sounds in the whole damn world.
“Look, Kia,” she says, voice filled with pride. “I added sparkles.”
I turn, taking in the sight of Kia on the living room rug with my daughter, head bent, blonde hair falling forward as she leans over whatever masterpiece Elody has created. Elody sits cross-legged next to her, tongue sticking out in concentration. A pile of markers and crayons lay scattered across the coffee table.
It’s domestic and absurdly normal. The kind of moment I gave up thinking would happen. It punches me right in the gut that Kia has come into our lives out of nowhere and fits in so effortlessly. I grip the fork harder than necessary, and fluff the rice as that thought echoes in my head.
Kia laughs at something Elody says. It’s a warm and quiet sound. And I like hearing it almost as much as my daughter’s.
Which is a problem.
Elody pops up and sprints into the kitchen like she’s been fired out of a cannon. “Daddy! Look!”
After setting the fork down, I wipe my hands on a dish towel as she thrusts the paper at me. It’s a stick figure family. One of them is tall and another is tiny with wild hair. Besides them is another figure with long blonde hair.
A lump rises in my throat.
“That’s me,” Elody announces, tapping the small figure before pointing to the taller one. “And that’s you, Daddy.” Then she motions to the blonde. “And that’s Kia.”
I blink once and then again, unsure how to handle this.
“Kia isn’t part of our family, bug,” I say carefully.
Elody frowns, as if I’ve said something absurd. “Yes, she is.”
I open my mouth to respond but don’t get the chance.
Kia’s calm voice drifts in from the living room. “El, honey, I’m not?—”
“But you are!” Elody cuts in, spinning toward the woman, as if she expected backup. “You stay here now and take me to school. That means you’re our family.”
When Kia stills, I feel the shift from across the room as Elody’s gaze lifts to mine. Her eyes are bright and filled with trust.
It’s the kind of trust I can’t afford to mishandle.
“Sweetheart,” I say gently, crouching until we’re nearly eye level with one another. “Kia’s here to help out. She’s going to stay for a while, okay?”
“But is she staying forever?” Elody asks. “Why can’t Kia stay with us forever, Daddy?”
My chest tightens just enough to make breathing difficult. Kia’s guarded gaze snaps to me, and I can almost see her bracing for my response. Unfortunately, in this situation, there’s no right answer.
“She’s staying for now,” I say cautiously, only wanting to manage my little girl’s expectations.
Elody’s lower lip thrusts out. “I want her here forever.”
“I know, bug.” My voice comes out unsteady, despite my best efforts, as I smooth back her hair. All I want to do is shield Elody from further pain. “But for now is good, isn’t it?”
She considers the question before reluctantly nodding. “I guess.” Then her face brightens. “I’m going to make another picture, and Kia can keep it in her room so she never forgets us.”
I force a smile. “That’s a great idea.”
