Chapter 26
“He’ll be here soon,” Jemma said, wringing her hands as she paced in tight, anxious circles around the small family room.
“I know,” Jasper replied calmly, seated on the floor with Jayla nestled in his lap. He gently tapped her tiny hands together, making exaggerated faces as he did. Jayla squealed with delight, her round cheeks dimpling as she giggled.
Jasper wasn’t sure if it was the clapping or the faces she liked best—and honestly, he didn’t care. His niece was, in his view, the most enchanting human on the planet. He could’ve sat there entertaining her all evening.
“You’re not going to abandon me, are you?” Jemma asked suddenly, her voice low and tight.
Jasper looked up at her and saw it—the real fear behind her bravado. The slight tremble in her voice. The darting glance toward the door.
“Never,” he said, serious now. “I promise. I’ll be right here.”
“Good. Good.” She nodded quickly and resumed pacing.
Her arms crossed, then uncrossed. She ran her hands through her hair, then stopped, clearly realizing she was messing it up.
Jasper watched silently. She was wound too tight.
A hug wouldn’t help. Maybe a glass of wine—but she wouldn’t touch alcohol. Not while she was still nursing.
So instead, he looked down at Jayla and sang softly, “Your momma is a wreck, sweet girl…” He wiggled her arms. “Yes, she is!”
Jemma shot him a sharp look over her shoulder, but he grinned. She didn’t say anything, and the sound of Jayla’s delighted giggles lightened the air in the room.
The knock came, low and firm, and Jemma froze mid-step.
Jasper turned Jayla to face the door. “He’s here!” he whispered dramatically in her ear. “Mommy’s scared! She likes him, but she’s scared too!”
Jemma rolled her eyes at the over-the-top commentary, but her hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment too long. Jasper didn’t miss the hesitation. Nor did Jayla, who bounced in anticipation of whatever game was happening next.
Finally, Jemma took a deep breath and opened the door.
Saif stood there, holding a large paper bag with the unmistakable logo of one of the city’s most famous cheesesteak joints.
Jasper’s eyes widened. “Oh boy! Pat’s Cheesesteaks? Jackpot!”
He bounced to his feet, still holding Jayla, and walked over. With practiced ease, he handed the baby into Saif’s waiting arms and grabbed the bag in exchange.
“Thanks,” he said cheerfully, already heading to the kitchen. “Smells amazing.”
Saif didn’t respond.
His full attention was on the baby now resting in his arms.
Jemma stood to the side, watching the moment unfold with a tight chest. Jayla blinked up at Saif with wide, curious eyes—exactly his eyes. Her small fingers reached out, patting at the dark fabric of his jacket. She didn’t fuss. She didn’t cry. She just… looked.
And Saif looked right back.
It was like the world paused for a beat.
If there had been any lingering doubt about Jayla’s paternity, it disappeared the instant they were side by side. The resemblance was undeniable, uncanny. Father and daughter. Mirrored souls.
Back in the kitchen, Jasper whistled. “Damn, this is a lot of food.” He began pulling sandwiches and fries from the bag. “Seven cheesesteaks? And six things of fries? Were you planning to feed the neighborhood?”
Still no reply.
Saif was transfixed. His hand gently cupped the back of Jayla’s head, steadying her as she reached up and tugged his collar with surprising strength. He let her, a quiet smile pulling at his lips.
From the kitchen, Jasper peeked around the corner. He watched Saif and Jayla quietly for a moment, then turned to Jemma, whose expression had softened—though her posture remained stiff, uncertain.
“It looks like you two have things under control,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I’ll leave you to... do whatever it is you need to do.”
And with that, he disappeared into his room, already chewing a bite of cheesesteak. The walls were thin—he’d still hear every word. But he knew enough to give them space. His absence would help.