Chapter 14
Sayla
T he house smelled like plaster dust and damp wood, but at least the lights worked now. The contractors had done a solid job rewiring everything and were nearly finished with the plumbing. Obviously, I didn’t have a bath since it had fallen straight through the ceiling like some kind of tragic slapstick joke, but I had running water. That counted for something. I could go to my parent’s place in the morning to shower, and having that extra time with them wasn’t that bad.
The new bathroom was waiting on the structural repairs, which, in theory, should be finished within the week. They’d found more damage than anyone expected, hidden rot and warped beams, all of which I’d had to report to the insurance company. Fingers crossed, they'd cover it. Still, the idea of packing up and moving in with my sister or parents, even temporarily until it was done, didn’t sit right with me. Sure, it would’ve made life easier, but I didn’t want to be too far from Roque—especially not today.
I walked to the front window and gently tilted the wooden blinds open, peering through the slats just as Roque’s car pulled into his driveway across the street. My breath caught. He got out, gently holding Kairo’s hand while Kaida was curled up against his chest, her little arms around his neck. My heart melted at the sight, but that warmth turned quickly into worry.
They’d been through so much already, losing their parents and being uprooted from everything familiar. I didn’t even know if they truly understood what "gone forever" meant regarding their mom and dad. The weight of it pressed down on me, thick and heavy.
I let the blinds fall back into place and sighed, my chest tight. The silence of the half-repaired house suddenly felt too much. I grabbed my bag and keys, deciding to head to my sister’s. A visit with my niece and nephew might lift my spirits—and I could finally have a proper bath, hopefully without it crashing through the ceiling this time.
I hovered by the window for a moment longer, watching Roque carry the kids inside. Kaida had her head tucked against his shoulder, curls bouncing slightly with each step. Kairo trailed close, his small hand still clenched tightly in Roque’s. My phone was already in my hand before I even realized it.
“ You okay? Need anything? ” I typed, thumb hesitating over the send button for a second before I pressed it.
The message went through instantly, but I didn’t wait around for a reply. He had enough on his plate, and I knew he’d text back when he could.
I slipped on my boots and shrugged into my jacket, stuffing a few things into my bag—a change of clothes, some toiletries, and the good conditioner my sister always tried to steal. Locking up took longer than it should’ve, mostly because I double-checked everything out of habit. The house was still in recovery mode, and part of me didn’t trust it not to fall apart the second I walked away.
The air outside was cool, early evening creeping in, and the sky was beginning to tint that soft shade of lavender. I glanced over at Roque’s house as I got into my car, but the curtains were drawn now. The lights were on. They were safe, that was enough.
When I reached my sister’s place, the smell of something rich and buttery was drifting from the kitchen. She opened the door with one hip, my baby nephew Kingston on her arm, and a smudge of flour on her cheek.
“Hey,” she said, eyebrows lifting. “Rough day?”
I gave her a half-smile. “Define rough.”
She stepped aside, letting me in with a knowing look. “The bath’s clean and hot. The towels are in the usual place. Dinner’s in an hour, assuming these two gremlins let me cook in peace.”
“Bless you,” I muttered, kissing her cheek before heading down the hall.
As the door to the bathroom clicked shut behind me and my niece giggling echoed faintly from the living room, I exhaled. This house felt whole and steady.
I turned on the taps and watched steam curl up from the water. And for the first time all day, I let myself stop thinking—just for a moment.
The bath was glorious—hot, fragrant, and, most importantly, still attached to the floor. I sank deeper into the water, letting the heat soak into my bones, my head resting back against a rolled towel. The only light in the room came from the hallway, warm and dim, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, I felt almost human again.
My phone buzzed on the countertop beside the sink. I reached out with dripping fingers, careful not to drop it.
Roque: All okay. Kids are settling in. I missed you today.
A soft smile tugged at my lips, and my fingers hovered before I typed back.
Me: I’m at Heidi’s. I needed a bath that didn’t end in disaster.
The reply came fast.
Roque: Jealous. Send me a photo.
I rolled my eyes, grinning despite myself. I angled the camera so it showed only my legs, submerged in the water, with a bit of the steam-fogged mirror in the background. Not risqué, but suggestive enough. I took the photo and hit send.
His typing bubble popped up almost instantly, then disappeared, and then popped up again. I could practically hear him swearing under his breath and trying to think of something clever to say. I laughed quietly and set the phone aside, letting the warmth of the moment settle around me.
After a long soak, I pulled myself out, wrapped up in one of Heidi’s oversized towels, and padded down the hallway to change into fresh clothes. Once I was done, I followed the faint clinking of pots into the kitchen, where Heidi was stirring something on the stove, one hip cocked out, a glass of wine within reach.
“You look about seventeen percent less dead,” she said, glancing at me with a smirk.
“Thanks. That’s about how I feel.” I leaned against the counter, watching her move. “Dinner smells amazing.”
“Are you staying? I made enough for you, obviously.”
I nodded, hesitating for a second before blurting, “I’ve been hooking up with Roque.”
She didn’t even blink, just kept stirring.
I frowned. “That’s it? No dramatic gasp?”
Heidi snorted. “Sayla, please, I’m your sister, and I’m not blind. I’ve known since December. The man looks at you like you hung the damn moon.”
I blinked. “You knew?”
“Course I did,” she said, finally turning to face me, lips twitching with amusement. “You were always suddenly ‘busy’ whenever he was in town, and youdo notlook that disheveled from a snowstorm that keeps you inside the whole time.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could get a word out, a whirlwind of pink and curls came barreling into the kitchen.
“Auntie Sayla!” Nemi cried, launching herself at my legs and wrapping her arms around me. “Come watch Shrek ! We started without you, but it’s the part where the donkey sings!”
I glanced at Heidi, who lifted her glass and said, “You’re doomed now.”
Laughing, I scooped Nemi up and let her drag me toward the living room.
“Okay, okay! But only if I get to sing, too.”
“You have to sing,” she said seriously. “It’s the law.”
And just like that, the weight in my chest eased a little. For now, it was enough to be here—warm, safe, and wrapped in the arms of a kid who believed Shrek was the peak of cinematic genius.
Honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
Roque
“How are you holding up?” Evie asked quietly, her gaze following Elora as she played with Kairo and Kaida in the living room.
From the kitchen, the low murmur of conversation drifted toward us—our parents talking with Evie’s husband, Alex, along with his son, the sheriff, DB, and his wife, Tabby. We’d thought about introducing their kids, too, but it felt like too much. Kairo and Kaida had already been through enough. Meeting a house full of new faces might just push them over the edge.
I leaned back into the couch, the weight of it all settling in my chest. “It hit me last night, this is real. Kemble and Aislinn are really gone. And now I’m responsible for these two amazing kids who don’t fully understand how much their world has changed.”
“Son,” my dad’s voice came from behind us, making Evie jump slightly. He rested a firm hand on my shoulder as he stepped around the couch. “You just joined the best club in the world—it just happened in the worst way.”
He lowered himself into the chair beside us, eyes kind but heavy with the same grief I carried. “Losing Kemble and Aislinn… there’s no softening that. But they knew exactly who they wanted to raise their kids. They trusted you with that because they knew you’d give them everything.”
I managed a small, sad smile as Kaida picked up a doll and began chattering with Elora. Her voice was high and sweet, and she was entirely unaware of the storm they were in.
“I just wish they still had their real parents to guide them,” I murmured. “They deserved that.”
“You’re not doing this alone,” Evie said softly, her voice steady. I already knew it, but hearing it aloud helped more than I expected.
I let out a slow breath, running a hand over my face. “I don’t know how to be a parent,” I admitted, my voice low. “All I know is what I’ve seen other people do. Like this morning… I knew they had to brush their teeth and eat breakfast but after that?” I shook my head. “I didn’t know if there was something else they were supposed to do. Are they on vitamins? Do they use mouthwash? Do they eat something specific every day—like those weird yogurt tubes or dinosaur-shaped waffles?”
Evie smiled sympathetically, but it was Dad who spoke first.
“Roque,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, “no parent knows what they’re doing at the beginning. Not really. We all start in the dark. And even when you’ve got more than one kid, each is different. You just adapt and adjust. You figure it out as you go and do it with love—that’s what matters.”
I swallowed hard, his words hitting me deeper than I expected.
Evie nudged my arm with her elbow. “He’s right. And if you need anything, you call me, okay? I don’t care what time it is. Questions, help, a break, whatever. You’re not on your own.”
I nodded slowly, letting her words sink in. “I’ve got Sayla, too,” I admitted, almost hesitantly. I braced for some kind of reaction, especially from Evie, who was not only best friends with Sayla but also co-owned a business with her. I figured she’d either grill me or tease me to death.
But instead, Dad just smiled and said, “I like her. Always have.”
Evie actually squealed. Quietly, but still.
“Finally,” she whispered, grinning like she’d just won a bet. “I knew something was going on. I’ve been waitingmonths for one of you to admit it.”
I blinked. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad? Roque, please. She’s one of my favorite people on the planet. And shecaresabout you and the kids, that’s what counts. Honestly, I was starting to think you were both going to dance around it forever.”
Relief washed through me, lighter than anything I’d felt in days. For a moment, the uncertainty quieted. I wasn’t doing this alone. And maybe I didn’t have all the answers—but I had people in my corner—good people.
And somehow, that made all the difference.
The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after a long, exhausting day. The porch light glowed softly above us, casting a warm circle that barely reached the edge of the steps. I stood there holding Sayla, my arms wrapped snugly around her waist like I didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon.
I’d texted her after the kids were finally down for the night—Kairo had asked for water three times, and Kaida had insisted her stuffed rabbit needed a pillow of its own. But eventually, they’d both drifted off. And now, here we were.
I told her everything—how the day had gone, the tiny wins, the unknowns, what my dad had said, and how Evie hadn’t even blinked when I mentioned Sayla. She listened quietly, the way she always did, asking soft, thoughtful questions that made it easier to breathe.
When I finally fell silent, she pulled away just enough to reach down and pick up a small tote bag she’d brought with her. She turned in my arms, setting it gently between us.
“I talked to Heidi earlier,” she said, unzipping it. “Asked her what you might need, and she listed these as essentials.”
She pulled out kid themed toothbrushes, a tube of sparkly toothpaste with cartoon dinosaurs on it, some children’s Tylenol and Benadryl, a pack of wipes, little bandaids with smiling sharks, and a bottle of chewable vitamins.
“She said this was the must have list, so I figured they must be important,” she added with a small shrug, eyes searching mine.
I stared at the bag, then back at her, something warm and grateful tugging at my chest. I leaned in and kissed her—slow, deliberate. “Thank you,” I murmured against her lips.
She smiled softly, then leaned back a little, her fingers lacing with mine. “How was your day?”
I huffed a laugh. “You mean besides having my heart pulled in fifteen directions?”
“Yeah,” she said, teasing gently. “That part, I can guess.”
I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me about yours.”
She sighed and shifted her weight. “I ended up standing in for Evie at the shop today. They're working on the drywall and all the crap in my house, and I didn’t want to be there while that was going on. It’d be too noisy and dusty.”
“How’s that going?” I asked, my voice low.
“They’re saying another two weeks, maybe a little less. Things were moving fast at first, but they slowed everything down while the survey was done. I’m just hoping they don’t find more problems.” She paused, rubbing her arms absently. “The insurance company’s assessing the new claim, but my case manager warned me they might not cover all of it.”
I frowned, jaw tightening. “Let me know if they come back with a hard no. I’ve got a couple of guys who owe me favors.”
Sayla went quiet for a beat, then stepped into me and burrowed her face into my chest, her voice muffled against my shirt. “I miss you.”
I wrapped my arms around her again, holding her tighter. “I miss you, too.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, eyes glossy but steady. “The kids come first, though. So, if you need anything, feel overwhelmed or unsure, or just need someone to talk to—call me. I mean it.”
I nodded, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “They come first, yeah, but so do you.”
Her eyes flicked away for a second, like maybe it was too much to hold in that moment. I caught her chin gently and tilted her face back to mine. “I mean it. Don’t disappear on me, Sayla. Not when we’re finally in this.”
She nodded slightly, then glanced around the dark yard beyond the porch. “You got security yet?”
“Yeah,” I said, resting my chin lightly on her blonde head. “Just had it installed. It feeds straight to my phone, and I’ve got motion lights now too.”
She looked up at me again, lips twitching. “You sound like a dad already.”
“Guess I am in a sense, but it’s important they don’t forget Kemble,” I sighed, exhaling through my nose. “But what about you? You got a system?”
“There was one in the house when I moved in,” she admitted. “I just… haven’t really used it.”
“Start using it,” I ordered, not even pretending to keep the edge out of my voice. “Seriously, Sayla, things are different now. Watch what’s going on around you. Lock your doors and set your alarm. Don’t take chances.”
Her mouth curved into a soft smile, but there was something serious behind her eyes, too. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I will.”
And even though the night was still, and the porch was warm, I held her just a little tighter—because nothing felt more important than ensuring she was safe.