Chapter 11 #2
Her dark eyes flicked over my face, as if looking for the truth.
“I didn’t have Milo before,” I said. “I do now. That’s a joy that you’ve brought me; a son to play music with, a son to talk about books with, a son to watch grow.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “And then there’s Jay.”
I took a moment to find the right words for this one.
“Jay told you he was nervous before the playoffs,” I said.
“He mentioned it afterward—that he’d talked to you.
He has never told me when he’s scared—he thinks he has to be strong.
He puts his head down and pushes through, and I can never reach him when he does it.
” I lifted her chin to hold her gaze. “I don’t know what you said to him, but he was easier after.
He let you in, Kesha, and I’ve been trying for twelve years.
That’s my son. He needed something, and I couldn’t give it to him, and you gave it without being asked. He’s your son, same as Milo is mine.”
A firefly pulsed at the edge of the deck, then another, and a third. They were around us, but neither of us broke the spell by looking away.
I thought, maybe, I saw understanding in her eyes. And hope.
“You don’t need to keep score, dkaar, because this isn’t a contest. You can’t possibly understand how special you’ve made our lives.”
“What does that mean?” she sniffed. “Dah-car? You said it before.”
I smiled in the growing darkness. “Beloved. You’re my wife, Kesha. It’s a different bond than the Mating Bond; one we’ve chosen.”
Her lips formed the word dkaar as her eyes grew wide with something that looked like wonder, and my smile grew.
I shifted so I could pull her back against my chest, rubbing her back again as we watched the dance of the fireflies around us on the porch and out in the yard. “Now, dkaar, why don’t you tell me about Mr. Smalls and the Northstar Lending Solutions?”
Kesha hesitated only a moment.
She took a long breath. I felt it move through her before she started to speak.
“Milo needed help.” The words made my chest ache, made me regret not being in their lives sooner.
“When he was little, it was obvious something was different about the way he processed the world—sounds, textures, transitions, other kids. So I got him assessed, and then assessed again, and then we had some answers, and the answers came with a list.”
The breath she took was nothing short of shuddering.
“Therapies. Occupational therapy, speech therapy, and a behavioral specialist who actually understood him—who could teach him the tools to get through the hard moments.” She shook her head.
“That kind of help isn’t cheap. And it’s not covered, not really, not when you’re a freelancer with a marketplace plan that technically includes mental health coverage but in practice covers nothing that costs real money. So I paid out of pocket. For years.”
I felt her jaw tighten against my shoulder.
“And then I ran out of pocket.” Her voice stayed even.
Practiced, like she’d told this part to herself a lot.
“I looked at what the therapies were doing for him—how much better he was doing, how many fewer hard days he had, how he’d learned to breathe through the moments that used to wreck him completely—and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t.”
Another long breath.
“Northstar was running ads on a parenting forum I was on. Fast approval, flexible repayment.” She said it with the flat tiredness of someone who’d had time to get tired of being angry at herself.
“I knew it was a bad idea, but I borrowed the money anyway. And then I kept borrowing. And then I couldn’t stop that either. ”
Neither of us said anything.
“And then you couldn’t repay it,” I said.
“No.” A short exhale. “And then I couldn’t repay it.”
The fireflies blinked in the dark at the edge of the yard. I held on. Held onto her, held onto my anger at the system that made shit like this happen when anyone could see how perfect Milo was.
“Northstar took advantage of you,” I finally managed.
“Hell yes they did.” She blew out a breath, then lifted her head and brushed her hair from her face.
“I knew it was happening, but I didn’t see a way around it.
Then, when you suggested marriage, I thought I could just…
escape. Run away from it, start over, and wipe the slate clean.
” She paused. “Should have realized that marriage certificates were public records.”
“It’s not your fault.” I squeezed her gently but didn’t pull her back. She was watching the fireflies—no, here in the east they called them lightning bugs. “I would have done the same for Jay, if he needed it.”
Kesha swung her gaze to me. “Really?”
“Really.” I resisted the urge to kiss the surprise from her mouth. “And I’ve been saving money for years, Kesha. I put a substantial downpayment on this house, but have more than enough in investments to pay Northstar—”
“It’s my debt,” she was quick to point out.
My lips twitched. Still keeping score. “I paid a chunk of it today, and Smalls and I set up a plan. How about I take care of bills and the mortgage, and you put your income toward the monthly plan we arranged?”
Her lips tugged into a frown. “That still feels like I’m taking advantage of you. You pay for my life while I pay off my debt.”
I gave in to the urge and leaned forward to kiss her gently. “That’s marriage, dkaar.”
When she sighed, I inhaled her sweetness. “Beloved.”
“I love you, Kesha.”
She was silent for a long moment, her forehead pressed to mine, before she sighed again. “I don’t understand how, but I’m not going to argue.”
“Because you love me?” I prompted.
I felt her smile.
“Because I love you, Korrad. How could I not?”
My heart swelled.
I suppose I’d known her feelings, or had felt them somehow, because I wasn’t surprised to hear her vow. Her words settled in my chest with a certainty that everything would be alright, that our future was secure.
So why the fuck was my Kteer still unsatisfied, still buzzing in my chest like a hive of hornets?
Damn thing was going to drive me nuts.
Kesha reached up and cupped my cheek, then repeated herself. “I love you, but is it enough?”
Still keeping score? Chuckling slightly, I shook my head.
“Of course it’s enough. It’ll always be enough, Kesha.”
I had all weekend to convince her.
So I wrapped my arms around my wife and stood. “Come on, love. Let’s go pour some wine and reheat some carbs in the air fryer and watch some romcom with a ridiculous premise.”
Kesha’s laugh was weak, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her cheek to my bare shoulder. “All of those words are my love language. Do we still have that cookie dough ice cream in the freezer?”
“We absolutely do.” I carried her into the house and right into our bedroom. The one we’d be sharing for the rest of our lives, just like Milo had requested. “You put on something cozy. I’ll cue up the movie and reheat the food.”
I settled her on her feet, then pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I love you, Kesha.”
As I pulled away, she grabbed my hand to stop me. I froze and watched her eyes fill with tears, even though she was smiling.
“I love you, husband.”
Grinning, I raised her hand to my mouth and placed a kiss on her palm. “Always.”