10. Anya
CHAPTER 10
“How do you think this one looks?” I ask Gigi.
She looks up from watching Kira sleep. She hums as her gaze sweeps over me, starting from the boots I’m wearing and sweeping up to my dark denim jeans and the brown cardigan. “You look like a mom.”
I frown. “No jokes, be serious.”
“Okay. Okay. You look casual.” Under her breath, she mutters, “Exactly how a mom would look.”
“Casual is okay.” I take in her cowboy hat, her boots, and the way her shirt is tucked into her denim pants. “Why are you wearing that by the way?”
She looks at herself. “Why am I wearing what?”
“You’re dressed like a cowgirl. It’s a bonfire night, Gigi. We’re not going to a rodeo.”
Gianna’s teeth sink in her lower lip as she smiles. “It’s a bonfire night with cowboys and their plastic bulls. I need to look decent.”
“Decent,” I echo. An interesting way to say she’s attracted to one of the cowboys. I know my cousin well enough, and she wouldn’t be dressed like this otherwise.
I walk to Kira’s crib and kiss her forehead. She’s sleeping soundly, as if she knows her mommy has other plans for tonight.
Brandon's mother kindly offered to watch Kira for the evening. She jokingly said that bonfire nights are meant for young people looking for romance, not for old fogies like herself and her husband.
Back in New York, I was hesitant to let anyone watch my daughter, but Mrs. Jackson is practically Kira's grandmother, even though she doesn't know it yet. My daughter likes her, and I couldn't possibly deny her the chance to spend time with her grandmother. It's hard enough keeping the truth from them.
I walk around the house, grabbing a bag and throwing Kira’s things in. Diapers, food to last her for the night, some of her toys just in case she wakes up, though I suspect Alessa will keep her entertained enough not to trouble her grandma.
“Are you ready?” Gianna asks from the bedroom. “We’ll be late for the decoration if we don’t leave now.”
I take a quick look inside the bag to make sure I haven't forgotten anything before zipping it up and picking it up.
Gianna is already holding Kira when I come back to the bedroom, and Kira is still peacefully asleep. "I'm ready," I say. My cousin nods and we head towards the door.
The sun is setting, giving the small town a beautiful warm light as we make our way to Jackson's house.
I knock just once and retract when I hear footsteps. Mrs. Jackson opens the door almost immediately, as if she’s been expecting me.
“Hi, Mrs. Jackson,” Gianna and I say in unison.
She smiles broadly, her eyes gleaming as she spots Kira. “Is she sleeping?”
“She’s been asleep for an hour now,” I reply. “I hope it’s not too much trouble to take care of her.”
Mrs. Jackson waves off my concern. “I like children, it’s really not a problem, and Alessa will be happy to have her here.”
“Thank you so much.”
“It’s fine.” She first takes the bag from me, then Kira from Gianna. “You girls have fun.”
“We will. Thank you.” Gianna and I set out for the annual bonfire night celebration.
“You know she’ll be ecstatic when she finds out Kira is actually her granddaughter, right?”
“Or maybe she’ll be upset that I lied to her,” I say. Brandon will be mad too. It’s been weighing on my mind heavily since Brandon came to the clinic. I’ve tried to avoid it, but I can’t keep the truth from them forever.
Gianna shakes her head in disagreement. “You didn’t lie. You just didn’t tell them.”
“Lying by omission is still a lie, Gigi.”
“Well, it’s not your fault,” she retorts. “You became a single mother at twenty-three, in your final year of college, and your baby daddy disappeared the night you conceived Kira. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
I let out a sigh. “Let’s talk about something else, something more relaxing, like drinking and flirting.”
She giggles. “You? Flirting? I almost thought becoming a mother has turned you into a nun.”
I poke her ribs. “Girl, I thought the same until I met Brandon again.”
Her jaw falls open. “Don’t tell me you still like him.”
My cheeks heat up, and I shrug. “More like I’m still attracted to him. Nothing serious. He’s handsome and all that. It’s normal for me to feel that way.”
“And he’s your baby daddy, don’t forget that.” She gives me a wink.
The community center is quite busy when we arrive. Some of the residents have set up a music band at the corner of the open field in front of the building. A group of cowboys are taking turns riding a plastic bull at another corner. A few senior residents turn up to help too, we join the chat with them including Marianna.
I scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Brandon. "Isn't he just stunning?" Gianna says, her eyes sparkling like shooting stars as she speaks of him.
I follow her gaze to a man among the bull riders, who I can only assume is Joe. According to what I've heard, he comes from a family that owns a ranch in the near town.
Suddenly, it all makes sense why Gianna dressed up like a cowgirl tonight. I knew there had to be some connection to a cowboy. Joe is undeniably attractive, but not in the same way as Brandon - the type that makes my heart skip a beat or two. Joe notices Gianna admiring him and gives her a wave and a smile in return.
Gianna waves back. She’s grinning from ear to ear. I can tell she has a massive crush on him.
“I’m out of here,” she says. “Looks like I’ve found something busy to do with my time.”
I huff out a breath. “You’re going to him? What happens to me then?”
“Come along if you want. Find a cute guy and hook up with him. Enjoy whatever show they put on tonight. It’s really up to you, cuz.”
She’s already strolling to Joe before I can muster a reply.
Great! Now I’m all on my own.
Excitement bubbles in my chest as I weave through the crowd, the sounds of laughter and chatter filling the air.
I spot Brandon standing near the edge of the field, talking to Mariana. His tall frame towering above the crowd. He’s wearing a gray shirt that’s straining against the muscles of his biceps, and his brown eyes are so bright under the moonlight and the bonfire.
Dashing. That’s the only word that can do him justice. His looks are unquestionably unfair, a gift from the gods. Avoiding him is a constant struggle, but one I refuse to give in to.
I haven’t fully healed from the pain of how he left two years ago, but my anger has begun to soften as he's given me a valid explanation. He's my daughter's father, and I can't hold onto resentment or continue to avoid him forever. And then there's his undeniable handsomeness. Resisting his allure takes an immense amount of willpower, a weight I constantly carry on my shoulders.
A flicker of anticipation courses through me as I approach him again after I finished my community duty and made sure Marianna is in good hands, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
“Hey,” I greet him, my voice tinged with excitement.
Brandon turns to me. “Hey, Anya,” he replies, his face lighting up.
“What’s up?” I mean, it’s obvious he’s just standing and spectating. He’s not having fun like everyone else. He kind of looks like an outsider, and that bothers me.
He shrugs. “Watching. I can’t remember the last time I was in a crowd like this.”
My smile fades as I tilt my face up to his, my eyes narrowing with concern. "What do you mean by that?"
He rubs his forehead and dismisses my question with a wave of his hand. "Never mind, you wouldn't understand."
But I want to understand; something he said makes me think there's more to the story than he's letting on. The Brandon I met two years ago was confident and outgoing, not someone who would feel like an outsider. Plus, everyone in this town knows him and his family - he's practically a local celebrity. His dark, depressed eyes meet mine as he speaks softly. "A lot has happened to me, Anya. Things that are hard to even imagine."
A lot indeed must’ve happened for him to change so much. He barely smiles like when I first met him. Whenever I look at him, I can feel the sadness rolling off him. How can I be mad at him when he’s already suffering so much?
“Are you okay to talk about them?” I ask, keeping my voice low and my tone cautious. I want to make him feel comfortable enough to share his problems, but I also want him to know he doesn’t have to if he is not ready yet.
“No,” he answers with a shaking of his head. “I’m not.”
I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeeze it, but my body shivers from how strong he is. Brandon is built like a rock; how didn’t I catch that he was part of the special forces the first time?
“I’m sorry, Anya.”
My eyes widen. That was unexpected. “Sorry for what?”
“I should have never left you the way I did that morning. There is no excuse for it.”
I want to hold onto my anger a little longer, but his sincerity softens me. Plus, I know I'll soon have to ask for forgiveness too. “It's fine, I forgive you. I was really hurt, but they say time heals all wounds."
A small smile appears on his lips. "Thank you."
“You’re welcome.” I hold out my hand to shake him. “Friends?”
His gaze dips to my hand, then back up to my face. He takes my hand, squeezing it and shaking me. “Sure, friends.”
“Now, let’s join everyone else and have fun.” I try to pull him along, but he’s too heavy. I’m not even able to move him an inch.
He laughs at my futile attempt to pull him. I laugh too.
We join the group of people huddled around the bonfire, basking in the warmth of the crackling flames and watching as shadows dance across the faces of the crowd. The air is heavy with the aroma of burning wood and filled with joyous laughter as children chase each other in playful games.
We watch as the town's residents participate in traditional bonfire night games, cheering and applauding as they compete in sack races, apple bobbing, and three-legged races. The atmosphere is electric and charged with excitement.
The free drinks are the highlight of the night. I haven’t had alcohol in so long. I finish a full can of beer in one gulp.
“Easy with the drink,” Brandon says as he takes the empty glass from me. “You’ll pass out at this rate.”
“I have you to take care of me tonight.” I must be drunk already. My mind drifts back to our first meeting. I’d been so drunk and heartbroken that I didn’t care about anything. And then I met him, the father of my precious daughter.
Even if I’d never gotten to meet Brandon again, I would never have regretted that night, or the night we made love. Because I would never have had Kira otherwise.
A cheerful scream breaks out in the crowd. Brandon and I turn our heads in the direction of the sound. Our arms brush against each other, and my body tenses as a spark of electricity zaps between us.
I swallow hard. The air suddenly feels hot. I wonder if he feels the same way, because he doesn’t show it.
"Did you see that?" Brandon points to a group of children engaged in a fierce apple bobbing competition, their faces dripping with water and laughter.
I laugh, nodding in agreement. “They look like they're having a blast.”
“Yeah, reminds me of when I was a kid,” Brandon says, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.
I turn to him, curious. “What was bonfire night like for you growing up?”
Brandon's gaze drifts to the bonfire, his expression thoughtful. “It was always one of my favorite nights of the year. My family would gather around the fire, roasting marshmallows and telling stories. It was magical.”
I smile, feeling warmth spread through me at the image of Brandon as a young boy, “That sounds wonderful,” I say softly.
"We never really talked about you," he says, crossing his arms and giving me his full attention. "You never mentioned anything about your family or childhood."
"Hmm, I guess not," I reply.
"You definitely didn't," he confirms.
I find it strange. Normally, I'm an open book when I've had a few drinks, but there are some things that I keep guarded.
"I don't have any siblings. My parents are constantly traveling the world; they don't really have a home."
He grins widely. "I honestly thought this story would end differently."
"How so?"
"I assumed you had absent parents or something like that."
"No, they were always around for me. They only started traveling after I turned eighteen," I explain. "They had to put off their own dreams and goals while they raised me."
"Your parents sound pretty cool."
"They are amazing," I agree. "They were incredibly supportive when I had my daughter Kira. They never pressured me for information about her father and just showed up to support me as a new mom. I owe them everything."
Brandon opens his mouth to say something. A man beside me suddenly moves, hitting me with his elbow. I lose my balance, raising my hand to grab whatever I can.
But Brandon catches me, curling his hand around my waist and pressing my body against his before I hit the ground.
Suddenly I feel my entire body tense up. His piercing gaze burns into mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. If we were alone, I have no doubt he would try to kiss me. And I know I wouldn't resist - I would kiss him back eagerly, not stopping until our lips were sore and swollen.
My heart beats wildly against my chest as he steadies me on my feet. My hair stands on end, and all I can think about is how much I still want Brandon, despite everything that has happened between us.
In this moment, I realize that I may never truly get over him.
He gently tilts my face towards his with a calloused finger under my chin. "Are you ok?"
I nod as I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. The rush of memories from that unforgettable concert and the magical night we shared flooded back to me in a wave of emotions.
The music still played in my mind, each note resonating with the warmth and joy I felt in his presence. It was like reliving a dream, a perfect moment frozen in time.
"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Anya," he murmurs, as if he felts the same.
A surge of longing and desire takes over me as I stare into his mesmerizing eyes. "If you missed me so much," I whisper breathlessly, "then kiss me."