37. Bond
Bond
Silas
Standing in the shadow of the stable door, I watch Helena kneeling in the garden with Kiran.
The late afternoon sun catches in her hair, and a soft breeze carries the sound of their laughter across the yard.
My chest tightens at the sight of them together, so natural, so easy.
She moves at his pace, never rushing, never scolding.
She understands the way his mind works, the way he needs patience, not pressure.
She had come to me, eyes full of determination, asking to clear out the small plot of land that had gone wild since Caroline passed.
Said she wanted to teach Kiran botany, give him an outlet, let him see something grow under his care.
I almost told her no. That patch of dirt had been Caroline’s.
Her quiet retreat, her pride, the place where she stood in the amber light of sunset, hands deep in the earth, dress glowing sheer in the fading sun.
I could still picture her there, humming softly, fingers brushing over the petals of her roses.
Letting anyone else touch it felt wrong.
But I caved to her request. And now, Helena doesn’t just dig up old memories, she brings something back to life.
Now, where there was once tangled weeds, there’s order; green sprouting from the soil, something thriving again.
Kiran has dirt under his nails and pride in his eyes, watching something he planted push its way into the world.
And for the first time, I realize it’s not just the garden that’s growing roots here.
“She’s good with him.”
Eli’s voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn to see him wiping his hands on a rag as he steps up beside me, his gaze following mine to the garden.
“She is,” I say, watching Helena kneel beside Kiran, her hands gentle as she guides his.
“She’s good with you too, you know.”
I swallow, my throat tightening. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Guess she is.”
Eli leans against the post. “She’s not just here for Kiran, Silas. I believe she was sent here for you too.” He looks up at me, gaze piercing right through whatever defenses I have left. “Helena said she gave you Caroline’s journal.”
“She did.”
“Have you read it?”
I nod, shifting my weight. “I have.”
Eli exhales, like he’s been holding something in.
“She only wanted your happiness, Silas. Loved you with her entire being. She wouldn’t want you walking through life alone, grieving until you went to your own grave.
She’d want you to live. To love. And she’d want someone here for her son, someone who could be good for him, help guide him the way she would have. ”
My fingers flex at my sides as I take it in. I look back at Helena, her head thrown back in laughter at something Kiran said, the sound carrying across the yard like a breath of fresh air.
“She reminds me of her, Eli,” I admit, my voice quieter now. “She has this fire in her, but it’s steady, like Caroline’s was. I swear when I look in her eyes, it’s not just her I see. I don’t know if that makes sense, but sometimes, I look at her and I feel…out of my senses.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the slight curve of Eli’s smile. “Then grab onto it. Tell her. Tell Kiran how you’re feeling. ”
My chest tightens. “You think he’ll be okay with her staying?”
Eli claps a firm hand on my shoulder, grounding me. “I think he’s hoping for the same thing you are, Silas.”
I run a hand down my face, exhaling hard. “I never thought I’d let someone else in like this.”
Eli chuckles, shaking his head. “If I know you, Silas, you’ve barely let her in at all. But I think it’s time you did.”
Kiran walks into my office after his shower, his dark hair still dripping, the damp strands curling at the ends. At least he combed it.
“Ready for bed, son?”
He nods, yawning as he turns toward the stairs. I follow, feeling heavy with the gravity of the conversation I know I need to have.
In his room, he clicks on the small lamp beside his bed, tosses back the covers, and climbs in. As I grab the quilt from the foot of his bed, he adjusts his pillow just the way he likes it. I drape the cover over him; one Caroline made him, worn but still sturdy.
Leaning down, I press a kiss to his forehead, but he scrunches up his nose and playfully pushes me away. I chuckle, settling into the chair beside his bed, resting my elbows on my knees.
“Kiran,” I start cautiously. “Can I talk to you about something? Something grown-up?”
His brows knit together, and he nods. “Of course, Pa.”
I straighten, rubbing a hand across my chest, feeling the pressure of words I never thought I’d have to say. Never thought I’d get the chance to say.
“What would you think about Helena staying with us?”
He grins, eyes bright. “She does stay with us.”
I exhale a slow breath, shaking my head with a small smile. “No, son. I mean, what if she lived with us? What if she was more than just a friend to me? ”
His expression shifts, realization dawning. “Like your girlfriend ?”
My throat feels tight. I rub my palms down my thighs, suddenly aware of the sweat beading at my temple. “Yeah…I guess so. I haven’t asked her yet?—”
Before I can finish, he bolts upright, jumping from the bed, flinging his arms around me in a fierce hug. I barely have time to catch him, but when I do, I hold him tight, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against my chest.
“I would like that a lot, Pa.” His voice is muffled against my shirt.
I pull back just enough to see his face. “You like her?”
He steps back, standing tall in front of me, his expression full of certainty. “I like her a lot. She’s smart and makes good food. And you’re happier with her around.”
“You’re right,” I admit.
He tilts his head, eyes twinkling. “Will you marry her?”
I chuckle. “I don’t know about that yet, but I want her to be someone special to us. I just needed to know if you were okay with that. Your opinion matters, Kiran. More than anything.”
His face splits into a wide grin. “My opinion is we keep her.”
Something in my chest loosened, and I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. I nod. “Good. Thank you, son.”
He hugs me once more before climbing back into bed. I pull the quilt up over his shoulders, tucking him in the way I used to when he was smaller.
“I’m glad she’s here, Pa,” he murmurs sleepily. “I’m glad you like her.”
I stand, flipping off the lamp, my heart feeling lighter than it has in years. “Me too, son. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Love you, Pa. Lots.”