Chapter 47
KAIRO
Ben’s legs swing off the edge of the couch, his socks mismatched—one green with dancing satellites, the other red with faded dinosaurs. He hums under his breath, coloring in a page that’s half-hoverbike, half-dragon. His little brow is furrowed in concentration.
And I—I’m crumbling inside.
My palms sweat as I clutch the compad in my lap. I’ve rehearsed the words over and over in my head. Countless times. But they taste like splinters in my mouth now that the moment is real.
I close my eyes. Breathe.
He deserves the truth.
All of it.
Even if it breaks the soft, untroubled shape of his world.
“Benny?” My voice comes out softer than I intended. I swallow and try again. “Can we talk a second, baby?”
He looks up, big dark eyes blinking. “Did I do something wrong?”
God, my heart. I shake my head fast.
“No, sweetheart. Not at all.” I pat the spot beside me on the couch. “Come sit with me, yeah?”
He hops down, all awkward knees and endless energy, and crawls into my lap like he’s still four. He leans his head on my shoulder. My arms wrap around him instinctively, and I breathe in the scent of crayons and that blue citrus shampoo he loves.
“How come you look sad?” he asks, peering up at me.
I blink back the sting in my eyes and run a hand through his curls. “I’m not sad, baby. Just… nervous.”
He tilts his head, curious.
“There’s something I want to tell you. About your dad.”
He straightens a little. His fingers curl in the hem of his shirt. “Mr. Kuraken?”
My breath catches.
“Yes,” I whisper. “But not just Mr. Kuraken. His name’s Jav. And he’s not just your teacher or my… friend. He’s your father, Ben. Your real dad.”
Silence.
The room seems to freeze, suspended in the weight of my words. My heartbeat pounds so loud in my ears, I almost miss his soft voice.
“I know.”
I blink. “What?”
He looks up at me and shrugs, all nonchalance. “I kinda figured.”
I gape. “You—what?”
Ben grins like it’s the most obvious thing in the universe. “He looks at me like you do. And when he talks, his voice gets all low and soft like when you tell stories at night. And he smells like fire and metal and candy—just like my dreams.”
My throat closes up. I press my forehead to his and laugh, a wet, shaky sound that bursts from the ache in my chest.
“You smart little fox,” I whisper.
“Mom,” he says seriously, “I’m not mad. I’m glad. I wanted it to be him.”
I hug him tighter than I probably should, and he squeaks.
Later that evening, we take the transport to a holopark that glows like a carnival on stardust—neon-lit walkways, floating platforms, digital flora that shifts with your mood.
Jav is already there, waiting near the hoverboard loop, looking nervous. His hands twitch like he doesn’t know what to do with them, but his smile softens when he sees us.
“Hey, cub,” he calls out.
Ben bolts from my side like a shot, arms flung wide. Jav scoops him up mid-run and spins him once before settling him on his hip.
I walk slower. Still cautious. Still feeling like I’m balancing joy and panic on the edge of a blade.
“Hoverboard lesson, huh?” I ask, folding my arms.
Jav grins, setting Ben down gently. “I promised him.”
Ben grabs his hand and tugs him toward the loop. “Let’s go! I already wore the pads like you said.”
I watch them from the edge of the park. Jav kneels to secure Ben’s wrist guards, walking him through balance techniques, his voice patient and clear. They look like they’ve done this a hundred times.
My heart aches with it.
I should feel whole.
But instead, I feel fragile.
Like I’m borrowing happiness I haven’t earned.
Ben topples a few times, laughing. Jav never lets him fall too hard.
And me?
I stand at the edge of this glowing little world they’re building, hands cold in my coat pockets, wondering if this is what peace is supposed to feel like—this quiet, unspeakable terror that it won’t last.
When Ben finally wobbles half a loop around the track without crashing, he throws his arms up in victory. Jav whoops like a proud fool and high-fives him so hard their hands echo.
I smile.
And I almost believe we’ve made it.
We walk home under a sky freckled with stars. Ben passes out in the seat before we’re even halfway back.
Jav carries him, his arms steady, voice low as he tells me how Ben asked questions about space pirates and hoverbike races the whole ride in.
“You okay?” he asks, catching the quiet in my steps.
I nod, brushing hair out of my eyes. “I’m working on it.”
He doesn’t push.
And I love him for that.
We reach our building just as the wind picks up. Jav lifts Ben gently into his bed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder. I stand in the doorway, watching.
There’s no speech. No dramatic music. Just a quiet peace that feels too good to touch.
But it doesn’t last.
Not for long.
The door buzzer buzzes.
I frown.
Jav’s brow furrows. “Expecting someone?”
I shake my head and move to the screen. When I tap the button, my breath hitches.
Maliek.
In a sharp black coat. Expression cool. Eyes unreadable.
My stomach twists.
I open the door a crack.
He lifts a file folder and says, “Can we talk?”
Jav steps behind me before I can speak. I feel the tension bleed into the air like static.
“This isn’t a good time,” I say.
Maliek looks past me at Jav. Then back at me.
“I figured. That’s why I brought paperwork.”
He holds out the folder.
I take it, hands trembling.
“What is this?”
“Custody petition,” he says. “I’m filing for shared parental rights.”
I feel the floor drop out from under me.
Ben stirs in his room.
I grip the doorframe. “You’re kidding.”
Maliek’s smile is thin and cruel. “You should’ve told me the truth, Kairo. Instead, you let him play house. Now the law gets to sort it out.”
Jav doesn’t say a word.
But the fire in his eyes promises storms.