Chapter 4
Gavrel
My wings spread instinctively, my tail lashing once before I forced it still. Every protective instinct I had shifted into high gear, leaving me with a desperate need to fix whatever had broken her voice.
But I didn’t know how. Didn’t know if she’d even let me do something like that.
She sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands, her shoulders tight with tension. She hadn’t looked up when I’d entered, hadn’t acknowledged my presence beyond those three devastating words.
I should leave. Give her privacy. This wasn’t my business, wasn’t my problem to fix.
And why had I called her chérie?
My feet carried me forward instead of turning me around and taking me from the kitchen.
“Let me make you something,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Tea? Coffee?”
Her eyes were red-rimmed but dry, like she was fighting tears through sheer willpower. “I don’t need anything, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Please.”
She blinked, surprise flickering across her face.
“Coffee would be good,” she said finally. “Thank you.”
I moved to the coffee maker, grateful for something to do with my hands. The familiar motions of measuring grounds and adding water gave me time to think, to wrestle my instincts back under control.
Behind me, she took a shaky breath.
“I made sandwiches for us,” she said. “After you helped with Corey’s lunch money, the least I could do was feed you.”
My chest tightened. She’d been falling apart and still thought to make me lunch.
“That was very kind of you.” I brought the sandwiches to the table along with napkins, and returned for the coffee. When I set a mug in front of her, our fingers almost touched. She pulled back first.
I took the seat across from her and adjusted my wings, looping them over the back of the chair. She wrapped both hands around the mug.
“You don’t have to talk about anything,” I said. “But I’m happy to listen. If you want.”
She stared into her coffee for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice came out quiet.
“Corey’s teacher spoke to me about an issue Corey’s dealing with.” She took a sip, swallowed. “They had a family tree project yesterday. One of the other kids asked about Corey’s dad.”
My claws pricked my palms. I forced them to retract.
“Corey got defensive. Said he didn’t need a dad, that dads were stupid.” Her laugh held no humor. “Then he started crying.”
“He’s young,” I said carefully. “Children his age often have feelings they don’t know how to manage.”
“That’s what his teacher said. That he’s processing big feelings and needs tools to handle them.” She set down her mug. “Something I should be teaching him but apparently aren’t.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know what you’re trying to say. That I’m doing my best, that single parenting is hard, that I shouldn’t blame myself.” She met my eyes. “But the truth is, there’s a hole in his life I can’t fill. No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be a dad.”
The pain in her voice made my tail twitch. I locked it against my leg.
“What happened with his father?”
I expected her to shut down, to tell me it wasn’t my business. Instead, she picked up her sandwich and took a bite, chewing slowly, like she was buying time.
“I met him nine years ago,” she said. “A few states away. I was hiking, he was hiking. We continued up the trail at the same time and started talking. By the time we’d reached the peak, we’d set up a date.
” She set down her coffee mug and lifted her sandwich, staring down at it.
“We went out together over a few months. He was charming. Attentive. He made me feel special with weekend adventures and late-night conversations about a future together.”
The past tense told me everything I needed to know about how that story ended.
“I fell fast and thought we were building something real. Then I found out about his wife. Through Facebook of all places. One of his friends posted about their anniversary.”
My claws extended before I could stop them. I curled my fingers into fists, hiding them under the table.
“When I confronted him, he didn’t even try to deny it. Just blocked me on social media.” She took another bite of her sandwich and swallowed. “Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.”
“You told him.”
“I called from a friend’s phone since he’d blocked my number.
I was desperate, terrified, and hoped maybe there was some way forward.
I mean, I didn’t expect him to divorce her, and he was a cheater.
Even if he had broken up with her, I didn’t want him any longer.
” She stared at her plate. “He sent money for an abortion. Then told me not to contact him again.”
Anger surged through me. My tail lashed once, hard, before I caught it against the table leg. My wings rustled against the back of the chair. I was overwhelmed by a visceral urge to find this man and introduce him to several creative uses for my claws.
“I moved,” Sammy said, her voice flat. “Started over. Raised Corey alone, though I did make sure he paid support. He…hasn’t been good about that, unfortunately.”
“You’ve done remarkably well.”
“Have I?” She looked up. “Because right now it feels like I’m failing him. He needs things I can’t give him. A father. Someone who can teach him how to be a person who won’t abandon a woman in need.”
I reached for my own sandwich, giving myself time to think. To choose my words carefully. “May I offer some observations?”
She gestured for me to continue.
“You’re trying to solve multiple problems simultaneously. That would overwhelm anyone.” I took a bite, chewing while I organized my thoughts. Swallowed. “What if we broke them down into smaller pieces?”
“Like what?”
“First, Corey is processing difficult emotions about not having a father. I assume his teacher suggested counseling, yes?”
“She suggested he see the school counselor to help him develop coping strategies. I have her number and need to call.”
“Let the professional help him with the emotional tools.” I watched her face, gauging her reaction. “As for the second issue, I believe you’ve made Corey’s life complete already. Everyone doesn’t need a father, not when they have a mother as wonderful as you.”
Pink stained her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything.
“If you believe he needs a male in his life, that doesn’t mean you need to conjure a father from thin air.”
“I know, but—”
“I could spend more time with him if you’d allow it.”
“Feydin has said the same thing, and they’ve been doing things together. I think it’s helping. But you just got here. Why would you offer to do something like that?”
“Because he’s intelligent and curious and asks excellent questions. Because I enjoyed our conversation this morning. Because…” I hesitated. “Because I understand what it’s like to navigate difficult family dynamics.”
“You and Feydin.”
I nodded. “We were estranged for two years. Pride and harsh words, mostly. I…mocked him for coming here years ago, for being willing to settle for a position as a house gargoyle when I felt he had so much more potential. I was so wrong. He found perfection here, inside the manor and with Dazy. Learning to rebuild that relationship and be brothers again after a long period of silence has required effort. Humility. Willingness to be vulnerable.” I met her eyes.
“This is a cliché, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.
Family isn’t always the one you’re born with. Sometimes it’s the one you choose.”
“Corey said something similar,” she said. “About chosen family being the best kind.”
“He’s a wise child. See? You’ve taught him well.”
She picked up her sandwich, and she ate quickly, efficiently, like someone used to grabbing food between tasks. No lingering over flavors or taking time to enjoy the meal. It was fuel to keep going.
“Being pregnant alone was hard,” she said.
“I had to work double shifts at the restaurant to save because I knew I’d need to take time off after he was born.
Daycares won’t take kids until they’re six weeks old.
Some people will, homes with a bunch of little ones running around, but he was so tiny.
I didn’t want to leave him when he was new and fragile.
” She set down the rest of her sandwich.
“I used to stand in grocery store aisles trying to choose between diapers and food, trying to figure out what I could substitute for wipes, what I could eat with the most nutrition for the least cost. I fed him myself but even then, there was never quite enough money for… Well, for anything. Forget treats. It was all I could do to afford what we needed.”
I pressed my wings tight against the chair. Every word was a small revelation, another piece of the picture forming in my mind. A woman alone, terrified, doing everything herself because she had no other choice.
“When Corey got older, he needed things I couldn’t stretch my budget to afford.
School supplies. Gifts for friends’ birthday parties.
A baseball glove when he wanted to play on a team.
” Her voice cracked. “I worked my way up to sous chef at a restaurant, and that paid better, thankfully. But it was never quite enough. There was always something, another expense or crisis I had to juggle alone.”
“You’re not alone now.”
“Aren’t I?” She looked up at me. “I appreciate everything Dazy’s done for us. This job and letting me stay in the manor. It’s more than I ever expected. But it’s still just me and Corey. It’s still my responsibility to make sure he has everything he needs.”
“What if it didn’t have to be?”
“What do you mean?”
I chose my words carefully. “I mean…let me help. With Corey, with the estate management, with whatever you need. You don’t have to carry everything yourself.”
She studied my face as if she was searching for the catch. “Why?”
“Because I want to.” The truth of it surprised me. “You deserve support. Corey deserves to have someone in his corner besides his remarkable mother.”