9.0 #3
Not him knowing her giggle. Not him seeing her hair puff up after a nap. Not him catching that stubborn tilt in her chin that was all me.
Not because Brooks was a bad man. He wasn't cruel, not careless, not the type to walk away if he ever knew the truth. But Alina didn't deserve the weight that came with his name-the cameras, the whispers, the constant pressure of being someone's headline instead of just a little girl.
I breathed through it and finally flipped my phone back over. The booking app blinked up at me. One more client left for the day, but a red line cut across their name-canceled. Relief hit fast, guilt close behind. Normally I hated losing money. Today it felt like grace.
I climbed out of the car, the late sun pressing warm against my shoulders, and went back inside the shop.
The place was mostly empty now, chairs wiped down, blow dryers cooling on their hooks.
I swept hair into neat piles, folded a couple of towels, spritzed cleaner across the counter.
The silence made it easy to think too much, so I moved fast, focused on making everything spotless so tomorrow wouldn't start heavy.
When the clock hit near pickup, I grabbed my bag, flicked off the lights, and locked the door.
By the time I pulled up to daycare, the sky had softened into that lavender gray again. Through the glass doors I spotted her instantly-my girl, sitting cross-legged on a rug with a book upside down in her lap, lips moving like she was reading to the stuffed animals lined up in front of her.
The second she noticed me, she shot up. Bunny in one hand, curls flying.
"Mommy!"
I crouched just in time for her to crash into me, her little arms squeezing so tight I lost my breath. She smelled like crayons and apple juice, warm and familiar.
"Hey, bug," I whispered into her hair. "You have a good day?"
She nodded hard enough for her beads to click. "We painted clouds. Mine was the biggest."
"Of course it was," I said, kissing her cheek. "You're my little sky."
She giggled, bunny thumping against my shoulder as she wiggled free. I held her hand as we walked out, her tiny sneakers slapping the pavement in rhythm. She swung our hands like it was a game, like the whole day had been leading up to this moment where she got to leave with me.
For a few breaths, Brooks disappeared, Kian disappeared, everything complicated faded out. It was just me and her, our shadows stretching long across the sidewalk, heading home together.
By the time I pulled up to daycare, the sky was soft again, streaked with peach and lavender. Through the glass doors, I spotted her immediately: Alina, bunny clutched tight, chattering at Ms. Dorsey with her whole body.
"Mommy!" She barreled into me like her little sneakers had rockets, arms locking around my neck. The day dropped off my shoulders the second I felt her weight.
"Hey, bug," I murmured into her braids. "You give Ms. Dorsey a good day?"
"She said I was helper of the week," Alina announced proudly, chest puffed out.
"Well, look at you." I kissed her cheek, sticky with juice, and signed her out. "Ready to go home?"
"Yes! Bunny missed you too," she said solemnly, holding the ragged rabbit up like it was a co-signer.
At the house, she dumped her backpack in the hallway and made a beeline for the couch. "Can I watch Bluey?"
"Bath first," I called, already toeing off my shoes.
She pouted, dragging Bunny by the ear. "But Bluey helps me wash my hands."
I arched an eyebrow. "Then maybe Bluey will help you scrub behind your ears too."
That earned me a dramatic groan, but she didn't fight me too hard, skipping toward the bathroom with her little feet slapping the floor.
Later, wrapped in pajamas, her curls damp and her belly full of leftover pasta, she curled against me under the unicorn blanket. The cartoon glowed across her face as she fidgeted with my fingers, sticky and small.
"Mommy?" she said, voice soft like she was winding down.
"Yeah, bug?"
"When I grow up, I'm gonna buy us a castle."
"A castle?" I laughed, brushing a damp curl off her forehead. "That sounds big."
"Yeah. With a slide. And a pool. And... and you don't gotta work. I'll do your work."
My chest tightened in that way it always did when she said things too big for her age. I kissed her temple. "That's sweet, baby. But you just worry about being three for now. Mommy's got the work part."
She yawned wide, curling tighter into me. "Okay. But you still can come live in my castle."
"Deal."
Her tiny hand rested on mine, curling in like she was holding me together.
"Love you, Mommy," she mumbled around the edges of sleep.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Love you more."
Her breathing evened out fast, the day finally catching up to her. I sat there a while longer, staring at the cartoon still playing low on the TV, her warmth heavy against my side.
Everything else-Kian, Brooks, the party, the weight of secrets I couldn't let slip-faded out in that moment. It was just me and her. My whole reason. My whole world.