18. Kiara
— ? —
Kiara
I wake to the sound of Jensen’s phone buzzing on the nightstand.
He groans and reaches for it, his other arm still wrapped around my waist. I feel him tense as he reads the screen, and then he sits up, pulling away from me.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice thick with sleep.
“Garrett.” He swipes to answer. “Yeah.”
I watch his face as he listens. His expression shifts from guarded to surprised to something I can’t quite name. His hand finds mine under the covers and squeezes.
“When did this happen?” He pauses. “Unanimous?” Another pause. “And the press release goes out when?” He nods even though Garrett can’t see him. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll call you later.”
He hangs up and stares at the phone in his hand.
“Jensen. What happened?”
He turns to look at me, and there’s a disbelief in his eyes that makes my stomach clench.
“The board voted last night in an emergency session.” He swallows. “They removed my mother from all positions. Effective immediately.”
I sit up, pulling the sheet around my chest. “They removed her?”
“The scandal was too much. The press coverage, the social media fallout, the investors threatening to pull out.” He shakes his head slowly. “She’s done. Completely done.”
“And the company?”
“That’s the other thing.” He looks at me, and now I can see the emotion breaking through. “They want me to take over. As chairman. Full control.”
I stare at him. “Jensen.”
“I know.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I know. It’s a lot.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I didn’t tell them anything yet. I need to think.” He sets the phone down and turns to face me fully. “I need to talk to you first.”
“Me?”
“This affects you. It affects Kieran. If I take this position, there will be expectations. Travel. Meetings. Obligations.” He takes my hands in his. “I won’t do anything that takes me away from you. From him. Not after everything we went through to find each other again.”
I bring his hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles. “We’ll figure it out.”
He pulls me into his arms and holds me tight. I feel his heart beating against my cheek, feel the tension slowly draining from his body.
“I love you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“I love you too.”
We stay like that until the world outside the window grows brighter and we can’t ignore it anymore.
Nadia’s apartment is across town, and Kieran is waiting for us.
Jensen drives. I sit in the passenger seat with my hand on his thigh, watching the city slide past the windows.
He’s quiet, but it’s a different kind of quiet than before.
Not the tense, wound-tight silence of a man preparing for battle.
This is the silence of someone processing. Adjusting to a new reality.
“You’re thinking loud enough for me to hear it,” I say.
He glances at me with a small smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me.”
He’s quiet for another moment. Then he says, “I don’t want to go back.”
“Go back where?”
“To the city. To the life I had before.” He takes a breath. “Everything I care about is here. You. Kieran. The life you’ve built.”
“Jensen, your company is there. Your work.”
“I can work from anywhere. That’s the advantage of being chairman.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “I don’t want to uproot Kieran. He has his school here. His library. His routine. I won’t be the reason that gets disrupted.”
“You’d move here? Permanently?”
“I’d move anywhere you are.” He brings my hand to his lips. “We can set up an office here. I’ll fly back when I need to for meetings. But this is where I want to be. This is where my family is.”
My eyes are stinging. I blink the tears back. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Nadia opens the door before we even knock.
“He’s been asking about you since he woke up,” she says to Jensen. “I had to physically restrain him from calling you.”
Kieran protests from behind her. “I was just going to check if you were awake.”
Jensen crouches down to his level. “Well, I’m awake now. And I’m here.”
Kieran throws his arms around Jensen’s neck. Jensen catches him, lifting him easily, holding him close. I watch them together, my son and his father, and my heart feels too big for my chest.
“Can we go to the park?” Kieran asks. “The one with the big slide?”
“Absolutely,” Jensen says. “Get your shoes.”
Kieran wiggles down and runs to find his sneakers. Nadia catches my eye and raises an eyebrow.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
“Better than okay.”
She pulls me into a quick hug. “Good. You deserve it.”
The park is busy but not crowded. Families scatter across the grass. Children climb the play structures. Dogs chase frisbees.
Kieran runs ahead to the swings, and Jensen and I follow at a slower pace, our hands linked between us.
“Push me!” Kieran demands when we reach him.
Jensen takes his place behind the swing and starts to push. Gentle at first, then higher as Kieran demands more.
“Higher! Higher!”
I stand to the side and watch them. Jensen’s face is open, relaxed, happy in a way I’ve never seen him. Kieran is laughing, his head thrown back, his legs pumping.
This is what we could have had. This is what was stolen from us.
But we have it now. That’s what matters.
Eventually Kieran tires of the swings and runs to the slide. Jensen comes to stand beside me, slightly out of breath.
“He has a lot of energy,” he says.
“You have no idea. This is him calm.”
He laughs and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. We watch Kieran climb the ladder, slide down, run around, and climb again. Over and over. Tireless.
“Kiara,” Jensen says quietly.
“Hmm?”
“I want to tell him. Today. If you think he’s ready.”
I look up at him. “About you being his father?”
“Yes.” He meets my eyes. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to be the tall man or the friend from work. I want to be his dad. I want him to know.”
I think about it. I think about Kieran, about how he’s already attached to Jensen, about the way he lights up when Jensen walks into a room.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s tell him.”
Jensen’s whole body relaxes. “Really?”
“Really.”
He kisses me, right there in the park, in front of everyone. I don’t care. Let them look.
When Kieran finally tires himself out, we find a bench near the pond. He climbs onto Jensen’s lap, still breathing hard, his cheeks flushed from running.
“Kieran,” Jensen says. “I need to tell you something important.”
Kieran looks up at him with those gray eyes. His father’s eyes. “What?”
Jensen glances at me. I nod. “You know how you’ve been calling me the tall man?”
“Yes.”
“Well.” Jensen takes a breath. “I’m more than that. I’m not just your mama’s friend.”
Kieran waits, his small face patient and curious.
“I’m your dad, Kieran. I’m your father.”
I hold my breath. Kieran studies Jensen’s face for a long moment. Then a slow smile spreads across his features.
“I knew it,” he says.
Jensen blinks. “You knew?”
“You look like me.” Kieran shrugs, as if this is obvious. “We have the same eyes. I noticed the first time I saw you.”
“You noticed,” Jensen repeats.
“I notice everything. I’m very observant.” Kieran tilts his head. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I wasn’t sure you were ready to hear it. I wanted to make sure you liked me first, before I told you.”
“I liked you from the beginning.” Kieran frowns slightly. “You brought me Victor. And you did research about velociraptors. That’s how I knew you were a good person.”
Jensen’s eyes are wet. He pulls Kieran into a hug, holding him tight.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here before,” he says, his voice rough. “I’m sorry I missed so much.”
“It’s okay.” Kieran pats his back. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”
I press my hand to my mouth, trying to hold back the sob that wants to escape. I don’t succeed. Kieran pulls back and looks at Jensen seriously.
“Can I call you Dad now?”
“Yes.” Jensen’s voice cracks. “Please. I’d like that very much.”
“Okay.” Kieran nods, satisfied. “Dad.”
The word hits Jensen like a physical force. I see him absorb it, see him break and remake himself around it. “Say it again,” he whispers.
“Dad.” Kieran grins. “Dad. Dad. Dad.”
Jensen laughs, the sound watery and bright. He pulls Kieran close again, and this time I join them, wrapping my arms around both of them, holding my family together.
We stay like that for a long time. The three of us, tangled together on a park bench, the city humming around us, the future spreading out ahead.
When we finally break apart, Kieran hops off Jensen’s lap and points toward the pond.
“Can we feed the ducks?”
“We don’t have any bread,” I say.
“We could get some.”
Jensen stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s go get some bread.”
We walk to the small shop at the edge of the park and buy a loaf. We return to the pond and tear off pieces, tossing them to the eager ducks that swarm toward us.
Kieran runs along the edge of the water, throwing bread and laughing when the ducks fight over the pieces. Jensen stands beside me, his arm around my shoulders.
“This is it,” he says quietly.
“This is what?”
“This is the life I want.” He looks down at me. “Not the company. Not the money. Not the name. This. You. Him. A park and some ducks and bread crumbs.”
I lean into him. “It’s a good life.”
“It’s the best life.”
His phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it.
“Aren’t you going to check that?”
“No. Whatever it is can wait.” He pulls me closer. “This can’t.”
We watch Kieran chase the ducks until the bread is gone and the afternoon light starts to fade. Then we walk back to the car together, Kieran between us, holding both our hands.
“Dad,” he says as we reach the car.
“Yes?”
“Are you going to live with us now?”
“If your mama says it’s okay.”
“Is it okay, Mama?”
I pretend to think about it. “I suppose we could make room for him.”
Kieran beams. “Good. You can sleep in Mama’s room. There’s more space there.”
Jensen coughs to cover a laugh. “That sounds like a good plan.”
We drive home. Kieran falls asleep in the backseat, his head lolling against his car seat, exhausted from the day.
Jensen reaches over and takes my hand. “Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For giving me a second chance. For letting me know him. For loving me even after everything.”
I bring his hand to my lips. “You never lost me,” I say.
He glances at me, his eyes soft. “You were always with me. Every day. Even when I couldn’t reach you.”
We pull up to the apartment. Jensen carries Kieran inside, still sleeping, and lays him gently on his bed. I cover him with his blanket and tuck Victor under his arm.
We stand in the doorway together, watching our son sleep.
“I love you,” Jensen says quietly.
“I love you too.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom.
The apartment is small. The furniture is mismatched. There are toys everywhere and crayon drawings on the refrigerator and a four-year-old who will probably wake up at an unreasonable interval demanding breakfast.
I wouldn’t trade any of it.
Not for anything in the world.
THE END