ANNA
“I wish you would stop being so quiet.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, biting the inside seam and nipping at the tender skin. I only release it when a metallic taste coats the tip of my tongue.
Maya scratches her temple, gaze drawn to Rosie who’s playing with her toys and is blissfully unaware of the tension filling the living room.
Last night when I got home after speaking to Sylas, I told Maya everything.
Aside from asking when he was going to see her, she had nothing else to say.
I’m afraid she’s bottling it up and will eventually go off on me for being so stupid and naive.
I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t leave me feeling uneasy.
The last time we talked about Sylas, we got into an argument, and it was so bad we stopped talking for years.
Our relationship is fragile, and while we have yet to really talk, she’s making an effort to be in my life. Well, now I don’t know.
Since the bakery is closed today, Sylas will be coming over. I know it’s all too quick—I should’ve given it some time to really think it through—but it’s not his fault we were both lied to. However, I don’t know if Maya sees it that way.
My phone buzzes on the small coffee table, and messages from Jenny and Em appear. I don’t reply, too anxious, my palms drenched.
A few knocks on the door freeze me whole. Maya still hasn’t spoken, and I think she’s going to scold me for being an idiot when she stands and looks at me. But the words that leave her mouth somewhat alleviate the nervous energy crippling me.
“I know I…said a lot of things about Sylas.” She exhales a shaky breath. “I’m not trying to make this about me, but will I still be able to see Rosie? I’m sure he probably won’t care to see me after everything I said, and I can’t say I blame him. But I really want to be in her life and—”
My lips twitch. “Is that why you’ve been quiet?”
Her face flushes, and she wrings her fingers. “I’m sure you vented about me to him, and I can’t imagine I left a wonderful impression, so—”
“Maya.” My hands itch to hug her, but we don’t do that, so I stand in my spot. “I may have vented a time or two, but there were things I kept to myself.”
“Why?” she asks, perplexed. “You can be honest. I won’t blame you if you did. If you called me names or said anything bad about me, I won’t be upset. I promise.”
“Talking about you made me want to cry, so I didn’t…” I shrug. “You know how much I hate crying. Which is funny because it’s all I did while pregnant.”
“Yeah.” She breathes a laugh, her expression poignant. “I’m sorry.”
“It was all the hormones. Being pregnant does—”
“No, not that. I’m sorry I wasn’t—” Her voice thickens, but she clears her throat. “There.”
“You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” I smile, meaning it. Another knock and she tenses. “Nothing is going to change. Rosie loves you, and that’s not something anyone is going to take from her. You’re also the cheapest I’ve ever paid for a sitter. There’s no getting rid of you.”
Maya rolls her eyes with faux annoyance. “You don’t pay me.”
“Because you won’t let me,” I counter. “So, you weren’t quiet because you think I’m an idiot for allowing this to happen? For letting him into her life?”
“No, I don’t think you’re an idiot. You’re doing what’s best for your daughter. I trust you know what you’re doing. If you say he looked physically distraught last night, and you believe he didn’t know, then I do too.”
For the sake of not getting emotional, I keep my response brief. “Thank you.”
“I really hope this works out, but if it’s too good to be true, I’ll castrate him.” She stands over Rosie, kisses the top of her head, and heads to the front door, slipping her shoes on. Peering over her shoulder, she pins me with a threatening look. “I mean it. Call me if you need anything.”
She opens the door and my spine goes erect, my nerves ratcheting up tenfold until I hear Sylas’s deep “Hey?” and Maya’s reply of “Don’t fuck this up.”
Pivoting, I spot Sylas still standing at the front door. His dark brown brows are pinched and his lips are pursed. He doesn’t look irked but rather puzzled. “Was that…” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Maya?”
“Yeah.”
I saunter closer to him. Since we parted ways, I told myself I’d be okay with this, that he has a right to see his daughter because he did nothing wrong. He was lied to like I was. And I told myself I’d manage being in front of Sylas. I was okay yesterday and I will be today.
But things are different right now. Standing just a few inches away from each other, a parade of memories float in my head.
It doesn’t help that he’s tall and broad but doesn’t look one bit like he did the last time I saw him.
And I don’t mean when he was injured, I mean before.
He was already built, but now he’s more muscle, more—
No, stop it! Don’t stare! Stop staring! Despite what his parents did, he broke up with me. He made that decision. It was easier for him to end things than to let me in. You weren’t enough for him, Anna. You’re doing this for Rosie. She’s the only reason he’s here.
The mental pep talk helps ground me, but not enough because when his eyes sweep over me, I hate how I feel self-conscious.
I’ve managed to lose all the weight I gained while pregnant.
I’m avidly working out, doing my best to eat healthy, but my body has changed a lot, and where I didn’t have stretch marks before, I do now.
I don’t care what he thinks, it’s irrelevant. He’s Rosie’s father, my ex-boyfriend. I’m fine. We’re going to be civil. People do it all the time. I am happy with my body. I am happy without him.
I. Am. Happy.
Those words finally help chain me to the fucking ground and keep me there. Because when he walks past me and I get a faint waft of his cologne, I don’t want to breathe him in or crave his touch. I shut the door behind me and tell him to remove his shoes.
“Shoes carry dirt and we have carpet. Rosie is like a human vacuum. She’ll eat anything. So I like shoes off.”
He smiles and those dimples indent his cheeks. I notice he’s clean-shaven and looks better than he did yesterday. I still clock his sunken eyes, but they’re not as dull as yesterday; they’re brighter and he seems relieved. He appears more in control of his body, more him.
“You don’t need to explain yourself. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. But it’s good to know. I’ll keep an eye out and make sure she doesn’t put anything in her mouth that she shouldn’t.”
I gesture for him to follow me, and he trails closely behind, but then I hear the soft patter of his feet come to a standstill.
When I look over my shoulder, I find his eyes zeroed in on Rosie, and that look…
It knocks me off my feet and steals all the air from my lungs.
I know that look. It’s the very same one I wore when she was first laid on my chest after she was born.
I was already in love with her, but it evolved into something more profound, fierce. Protective. He doesn’t have to say it, but it radiates off him. I know he’s fallen for her. Might’ve already last night. Despite the anguish, he was ready to meet her, ready to talk about her, ready for her.
Regrets, I have many, but this will never be one of them.
“God, wow, she’s…” He hums, staring at her, enamored, then shifts his eyes to mine. “Beautiful.”
My throat thickens, making it hard to swallow or speak. So I smile until I’m able to expel the words. “She looks just like you.”
“She looks like you too.” He stays planted in his spot even when I round the couch.
“Don’t say that to make me feel good. Come. You can get closer.”
“I’m not.” Sylas takes slow steps. “She does. She has your lips, your smile, the shape of your eyes, your nose, she has a lot of it.”
He’s only seen the picture Em posted on Instagram. It’s kind of grainy and has a filter on it. I’m sure he’s just seeing things and being nice.
“She’s not going to bite—actually, she might. So be careful. She may be small, but she’s got sharp teeth. And stop being weird. You’re making it weird.”
“I’m sorry.” He picks up the pace and finally stands next to me. “I’m just in shock. She’s so tiny.”
It’s painfully funny how unaware Rosie is of her surroundings. She’s so busy playing she hasn’t noticed Sylas is standing just a few feet away from her.
“The doctor said she’s high on the growth chart. So she might be as tall as you one day.” His parents, Thea, and other family members are tall, so it makes sense that she’d follow suit. Just another thing she inherited from him.
“Can I go to the next one?”
“Next one?” I look up and find him already looking down at me.
“Doctor’s appointment. All the appointments.” Pale green eyes sweep over me again. I wish he’d stop doing that. “If that’s okay with you.”
I thought I’d be able to keep it together, but I’m struggling to keep my emotions at bay. After everything I went through, I thought the worst of him. I imagined him hating being a father, imagined him being embarrassed that he had a baby with me, I imagined so many things, but not this.
His eyes and posture scream it: he’s happy to be here. And even though there’s an apprehensive energy about him, he’s comfortable.
Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself because he doesn’t know yet just how time-consuming kids are. I don’t know what he does in his spare time. I don’t want to begin to imagine it, but I assume he’s busy, like he had been before we started dating.
I don’t care who he’s with, but unless she’s someone serious, I don’t want him bringing random women around Rosie. I make a mental note of bringing it up later.
“That’s okay with me. She just had one, but the next one will be in December, close to her birthday.”
Rosie must finally sense us watching her because she swivels, her pigtails slowly swishing. She’s smiling but it slips as her pale green eyes shift up and her head tips back to look at Sylas.
Her gaze jumps from his to mine and back to him. She looks mildly concerned by his presence even when he smiles at her and offers the faintest wave.
“Mama?” She teeters toward me, her steps as hesitant as the expression on her face.
“It’s okay.” I crouch down, stretching my arms, and she quickly makes a run for it.
“Don’t worry,” I tell Sylas. I can tell he’s worried he did something wrong.
It’s amusing and cute and—no, it’s not cute.
“She’s okay. She makes you think she’s scared, but in a few minutes, maybe even seconds, she’ll warm up to you and make you play with her.
Which is not okay because stranger danger doesn’t seem to be a concept to her, but we’re working on it. ”
That makes him laugh and he crouches too. He still towers over us, but it helps because she isn’t as tense or intimidated.
“Hi, Rosie.” His voice is soft, a tone so tender and sweet it makes my heart swell. Dammit, Anna, stop it. She feels it because she peers up through her lashes and flashes him the tiniest smile. “Were you playing with your kitchen?” He points at the playset Jenny got her for Christmas.
That hooks her attention when her gaze follows his finger. Her eyes sparkle and she bobs her head, her pigtails bouncing. “I cook in kitchen.”
Her words aren’t super clear, but Sylas doesn’t seem to have trouble understanding. “Oh yeah? What do you like to cook?”
She cocks her head, pointing a tiny finger to her lips. “Papas, eggs, chocolate.”
He chuckles, glancing at me then back at her. “Wow, that sounds so yummy. Can you cook for me?”
“Si!” She animatedly pushes away from me, grabbing one of his fingers and tugging him to her kitchen. He moves on his knees, nodding as he listens to all the different foods that she can cook. “I don’t like coli,” she whispers to him.
“Broccoli?” He grins, sitting on his butt when she releases his finger.
“Ew.” Her nose scrunches. “It’s yucky.”
“But it’s good for you.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Cakes are yummy.”
“They are. Your mommy makes the best tres leches.” Sylas hums in delight, eyes reminiscent as they shift to mine, but I look down at Rosie before the flashbacks of all the times I baked him that particular cake play in my head. “What’s your favorite kind of cake?”
“Fresas with chocolate.” She places a slice of plastic cake on a plate and sets it on his large palm.
I can only watch two more seconds of their interaction before I turn around and shut my eyes. I try to steady my breathing, urge my eyes to stop welling up, don’t sniffle even though I need to because I feel my nose running.
I am not going to cry. I will not cry, I chant in my head, but he’s interacting with her so seamlessly that I’m struggling to keep my composure.
I expected him to feel unsteady, act strange because this is out of his element, freak out a little, but he seems fine.
Unless it’s not really set in yet, though it doesn’t feel that way.
“She speaks both English and Spanish?” Sylas questions, impressed.
“I speak to her in both, yeah. I think it’s confusing her a little, but the doctor isn’t worried. She says it’s normal for kids living in bilingual households.”
“Trilingual. I’d love to teach her how to speak Portuguese.”
Fuck my life, I’m really going to lose it. “Yeah, go for it. She’s really smart, so she’ll pick up on it quickly.”
His palms are filled with toys. Rosie keeps stacking things because she realized how huge his palms are and how much can fit in them. “Smart just like you. She definitely got that from you.”
I look away because he’s staring at me in a way I don’t like. I’m sure it means nothing, but I don’t want to take my chances and read into it.
Instead of replying, I stay quiet, watching them play and talk. She’s beaming, elated that he’s playing along to whatever she says while he watches her with hearts in his eyes. And all while that happens, I can’t help but feel an ache in my chest.