Chapter 16
Laiken
By the time I make it up from the parking garage, my shoulders feel like they’re carrying an extra twenty pounds.
Practice was good; hard in a way that usually clears my head.
But that never quite happened today. Knox nearly killed us both on the way home, and Oliver’s comments have been looping through my brain the entire day.
As soon as the elevator doors slide open, the first thing that hits me is the aroma.
Tomato. Garlic. Butter.
It smells distinctly of a home-cooked meal.
For just a second, I linger in the entryway, content to soak it in.
Even when Sarah lived here, she didn’t cook.
I can’t remember coming home to a place that smelled like this.
And my parents weren’t the kind to spend time in the kitchen either.
Our home was more of a fend-for-yourself kind of place.
Soft strains of music flow from deep within the penthouse. It’s something acoustic with the happy buzz of chatter layered over it.
Already I can hear my little girl talking a mile a minute as Kia responds on cue.
I toe off my shoes and move farther inside, spotting Elody perched at the kitchen island, golden hair a wild halo around her head, markers scattered like confetti across the marble.
Kia stands next to her, elbow on the counter, chin propped in her hand, listening to whatever Elody is saying with an expression of rapt interest.
The scene hits me like a physical blow.
This.
This is exactly what I pictured years ago when Sarah and I talked about having a family. A warm kitchen. Food cooking on the stove. My daughter talking about her day while a woman watches with an affectionate expression.
It’s the only thing I ever wanted that didn’t involve the ice.
And here it is. Except the woman in front of me isn’t the one I married. She’s the one I have no business wanting.
“Daddy!” Elody spots me first and launches herself off the stool. “Look! Look what we made!”
Kia straightens as Elody rockets into the hall, crumbs at the corners of her lips, blue marker on her fingers. She’s never looked happier.
I force my legs to move. “Hey, bug. What’ve you got?”
She shoves the paper at me. It’s a winged horse with a crown and absolutely no respect for anatomy.
“It’s a unicorn Pegasus princess,” she announces proudly. “Kia helped.”
I bite back a smile. “Is that right?”
Kia’s mouth curves. “We debated whether horns and wings could coexist before ultimately deciding they could.”
“Obviously,” I say. “Advanced genetics, if I had to guess.”
Elody giggles like I just said the funniest thing ever, and the tightness in my chest loosens another notch.
How could it not?
“She was very serious about perfecting the mane,” Kia adds.
“She gets that from her mom.” As soon as the comment is out of my mouth, I want to shove it back inside.
The mood shifts, and Kia stills for a beat, her gaze dropping to the counter before seeking mine out again. “I think she probably gets it from you too.”
Everything inside me expands until it feels like my skin is too tight for my body. I look away, suddenly fascinated by the pot simmering on the stove.
“It smells good,” I say gruffly, wanting to change the subject. “What’d you two make tonight?”
Kia wipes her hands on a towel before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She’s wearing jeans and a dark sweater. It’s simple yet stunning.
“Just something quick and easy,” she says. “Pasta with meat sauce, garlic bread, and salad.”
Elody points to the stove. “Daddy, she put cheese inside the bread.”
“Well,” I say, shrugging out of my coat and draping it over a chair tucked under the counter, “clearly, we’re keeping her.”
The words slip out before I can consider how they might come across. Kia’s wide gaze snaps to mine before darting away as color creeps into her cheeks.
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck, unsure how to proceed. This woman makes me feel so far out of my depth, it isn’t even funny. “Did you have a good day at school, bug?”
She nods. “Kennedy threw up at snack time.”
I blink. “She did?”
“Yeah, it was so gross. Then Max said he was gonna throw up.”
“Oh boy. Anything else?”
She thinks for a minute. “We painted reindeer. Mine had five heads.”
“That’s, um, actually terrifying.”
Kia’s lips tremble with a smile before she clears her throat. “Ms. Harding wanted to make sure I said hello to you. She seemed surprised to see me this morning,” she admits. “Especially after Elody told her I was living here.”
I can picture the look she gave Kia without much effort.
That woman has been low-key hitting on me since September.
Nothing overt, just enough to be obvious.
I’ve never encouraged it or even given her a reason to think I might.
I have zero interest in finding a warm body to slide into Sarah’s place.
I’m barely managing life as it is without inviting further complications.
Unconsciously, my gaze drifts to Kia. I can’t help but notice the way she moves through our space, her ease with Elody, or how naturally she fits without even trying.
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain the situation to her,” I mutter, already irritated at the thought of Kia having to navigate someone else’s assumptions.
“It’s fine,” she says. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to tell her, so I didn’t say anything.”
The truth is, I’m not sure what I want people to know yet.
And the fact that Kia handled it with that kind of instinctive discretion is a relief.
Even though it’s not the school’s business, I know better.
If they mention a change in household dynamics to the McIntyres or their lawyers, everything could explode in my face.
Instead of dwelling on the situation, I steer the topic in a different direction. “Am I in time for dinner?”
“Yup. We wanted to wait for you,” Kia says, checking the pot boiling away on the stove.
I’m taken aback by her response. Sarah used to eat without me all the time, making it clear that her life didn’t revolve around my schedule.
“Elody helped make everything,” Kia adds when I remain silent. “She was really cheffing it up. Right, El?”
“Is that so?” I ask, turning my attention to my daughter. “Is it possible that culinary school is on the horizon?”
“Being a cooker is fun,” Elody says before glancing at Kia with a grin.
“It definitely is,” Kia replies. “Especially when I have such a good sous chef.”
Something shifts unexpectedly inside me.
Kia turns the pot handles before handing Elody a smaller fork to test the noodles. I lean against the counter, content to watch them.
The easy way she fits into my life should be disconcerting.
So why isn’t it?
Dinner is filled with more stories about school and lots of laughter as Elody splatters sauce all over the place.
Once the plates are cleared away, she runs to the kitchen and grabs a pan from the counter. “Look, Daddy! We made brownies. There’s frosting and sprinkles!”
“Wow! We’re talking total sugar overload.”
Elody giggles before turning to Kia. “You’re staying forever, right?”
My hand pauses midway to my mouth for a drink.
“Well,” Kia says carefully, her gaze bouncing from me to Elody, “I’ll be here for a while.”
“For-ev-er,” Elody declares, stretching out the word.
“Hey.” I lower my voice. “Bug, Kia’s helping us out right now. But that doesn’t mean forever.”
Elody’s face crumples instantly. “Why not?”
I hesitate, caught between honesty and age-appropriate truth. “Because she has her own life,” I say finally. “School. Things she needs to figure out.”
Kia rubs slow, soothing circles on Elody’s back. “That doesn’t mean I’m disappearing. I promise I’ll tell you when it’s time for me to go.”
Elody sniffles as she considers this.
I glance over just in time to catch a flicker of emotion cross Kia’s face. Guilt, maybe? Longing too. It’s gone before I can pin it down, leaving me with the uneasy sense that this conversation was probably difficult for both of us.
With a nod, Elody goes back to eating her brownie like she didn’t just hit every exposed nerve I have.
Later, while Kia helps Elody with her pajamas, I load the dishwasher. It should be a relief that this arrangement is working. The schedule. The help. The stability. It’s everything my lawyer said I need to show the court.
Instead, all I can think about is the way my daughter’s face lights up when she stares at the pretty blonde.
The way Elody leaned into her at the table.
Or the way my own rhythm has started to sync with the sounds in this penthouse that weren’t there before.
Kia’s quiet laugh, her footsteps in the hall, the clink of her mug in the sink.
This is what I always wanted as a kid. A place that felt full instead of echoing. I thought I’d built it once. Instead, it turned out I was wrong.
Footsteps scamper down the hall, Elody’s voice reaching me before she does. “Daddy, Kia says we can play Go Fish!”
The younger woman appears behind her. My response to her presence is immediate and unwelcome. It’s an awareness that has nothing to do with logic or reason. I feel it before I can tamp it down or remind myself of the boundaries.
And the consequences.
I’ve never experienced this kind of reaction to a woman before.
It’s unnerving.
“Only if it’s okay with you,” she adds.
With a swallow, I shove those thoughts away. “Sure, I’m up for a game.”
Elody cheers before darting past me, already pulling cards from the box.
As Kia follows her into the living room, an undeniable truth hits me. Letting her stay might be the easiest decision I’ve made in a long time.
It also might be the biggest mistake.