7. Kim #3
The red diamond climbed into the blue sky, tail streaming behind it, catching the wind and riding it higher and higher. Zoe cheered. Xavier stared.
"How did you—"
"Foster home number six." I handed the string to Zoe, guiding her small hands. "The dad was really into kites. It's the only good thing I learned there."
Zoe held the string with both hands, face tilted toward the sky, watching the kite dance in the wind. Her expression was pure joy. Pure wonder.
"I'm doing it!" she squealed. "Mommy, look, I'm doing it!"
"You're doing it, baby."
Xavier moved to stand beside me. Close. Not quite touching.
"Show me," he said. "Teach me."
So I did. I stood behind him, my hands over his on the string, showing him how to feel the wind, how to give the kite room to climb, how to pull back when it started to dive.
His back was warm against my chest. His hands were large beneath mine.
I remained in the moment. I’d worry about any feelings later.
"Like this?" His voice was lower now. Closer.
"Like that."
The kite soared higher.
When Xavier finally got it airborne on his own—after extensive coaching from both me and Zoe—and my daughter cheered like he'd won an Olympic medal.
"You did it! You did it!"
The expression on Xavier's face made something crack open in my chest. Pride. Joy. Wonder. Like this simple accomplishment meant more to him than any business deal ever could.
It didn't look like acting at all.
Later, Zoe fell asleep on the blanket, exhausted from running and laughing and the simple pleasure of a good day. Her head rested on my lap, her elephant clutched to her chin, her small chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.
Xavier sat beside us, legs stretched out, watching the other families pack up and leave as the afternoon faded toward evening.
"She's a good kid," he said.
"She's everything." My hand moved through Zoe's hair, gentle, automatic. "She's the only thing I've ever done right."
"I don't think that's true."
I looked at him. He was watching me now, not Zoe.
"You're a good mother," he said. "Anyone can see that."
I didn't know what to do with the compliment. It felt too big, too intimate. More personal than a kiss, somehow. More exposed.
"I didn't have a model for it," I admitted. The words came out before I could stop them. "Foster care isn't exactly... I just figured it out as I went."
"Seems like you figured it out well."
I risked a glance at him. He was watching Zoe again, something soft in his expression. Something unguarded. He looked younger like this. Less polished. Real.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For today. For all of this."
"Don't thank me yet." He grinned. "I'm still processing the trauma of being defeated by a kite." I laughed. Xavier's grin softened into something warmer. "That's a good sound," he said. "You should do it more often."
I looked away, heart hammering, and didn't respond.
The drive home was quiet.
Zoe slept in the backseat, worn out from the day, her kite clutched in her arms like a trophy. Xavier drove carefully, taking turns slowly, avoiding potholes like each one was a personal offense.
"Thank you," I said again. "For today."
"For getting tangled in a kite string?"
I smiled despite myself. "For spending time with her. I know she had a lovely day. Because of you."
Xavier glanced at me. In the passing streetlights, his expression was completely unguarded. Vulnerable in a way I'd never seen.
"Come on," he said. "I enjoyed it just as much as she did."
We pulled up to my building. Xavier insisted on carrying Zoe upstairs—she'd barely stirred when he lifted her from the backseat, her head lolling against his shoulder with complete trust. I watched him cradle her carefully, like she was something precious, and something twisted in my chest.
He laid her gently in her bed while I pulled off her shoes and tucked the blanket around her.
She stirred. "Mommy?"
"I'm here, baby."
"Today was the best day." Her eyes were already closing again. "Mr. Xavier is nice."
"Yeah." I kissed her forehead. "He is."
Xavier was waiting in the living room when I emerged. He looked out of place. Too polished for this life.
"I should go," he said.
"Yeah." But neither of us moved. "Zoe likes you," I said. It felt important, somehow.
His eyes met mine. "Just her?"
My pulse jumped. I should answer honestly. Should tell him that no, it wasn't just Zoe. That somewhere along the way, against my better judgment, I'd started to like him too. That the kiss had meant something. That today had meant something. That I was terrified of how much I was starting to feel.
But I couldn't. Couldn't open that door. Couldn't risk everything I'd built on something that might not be real.
"Goodnight, Xavier."
I walked to the door and opened it. An invitation to leave. An escape from the question I couldn't answer. He walked past me, pausing in the doorway. Close. So close.
"Goodnight, Kim." He left.
I closed the door and leaned against it, heart pounding, mind racing. This was supposed to be simple. A transaction. A job. It was becoming something else entirely.
And I had no idea what to do about it.