"You sure?" I looked at the charred eggs.
"I'm sure."
"Suit yourself." I returned to the living room with Leo.
Ten minutes later, Kholod emerged carrying a plate.
"Noelle, it's ready."
I glanced at it—
The eggs were scrambled into pieces, the bacon half-burnt, the toast hard as rocks.
"This is what you call 'ready'?"
"I..." His face reddened. "I really tried my best..."
"This is your best? You can't even make breakfast, and you want to make amends?"
"Sorry..." He hung his head. "I... I'll keep trying..."
"Forget it." I stood up and handed Leo to him. "Hold him. I'll cook."
"Okay..." He carefully took Leo.
I went into the kitchen and surveyed the disaster zone, sighing deeply.
I cracked two fresh eggs and fried them quickly.
Cooked new bacon, toasted fresh bread.
When I came out with the plate, I saw Kholod holding Leo stiffly, his posture so awkward it was almost comical.
"Holding him like that makes him uncomfortable."
"Then... how should I hold him?"
"Support his head, steady his bottom." I demonstrated. "Like this. Got it?"
"Let me try..."
He adjusted his position but still looked stiff.
Leo squirmed in his arms, clearly uncomfortable.
"Forget it, give him back." I took Leo back.
"Noelle..."
"What?"
"Thank you for teaching me," he said earnestly.
After that, he showed up every day. Despite constant mishaps—pasta turned to mush, formula powder spilled everywhere—he was slowly improving.
A month later, he could finally handle basic tasks like making bottles and changing diapers independently.
"Noelle, look, I did it!" He held Leo, beaming with pride. "He's not crying!"
