The only clear feeling inside me is the fear that this is some kind of episode—that tomorrow or the next day he’ll simply leave, doing to my son’s heart exactly what he did to mine. That is the one thing the mother I am could never forgive.
I never intended for Kael to meet him until I could be sure that wouldn’t happen. His presence, the revelation that he wasnever engaged, the guarantee that he would give up any claim to our son’s custody—everything destabilized me. And when I heard my little boy’s voice, I simply opened the door.
It was a stupid mistake. And of course, of all the things that could have happened, what happened was Kael seeing himself in Nero. They’re identical, it’s true. And not just in appearance—many gestures and tastes too. My son is practically a miniature version of his father, even without ever having lived with him.
“I’m done, Mom,” Kael announces.
I blink down at my own plate, still full. Then my eyes move to Kael’s—perfectly empty, even though I didn’t let him donate his broccoli and peppers to Nero.
Nero’s plate is empty too. Even though the vegetables I know he hates were all I put on it. I think I’m allowed to be a little petty, right?
“Very good, love.”
“You didn’t eat everything, Mom,” Kael points out.
I look down again, but not in time to miss the little half-smile tugging at Nero’s mouth. I ignore him.
“Are you too tired to eat again?” Kael asks.
My gaze returns to him, and out of the corner of my eye I see Nero’s expression harden instantly.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Mommy’s just very tired. I’ll eat later,” I reassure him, and he nods.
“Mom, can I take Nero to my room so he can see my heroes?” Kael asks.
I bring my fingers to my temples, massaging the throbbing there. I need to sleep. Or at least try—if the chaos in my head allows it.
“No, love. He needs to leave. We’ll do that another time, okay?”
“Nero,” Kael repeats—and it hits me that between my son’s sudden appearance and his unexpected discovery, Nero was never properly introduced to him.
I should tell him, right? That he’s his father? Kael already knows anyway. But I can’t. And I don’t think anyone could judge me for that. It’s too soon.
It’s definitely too soon for us to be here—sitting together at the table—when Nero reappeared after five years just yesterday. My mind reminds me, mercilessly, that things with Nero were never known for moving slowly. Time was never important to him before.
I answer that reminder with an even harsher one. By refusing to let things unfold in their own time, we ended up where we are. I might not have worried about risking my own heart—but I will not do that with my son’s.
I look at Nero. His expression is simply expectant. No indignation at my immediate refusal, no judgment—nothing. Just resignation and something like… longing? I shake my head, brushing the thought away. He can’t miss what he never had.
“What do you have to do?” Kael turns to Nero and asks.
Nero looks to me for help. It takes effort not to roll my eyes.
“He needs to work,” I say.
“That’s okay,” Kael agrees. “You really do have to work a lot.” His head bobs up and down as he finishes.
“Do I?” his father encourages, amused.
“Yes. Because my birthday’s coming up and I want four presents, because I’m turning four,” he announces.
“One present for each year?” Nero asks, delighted.
I’ve been so lost in my thoughts over the last half hour—just nodding and smiling until Kael told me he was done eating—that this is the first interaction between him and Nero I actually pay attention to. The undeniable joy on Nero’s face and the ease with which Kael talks to him make my chest tighten.
“That’s right. I always get three. One from Mom, one from Grandma, and one from you,” my son reveals the lie I fed him over the years without realizing what he’s doing. Nero’s eyes widen immediately. “Oh! Thanks for last year’s, Dad.”
The tear that slips down Nero’s face is quick and unstoppable. He blinks, dazed, and I pull Kael’s attention back to me.
