“I don’t have any family, not with my DNA at least. Or I don’t think I do. If I do, I’ve never met them anyway.” Once she started, it was like she couldn’t stop. "I grew up in foster care and group homes. I was taken as a ward of the state when I was two, and I don’t have any memory before that. There wasn’t a record of either of my parents. I was found abandoned in a home. No one ever came forward or filed a petition to care for me, so…”
That was information only a handful of people knew, and Tiana started feeling insecure. Niko stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. She wished she knew what he was thinking.
“What about Pops?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m not related to him. He’s my family, but not by DNA.”
“Isn’t his last name Matthews?” he questioned.
“Yes, I changed my last name from Pike to Matthews when I got emancipated.”
“Your last name was Pike?”
“Yep.” She nodded. “That was the street that the house was on that they found me in.”
Niko set down his fork and took in a deep breath. “So you knew Pops when you were growing up?”
Tiana explained Pops’ role in her life, the liquor store, the stealing, her ‘employment.’ How he had been her only constant, and how she believed, saved her life.
“Wow, that’s…” Niko took in another deep breath, and she could see he was processing everything she’d told him. “…that’s…
She wasn’t sure where he was going with that open-ended sentence. That’ssad, that’stoo bad, that’scrazy.
It took her by complete surprise when, instead of saying anything, he stood up out of his chair and pulled her into his arms in one of the best hugs she’d ever had in her life. At first, she just patted his back lightly, not allowing herself to absorb all the support and good energy infusing through him. But then, at some point, that changed, and she just melted.
His hands were holding her so tightly, his entire body was vibrating with something powerful, something positive, something protective. He kept adjusting his hold on her. Shifting his arms so he pulled her even tighter against him, as if he couldn’t get her close enough. Each time a delicious tingling sensation ran through her. His heartbeat was pounding against her cheek. She could feel it thudding powerfully.
When she got married, she never legally changed her name because she’d never wanted to belong to anyone. But in that moment, belonging to the man who held her like he would neverlet her go did not sound bad at all. In fact, it sounded better than anything in the world.
She felt, more than heard, his breath shudder on a jagged inhale as he whispered, his voice so low and rough it barely crossed the gap between them, “I’m so sorry.”
He sounded shaken, as if it were his own story he was mourning.
She tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a wavy exhale. “I’m fine. Really.”
“I know. But I just keep thinking of that little girl, all alone.” His voice was thin, raspy, and shaky. “Who did she tell if she had nightmares? Who got her medicine if she had a sore throat or put Band-Aids on when she fell? Who noticed if she had a bad day? Who picked her up from school if she was sick? Who did she go prom dress shopping with?”
“She didn’t go to prom,” she revealed, hoping he couldn’t hear in her voice that tears were now falling down her face. She wasn’tcrying, her eyes were just leaking.
No one had ever thought about that little girl, or at least they’d never voiced it to her if they had.
“Who stayed with her in the hospital if she got her tonsils removed or broke a bone? Who did she tell about her first crush or her first heartbreak? Who taught her to ride a bike or drive?” He inhaled deeply.
She had no answer except a shrug, which she had no clue if he felt. His arms held her as if they could patch up all her missing years with the sheer force of his embrace. The thing was, if any arms could do it, his would be the ones. She kept her head pressed to Niko’s chest, absorbing the energy of someone who actually saw her, or at least saw the little girl whowasterrified and alone. Who had no one to tell her nightmares to, or put Band-Aids on, or get picked up from school by, and definitely not notice if she was having a bad day. She tried not to thinkabout that little girl often. Because it made her sad and often brought on panic attacks.
Niko’s hand found the base of her skull, fingers threading through her hair. His other arm was a steel band around her waist, and his breath was right in her ear now. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m okay, really,” she assured him as she stiffened, trying to steel herself when he inevitably would not be there for her to lean on.
He must have sensed her switch in demeanor because his arms dropped to his sides and he stepped back as he apologized, “Sorry. It’s just I’ve seen what kids go through in the system, and most of, actually all of the kids I know have some family—siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents…and I’m just…I’m sorry.”
The second she was out of his embrace, she felt…exposed. Vulnerable. More naked than she had been the night before. She felt something shift inside her, like a wall she’d leaned against for years had crumbled. She didn’t know what to do with the space it left behind.
“It’s okay, I’m okay, really,” she assured him, although at the moment she wasnotfeeling okay.
They settled back into their seats, the mood softer, as if the air had been cleared, the table remade into a smaller, safer planet where only the two of them existed.
She stared at her half-eaten meal, appetite suddenly gone. He’d inhaled all his food, both dishes clean. Neither said anything, and to fill the space, she blurted out, “I, um, made dessert.”
