“Wow, you did?” I feign surprise. “Well then, I guess pizza is well-deserved.”
“Yay!” he cheers, doing a little wiggle dance in his seat. “Pizza, pizza!”
I laugh, sitting down across from him. “But you have to put the pepperoni in the shape of a Poké Ball. Deal?”
“Deal!” He grins, digging into his pasta with gusto, shoveling a forkful into his mouth, and smearing tomato sauce across his cheek in the process.
Such a boy. I reach over with a napkin, wiping away the mess. He barely seems to notice, too engrossed in his story.
I take a bite of my own pasta, my eyes never leaving the little bundle of energy in front of me.
Brown eyes flecked with a hint of amber sparkle as he talks. His dark curls didn’t come from my DNA.
As it turns out, it’s hard to see much of myself in him.
No, with his distinct nose and strong brow, he’s the spitting image of…him. The stranger in the mask. The man who haunts my dreams and my nightmares.
All I was sure of was… that he was Russian.
But then Elijah smiles, and there it is. That little dimple in his left cheek, a perfect match to my own.
God, this kid is gonna break hearts one day. I can see it already. The girls—or boys, I’m not picky—falling over themselves for that dimpled grin.
“Mommy, guess what?” Elijah pipes up, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What, sweetie?”
“We got a new girl in class today! Her name is Lily, and she’s really nice.”
I beam proudly, watching him navigate the confusing concepts of today and yesterday—it’s a big step for a 4-year-old.
“It’syesterday, Elijah. And that’s great, honey. Did you make friends with her?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Yep! I shared my Pokémon cards with her at recess. She likes Pikachu, too!”
“Well, Pikachu is pretty great,” I agree. “I’m glad you made a new friend.”
Elijah takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?”
I nearly choke on my pasta. The question comes out of the blue. It’s not the first time he’s asked, but it never gets easier. How do you explain to a 4-year-old that his father is… what? A supervillain? An evil mastermind? A man I’m not even sure is fully human?
“Well, sweetie…” I start, choosing my words carefully. “Not everyone has a daddy. Some families are different.”
He nods, seeming to accept this. “That’s okay. I have you, and Uncle Mitch, and Uncle Stephan. That’s all I need.”
Elijah’s words make my stomach drop. The fact that he doesn’t mention his grandpa is just another reminder of all the crap we’ve been through these years.
I reach out, wiping another smudge of sauce from the corner of his mouth with my thumb. My boy, my sweet, innocent boy. He has no idea about the mess of pain and love and betrayal that tangles up this family.
I force a smile, but it feels fake on my face.
“Yeah, baby,” I say, my voice coming out all rough and shaky. “That’s all we need.”
eighteen
Clara
I'm sitting at the dining table with Elijah, watching him devour his spaghetti like it’s his last meal. His cheeks are puffed out, smeared with red sauce, and there’s a noodle dangling from his chin.
