“Balloon, balloon,” she said, gesturing to the yellow ones. She was wearing blue denim overalls over a pink shirt, a classic outfit for a little girl from Anytown, USA.
“You want one?” Aberlour asked, wondering if she understood him.
To his surprise, the little girl nodded.
Aberlour shrugged, looking around trying to see if he could spot the adult who might be responsible for this little bug, but he saw no one.
“Wait here, I’ll get you a balloon, okay?”
The toddler gave another nod, her pleased smile revealing a charmingly incomplete, toothy grin.
Aberlour chuckled as he reached for a new bag of balloons. He usually pre-inflated a few every day to make the process of replacements easier throughout the day, but all of them looked pathetic. He decided the little bug deserved to get a new fat one.
He stretched the new one a few times and the positioned the open end to begin inflating it. He took a deep breath and started to blow it up. Up, up, up. Her blue eyes grew wide, and she began bouncing on her toes as he stopped to take another deep breath and then kept going. The yellow balloon began to fill his vision.
If he made it any bigger, it would explode. So, carefully pinching the open end, Aberlour began to tie it off. Suddenly, he heard a man’s panicked voice rise above the usual pandemonium of the fairgrounds.
“Mia!”
Typical sound of a parent working himself into a frenzy at having misplaced one of his brood. Aberlour chuckled as he finished securing the knot and looked up to see that the little girl was now in the arms of her father.
“She ran for the balloons,” Aberlour said, neglecting to pay any attention to the man holding the girl.
“She loves them,” the father said with a sad smile.
Aberlour’s world came to a screeching halt.
“Oliver.”
The name slipped out before Aberlour consciously realized who was right there in front of him.
Oliver motherfucking Darling. Standing before Aberlour with a toddler in his arms. As he lived and breathed, Aberlour couldn’t quite believe it. He forced himself to breathe normally and not lose his shit.
“Guess you’ve met Mia,” Oliver said, glancing down at Mia and then looking back up at Aberlour.
Aberlour looked at the little girl again, and just like that, he saw it. The big blue eyes. The very same as her father’s. The toothy grin, not quite heartbreaking just yet, but it would be. One day, it would be, no doubt about it.
“Your daughter,” Aberlour said emotionlessly. It wasn’t quite a question. Wasn’t quite a statement. It was something in between.
“My youngest, yeah,” he agreed. She made another grabbing motion, making Aberlour realize he was still holding the balloon. He extended it towards her before she became upset. She grabbed it and giggled, her sticky hands making funny sounds as they stuck to the rubber.
“Wow, look at you, sunshine. The biggest balloon at the fair! You’re a lucky girl,” Oliver said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he crooned softly at her, his love for her obvious in his words and body language.
Oliver fucking Darling. The last time that Aberlour had seen him, he’d stormed away from him in the parking lot at his engagement party. He hadn’t spoken to him since. Team Specter was long gone, and Oliver had chosen another life.Aberlour had moved on, unwilling to try to hang onto something that wasn’t meant to be in this lifetime. He’d deserved better. He’d deserved—hell if he knew exactly what that was. But it sure as shit wasn’t anything to do with Oliver fucking Darling.
Shaking off those depressing thoughts, Aberlour took a good look at Oliver. He’d changed, and not for the better. He was lean. A little too lean, in Aberlour’s opinion. His hair had thinned out, and it was considerably shorter than it had ever been since those early days at Parris Island. The bags under his eyes were dark and stood out in sharp relief against his fair skin. He looked as if he hadn’t seen the sun in quite some time. So pale, and—frail? Was it possible? He was leaning on a cane, even as he held Mia against one shoulder, and had shifted his weight a few times.
Aberlour had missed what he’d said, but suddenly, he let her down and she took off like a shot. He stared after her, and although Aberlour leaned forward to watch her leave, he couldn’t tell where she was headed.
“Her mother is standing in line with her older sister, waiting for a ride in the teacups,” Oliver explained as he watched Mia get back in line with her mother. Then he turned back to face Aberlour
“How is Abby?” Aberlour asked.
“Do you care?”
“No.”
Oliver chuckled roughly, as if he had a summer cold.
