So do I.
Air clogs my lungs, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Kia recovers before I do. With a smile, she hands over the bunny.
“Thank you,” she says lightly, but there’s a wobble in her voice she isn’t quite able to hide.
Elody curls against her side, as if she’s been doing it for years.
When the show they’re watching finally ends, I clear my throat. “All right, bug. Bedtime. You know the drill.”
Elody groans but doesn’t argue. Instead of reaching for me, she takes Kia’s hand before sliding off the couch. The simple gesture is enough to rock me. It’s quiet yet seismic. This is what parenting with a partner looks like. It’s what I’ve been missing since the day my little girl was born, even if I didn’t realize it right away.
In the bedroom, Elody climbs beneath the covers while Kia smooths her hair back with gentle fingers. I stand at the foot of the bed, watching, unwilling to interrupt the moment.
It’s one I never thought I’d see. Someone else loving my little girl the way she deserves to be loved.
“Daddy?” Elody glances at me.
“Yeah?”
“Can Mommy come to school and help out like the other mommies do?”
Kia’s hand stills in Elody’s hair as her gaze lifts to mine. I have to swallow past the thick lump of emotion swelling in my throat before I can answer.
“Probably not tomorrow, bug,” I say gently. “But we’ll talk to your teacher about a day that works.”
Elody nods, satisfied with that response.
Once she’s tucked in, we linger beside her bed, watching as she gets comfortable, clutching both Penny and Bunny. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to even out and sleep to claim her.
We close the door behind us with care.
Once in the hallway, Kia exhales like she’s been holding her breath the entire time. “I didn’t overstep, did I?”
“Of course not,” I say immediately. “You’re so natural with her. It’s like you’ve always been part of her life.”
She studies my face, searching it silently. Maybe looking for doubt. She won’t find it.
“Elody is easy to love,” she says.
The words mean more than she could possibly understand.
I move closer and wrap my arms around her. “She’s lucky to have you. We both are. And just so you know, she loves you right back.”
Her body relaxes against mine. “I’m scared that you’ll lose her.”
“I know.” I press my lips to her forehead, holding her a little tighter. “But I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Later, after the dishes are done, I sit at the dining table with a folder spread open in front of me. There are court documents, schedules, and notes from my lawyer. Words like best interest, environment, and incident stare back at me in stark black ink.
Kia lingers nearby, pretending not to watch.
I trace a finger along the edge of the paper, my mind drifting to a version of tomorrow I don’t want to imagine. One where someone gets to decide if the life we’ve built is temporary. Where Elody’s morning routines change and bedtime looks different. Where Kia becomes a footnote instead of a constant.
The thought knots low in my gut.
I’ve faced pressure before. The kind that determines careers and legacies. Wins and losses measured in headlines and stats. But this is different. It’s not about performance. It’s about the custody of my daughter.
After another fifteen minutes, Kia crosses the room and sits in the chair beside me, close enough for her knee to brush mine.
