Page 14
Story: King of Power
She looks ready to push again, but instead, she sighs and nods reluctantly. I appreciate her concern. She means well. But right now, the last thing I want is to relive that encounter with Zeke or acknowledge how his sudden reentry into my life unsettled me.
The way he stood there, radiating strength and authority like he had a right to dictate what I did. Yet behind that bravadowas an unmistakable heat in his gaze when he looked at me—a tension so thick I could almost feel it wrapping around us both.
What did he want from me?
Did he truly wish I wasn’t there, or was that just an act?
His anger had seemed so genuine at first glance, yet I can’t shake the memory of how his eyes lingered on me—a mix of frustration and something deeper. Something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
I swallow hard and focus on a case file in front of me—anything to block out those memories—but no matter how hard I try, Zeke’s image refuses to leave my thoughts.
Despite leavingwork early on a Friday, I’m tense on my drive home. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic bounce of the tires against the asphalt sooth my frayed nerves. I glance at the clock on my dashboard, and a sense of relief washes over me. The sitter should have Leo settled after his day at school.
I take a deep breath, letting the familiar sights of my neighborhood wrap around me like a warm blanket. Tonight is my biweekly dinner with friends, and it’s Lydia’s turn to host.
It’s amazing how a simple dinner with Lydia and Olivia can transform my mood. Those evenings have become our sanctuary—a space to unwind, share stories, and laugh without judgment. I can almost hear Lydia’s infectious laughter ringing in my ears.
But tonight, I have another agenda. I want to know how Olivia knows Zeke and why he was so angry she was in his club. All my attempts to talk with her since that night have failed. Either she really is busy or she’s avoiding me.
Pulling into my driveway, the weight from today’s stress starts to lift. The sky is tinged with hues of pink and orange asthe sun sinks lower, casting a warm glow over everything. It feels like an invitation to breathe easy for once.
I shift the gear into park and take another moment before stepping out. A quick glance in the rearview mirror reveals shadows under my eyes, indicating just how many sleepless nights I’ve had. I’ve had too many restless nights thinking about Zeke. As much as I don’t want to think about him tonight, I need answers from Olivia. Answers that I hope will help me push Zeke out of my mind for good.
With that thought anchoring me, I hop out of the car and grab my bag from the passenger seat. My heart lightens as I stride toward the front door. I can’t wait to see Leo’s face when I walk in. He always lights up when he spots me, and it fills me with a warmth that pushes away all the doubt that I can be the kind of mom he needs.
Unlocking the door, I step inside to find everything just as I left it—a comforting familiarity in my own little world. As I hang up my coat, anticipation swells. I need my friends tonight more than I ever have.
After paying the sitter and saying our goodbyes, I head toward the kitchen to grab a snack. I stop short at Leo’s room when I hear him giggle softly from inside. The sound tugs at something deep within me—pure joy mixed with gratitude—and just for tonight, I’m ready to embrace every second of it.
I open the door to his room, a bright space filled with toys and books scattered across the floor like colorful confetti. His laughter, usually so infectious, stops abruptly as he glances up from where he sits on the floor. The joy drains from his expression and my heart sinks.
“Hey, buddy,” I say softly, taking a step inside. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks down at his hands, twisting a small action figure between his fingers. The silence stretches between us like an unwelcome chasm.
I kneel beside him, my heart heavy with worry. He only gets like this when something happens that he knows I won’t like. I’m very protective of him. Maybe a little overprotective.
“Did something happen at school today?”
He shrugs but keeps his gaze fixed on the floorboards. My mind races through possibilities. Did someone tease him? Was he reminded both his parents are gone? I can’t let this go unaddressed. I need him to talk about it.
“Leo,” I gently nudge him, trying to coax him into opening up, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”
His eyes dart up briefly before falling back to his toy. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
My chest tightens at his response. The little boy who lost so much deserves to always laugh—and his laughter is my lifeline in this sea of grief we’re navigating together.
“Okay,” I reply, keeping my voice calm and steady. “But we can’t leave for dinner until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
He lets out a soft sigh, the kind that makes my heart ache for him even more. He loves going to Lydia’s house and playing with her three kids. He won’t want to miss out on that. I feel bad for using it against him, but I need to know what happened.
“It’s just … some kids were mean.” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“What did they say?”
“They said I was weird.” He wipes away a tear that escapes his eyes.
“Honey, you’re not weird.”
The way he stood there, radiating strength and authority like he had a right to dictate what I did. Yet behind that bravadowas an unmistakable heat in his gaze when he looked at me—a tension so thick I could almost feel it wrapping around us both.
What did he want from me?
Did he truly wish I wasn’t there, or was that just an act?
His anger had seemed so genuine at first glance, yet I can’t shake the memory of how his eyes lingered on me—a mix of frustration and something deeper. Something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
I swallow hard and focus on a case file in front of me—anything to block out those memories—but no matter how hard I try, Zeke’s image refuses to leave my thoughts.
Despite leavingwork early on a Friday, I’m tense on my drive home. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic bounce of the tires against the asphalt sooth my frayed nerves. I glance at the clock on my dashboard, and a sense of relief washes over me. The sitter should have Leo settled after his day at school.
I take a deep breath, letting the familiar sights of my neighborhood wrap around me like a warm blanket. Tonight is my biweekly dinner with friends, and it’s Lydia’s turn to host.
It’s amazing how a simple dinner with Lydia and Olivia can transform my mood. Those evenings have become our sanctuary—a space to unwind, share stories, and laugh without judgment. I can almost hear Lydia’s infectious laughter ringing in my ears.
But tonight, I have another agenda. I want to know how Olivia knows Zeke and why he was so angry she was in his club. All my attempts to talk with her since that night have failed. Either she really is busy or she’s avoiding me.
Pulling into my driveway, the weight from today’s stress starts to lift. The sky is tinged with hues of pink and orange asthe sun sinks lower, casting a warm glow over everything. It feels like an invitation to breathe easy for once.
I shift the gear into park and take another moment before stepping out. A quick glance in the rearview mirror reveals shadows under my eyes, indicating just how many sleepless nights I’ve had. I’ve had too many restless nights thinking about Zeke. As much as I don’t want to think about him tonight, I need answers from Olivia. Answers that I hope will help me push Zeke out of my mind for good.
With that thought anchoring me, I hop out of the car and grab my bag from the passenger seat. My heart lightens as I stride toward the front door. I can’t wait to see Leo’s face when I walk in. He always lights up when he spots me, and it fills me with a warmth that pushes away all the doubt that I can be the kind of mom he needs.
Unlocking the door, I step inside to find everything just as I left it—a comforting familiarity in my own little world. As I hang up my coat, anticipation swells. I need my friends tonight more than I ever have.
After paying the sitter and saying our goodbyes, I head toward the kitchen to grab a snack. I stop short at Leo’s room when I hear him giggle softly from inside. The sound tugs at something deep within me—pure joy mixed with gratitude—and just for tonight, I’m ready to embrace every second of it.
I open the door to his room, a bright space filled with toys and books scattered across the floor like colorful confetti. His laughter, usually so infectious, stops abruptly as he glances up from where he sits on the floor. The joy drains from his expression and my heart sinks.
“Hey, buddy,” I say softly, taking a step inside. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks down at his hands, twisting a small action figure between his fingers. The silence stretches between us like an unwelcome chasm.
I kneel beside him, my heart heavy with worry. He only gets like this when something happens that he knows I won’t like. I’m very protective of him. Maybe a little overprotective.
“Did something happen at school today?”
He shrugs but keeps his gaze fixed on the floorboards. My mind races through possibilities. Did someone tease him? Was he reminded both his parents are gone? I can’t let this go unaddressed. I need him to talk about it.
“Leo,” I gently nudge him, trying to coax him into opening up, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”
His eyes dart up briefly before falling back to his toy. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
My chest tightens at his response. The little boy who lost so much deserves to always laugh—and his laughter is my lifeline in this sea of grief we’re navigating together.
“Okay,” I reply, keeping my voice calm and steady. “But we can’t leave for dinner until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
He lets out a soft sigh, the kind that makes my heart ache for him even more. He loves going to Lydia’s house and playing with her three kids. He won’t want to miss out on that. I feel bad for using it against him, but I need to know what happened.
“It’s just … some kids were mean.” His voice is barely above a whisper.
“What did they say?”
“They said I was weird.” He wipes away a tear that escapes his eyes.
“Honey, you’re not weird.”
Table of Contents
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