Page 23

Kairi

A few days had passed since Ashlen had confronted me, but her words still crept into the back of my mind when I least expected it. At the time, I felt like I had handled her—stood my ground, and showed strength that I usually didn’t. But the more I thought about it, the less confident I felt. I hadn’t told Atlas about Dion yet. I wasn’t ready to face him—not yet. I knew his anger would be big. But I also knew I couldn’t dodge him forever.

Today would be the day. As soon as I heard him talking to a nurse just outside the door, panic flared in my chest. Ms. Shirley and my father were talking as I quickly gathered Dion’s things, slipping his blanket into the diaper bag with one hand while balancing him on my hip.

“Time to go,” I whispered to him, and he babbled back—a few words mixed with gibberish, but I understood he wasn’t ready to go. I could have left him with my father, but I didn’t want to give Atlas a chance to look at him too hard and see what his wife had seen.

I turned to my father and Ms. Shirley, forcing a smile. “I’ve got to run. I need to find somewhere to live so you two can have privacy again. We’ll visit again tomorrow,” I said, kissing Ms. Shirley’s cheek and giving my dad a quick hug. They barely had time to respond before I was heading for the door.

As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I glanced back, hearing Atlas’s voice get louder. He was getting closer. I moved quickly in the opposite direction, keeping my head down, slipping out of the hospital exit. My heart was pounding.

I thought I’d made a clean getaway. Dion was strapped into his car seat, content and quiet, as I pushed the ignition to start. I was pulling out of the parking space when the back door flew open, and Atlas slipped into the back seat next to Dion. My heart jumped. His sudden presence filled the space, making it hard to think clearly.

“Get out,” I said, not looking at him.

“Kairi, wait,” he replied, his voice calm but firm, like he wasn’t going anywhere until we talked. “I just want to help. I also want to apologize for the way I spoke to you.”

My grip tightened on the steering wheel. I kept my eyes forward, focused on the rearview mirror instead of him. Dion hummed softly to himself, oblivious.

“I don’t need your help, Atlas.” I didn’t mention the apology.

Atlas leaned forward, his presence seeming too big for the huge SUV. “I think you do.” His voice was gentle. “Your dad said you’re looking for apartments. Let me help you. I know you just planned to wing it. I’ve called ahead to some places, got codes to enter and check them out—your price range and enough space for kids. For Dion.”

He knew me too well. I had no real plan—just a vague idea of what I was looking for, hoping it would all come together. Atlas was organized. He always had been. His eyes caught mine in the mirror.

“I want to be friends again. Leave the past in the past,” he added.

I went to chewing the hell out of the inside of my cheek to keep from telling him we weren’t friends ever. . He wasn’t wrong, I needed help. But letting him in, even just a little, meant getting closer. And I didn’t know if I could handle that right now. But Ashlen might say something any day now about Dion, and I’d rather tell Atlas myself. This was the perfect time.

“Fine,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “You can help.”

Atlas smiled, relief spreading across his face. “Good,” he said.

I glanced back at Dion, who was babbling softly to himself, his chubby hands playing with the straps of his car seat. Atlas reached over, brushing Dion’s hair back with a tenderness that made something in my chest tighten.

“Hey, little man,” he said, grinning at Dion.

Watching them together felt surreal. There was an easiness in the way Atlas was with Dion, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The drive to the first house was quiet, apart from Dion’s occasional bursts of chatter. Atlas carried him when we arrived, his large hands cradling Dion like he was a baby instead of a three-year-old. We walked through the house, Atlas pointing out details—things I hadn’t even noticed—like the layout and how the rooms would work for Dion.

He was thorough. Practical. It was a beautiful house, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

“You know,” Atlas said out of nowhere, “Dion’s pretty advanced for a two-year-old.”

I felt my throat tighten, panic creeping in. Dion would be three in a few days. I had forgotten Dion had told him that. He’d been saying “I two” since he was one—one of his friends at daycare taught him. I avoided Atlas’s gaze, brushing off the comment.

“Yeah, he’s pretty smart,” I replied. Before he could ask more, I quickly shifted the conversation. “What about this place? How much is it?”

Atlas studied me for a moment before answering, a small crease forming between his brows. I knew he noticed the way I changed the subject, but thankfully, he didn’t press.

“It’s priced decently,” he said. “Close to your dad and Ms. Shirley. I think it’s perfect for you.”

“You did well choosing this place. I don’t even think I need to look anymore,” I said as we wandered through the kitchen.

Atlas stopped to lean against the counter, watching Dion explore the house, his small hands touching every surface.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” he said, breaking the silence. “When’s Dion’s birthday?”

This was the moment. I had rehearsed it over and over, imagining how I would tell him. I could feel the truth rising to the surface, ready to spill out.

But before it could, my phone rang. I flinched, pulling it out and checking the screen. Davis.

I glanced at Atlas, who raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. With a small sigh, I answered. “Hey.”

“Hey, babe. How’s everything going? How’s Dion?”

Davis was a much-needed distraction. My gaze flicked to Atlas. He continued to lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching me. He didn’t even pretend not to listen.

“We’re good,” I said. “Dion’s fine. We’re just looking at some places.”

“Good to hear. I miss you guys.”

“I miss you too,” I replied, trying to keep my voice low. “I’ll call you later, okay? I’m in one of the houses now.”

After hanging up, I slid the phone back into my pocket, turning to face Atlas. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the tension in the room.

“Who was that?” he asked, his voice careful but rough.

“My boyfriend,” I answered simply, watching his reaction closely.

Something flickered in his eyes—something ugly, but it was gone as quickly as it came. His lips twisted into a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He turned and walked towards the door, his shoulders rigid.

“I’m ready to go when you are,” he said over his shoulder. He bent down, gently lifting a now-sleeping Dion from the floor where he had curled up, cradling him. Without another word, he carried Dion out of the house.

I stood there for a moment, rooted to the spot. Shit. I was handling this all wrong.