Page 140 of Hamartia

Julien turns his head and nods at me, hands far too busy to wave, and smiles brightly. I like him, and he’s an amazing second (or is it third) dad to Coralie. He’s ten years older than Cam, widowed, and with a seven-year-old son who Lili adores. He directs plays and ballets and is as perfectly French as Camille’s dad always wanted her husband to be. The only person who Jérémie would have hated more than me as Camille’s husband would have been Mason—Mason who sobered up, got over Camille, and married a sweet Australian girl in the space of six months. He now has five-month-old twins and lives on a ranch in Albuquerque. We talk every other day.

“You need me to do anything?” I ask, dutifully.

Camille shakes her head and hurries off to do something else. While Julien stops to say hello to Jae, I sneak out of the room and down the hallway toward Lili’s room. As I get closer, I can hear the sound of her sing-song voice babbling animatedly in French.

The door is open and so I stand there for a bit, watching as she directs Mathèo to place this there and that there. She’s wearing a white summer dress with purple cats on it and a set of white cat ears—the K:OS branded ones Jae had gifted her for Christmas. Of course she’s a K:Otic.

Since I don’t speak French, not on any proper level at least, I can only watch her expressions as she chats to Mathèo, and his for clues to what she’s telling him. It appears to be some kind of lesson in interior design.

When she stands up to walk around to the back of the doll’s house, she sees me.

“Papaaaaaaaaaah!” she cries excitedly.

The way her face always lights up when she sees me makes my heart full to bursting point every fucking time.It makes me think of myself as a little kid too, how desperately I wanted my dad to walk back through that door. I don’t feel bitter about this anymore, just sad. Sad for little Raphael.

Lili places the little toy chair down carefully first before barreling toward me, blonde curls streaming out behind her.

“Joyeux anniversaire, ma jolie chérie.” I plant a kiss on her reddened cheek as I lift her up.

“Merci, Papa,” and then she starts babbling in French.

“English words, princess, remember?”

“I’m sorry, papa. I try to learn engish with maman every day. Julien too.”

“I know baby, you’re so smart, and papa isn’t.”

She giggles at this and starts talking to me in broken ‘engish’ about her dolls house, but then she lets out another excited cry and squirms for me to let her down.

“Jae-un!! Papa, it’s Jae-un!!”

I let her down and she runs down the hall toward him, arms wide and laughing happily. Jae doesn’t lift her, instead crouching down to her height so she can wrap her little arms around him and give him two pecks on the cheek. Then she turns her cheek so he can do the same. Then he wishes her happy birthday in French.

“Bonjour, Raphael,” comes the little voice from beside me. Mathèo looks up at me with big doe-like eyes. I settle a hand around his tiny shoulders.

“Hey buddy, how’s things? You good?”

“Yes, I am well, thank you. And you?”

I smile at how practiced it is. “Really good, Matty. Really good. How’s your guitar playing coming along.”

“Good! Will you listen to my song later? I learned it for Lili’s birthday.” He whispers this second part.

“Oh, she’s going to love that. Of course, I’ll listen to it, I’d love to. Your dad says you’re getting really good.”

Mathèo smiles wide at this, little chest puffing out.

“I want to be as good as you one day,” he says making some intense rush of emotion hit me squarely in the chest.

“Yeah? I bet you’ll be better than me soon.” I ruffle his hair a little as we walk toward Lili and Jae who are deep in conversation like two old friends, Lili’s eyes filled with hero worship and love. Like father like daughter in that sense, I guess.

So fucking lucky, I think again.So fucking lucky.