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I attempted to find him on social media by searching for his name, but with a common name like Brandon, it was nearly impossible. I despise him so much that if we were to cross paths again, I'd probably kick him where it hurts. However, as much as I loathe him, I also wish for his well-being and hope that maybe he just vanished because he's a jerk.
Gianna lowers her face so Kira can reach her nose. “I’m busy enough as it is, Anya. Can’t you see?’
“No, I can’t see.” I put some plates into the cabinet, and then some wine glasses and mugs. “You said you’d help.”
“I’m helping.” She looks at me, and then back at Kira. They both chuckle as if they’re sharing some secret. “I’m keeping my niece busy. She’s all that matters.”
I can't help but roll my eyes and let out a groan. Gianna is so good with Kira, it's impossible not to smile at them. After I gave birth, she visited me every weekend, and Kira has grown quite fond of her. "If you don't come over and help me, I'll make you babysit every night," I tease. Gianna effortlessly scoops up Kira from the floor and stands up, carrying her into the kitchen as she strolls along.
Kira opens her arms to me. “Mama.”
I grin widely, making my face scrunch up as I playfully tickle her.
It's been two years since I made the decision to keep her, and I have never once regretted it. Having her in my life brings me more joy than I ever imagined. If given the chance to go back to that fateful night with Brandon, I would make the same choice again. Kira was not planned, but she is not a mistake either. She is the greatest blessing in my life.
Her tiny teeth peek out as she giggles uncontrollably; she is absolutely adorable. "Mama," she says once more, reaching out her arms for a hug.
I take her from Gianna and kiss her forehead. “How are you, baby? Did you miss Mommy?”
Her response is reaching for my breast. I know for a fact that she’s not hungry, since I fed her ten minutes ago.
“I’ll babysit Kira on one condition.”
I groan. I already know what she’ll say before she says it. “Don’t.”
“Go on a date,” she whispers as if she doesn’t want anyone else to hear us. “You’re still very young.”
“I’m twenty-five.”
“Still young,” she repeats dryly, folding her arms over her chest. “Find a better excuse.”
That has been my specialty for months now, coming up with excuses to avoid meeting new guys. “Kira is still a baby.”
Gianna shakes her head in disbelief. "So, no dating until she's eighteen?" She waves away my explanation with a dismissive gesture. "Think of another excuse."
I pause to think, but I know deep down that my reasons are more than just excuses. My daughter is still a young child who needs all of my time and attention. I don't want to divide my presence between her and someone else. However, Gianna doesn't seem satisfied with this reasoning. Truthfully, there is another reason why I'm avoiding dating.
I had only known Brandon for a couple of days, but he left a lasting impression on me. Out of all the men I've met, none have made me feel the way he did. Most of them were arrogant and not worth my time anyway; they weren't my type at all. "Someday, when the timing is right," I say thoughtfully. "I know I'll meet someone special. But right now, my focus is on raising my daughter."
My cousin sighs. She gives me a pitiful look. “I know I’m being pushy about this, I’m sorry. I just want you to live your life. I don’t want you to have any regrets in the future.”
Kira squeals something in baby language and I laugh. She sounds like she’s yelling at Gianna.
“I’d walk through fire and give up my life for Kira, and I would still not regret it.” It’s simply the truth. I’d do anything for my daughter. Anything at all.
As a group of girls about my age walk by outside the window, their laughter catches my attention. I try not to listen in, but one of them utters, "He's back." I have no idea who they're talking about, but all four of them are cracking up, and it makes me curious.
"Who could they be talking about?" I inquire. It seems like I'm the newest member added to the list of people living in this gossip-filled small town.
“Mr. Jackson’s son,” Gianna answers. She walks to a box on the kitchen counter and begins to take out some spices.
“Mr. Jackson?” The name rings a bell because it’s Spencer’s last name. Funny how that asshole hasn’t crossed my mind in so long. “Who is that?”
“Just a guy who raises cattle,” she says nonchalantly, while organizing the spices in the cabinet. “His son is a highly trained Navy SEAL, and he hasn’t been home for at least two years now. Something about a top-secret mission.”
I try to contain my curiosity, but I can't help wanting to know more. Maybe I'll use this opportunity to make a move on him if everyone else is excited about his return. He must be someone important or unique.
Gianna narrows her eyes suspiciously. “You’re too curious for someone who doesn’t have any interest in dating.”
