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“I'm not sorry.” I scratch Brano behind the ears and turn my attention to Alessa. “What's going on with him?”
She leans closer to me and whispers, “Nothing really. I just wanted to see you and used Bran0 as an excuse to convince Daddy to bring me here.”
“So you tricked him?” I respond in a hushed tone.
She nods, putting a finger to her lips. “Shh, don't tell him our little secret.”
I hold out my pinky finger. “I won’t. I promise.”
She crosses her own pinky finger with mine. “You can’t break your promise.”
“We share a secret, which means we’re friends. Friends don’t break their promises to each other.”
A warm grin spreads across Alessa's face, making her look even more adorable than usual. Her eyes crinkle and her golden hair catches the sunlight streaming in through the glass walls, giving off a radiant glow.
Kira gurgles behind me, catching Alessa's attention. Her eyes widen. "Is that a baby?"
"She's fourteen months old, practically a toddler," I reply, watching as Alessa rushes over to Kira and gently cups her cheeks in both hands.
"Oh my goodness." Alessa turns to me with excitement in her voice. "She's absolutely beautiful."
I can sense from Alessa's reaction that she has instantly fallen in love with Kira. And even Kira seems to be happy in her presence, smiling and reaching for her face. I almost tell Alessa that Kira is her younger sister, but I can't bring myself to do it until I have the courage to break the news to Brandon.
As I study him, I notice the shock etched onto his face. His gaze is fixed on Kira, and I silently hope he doesn't see the similarity between them.
"Wait," He spins around to face me, surprised, "You have a daughter?"
"So do you," I retort, crossing my arms. "Is that a problem?"
"No, it's just..." He pauses and meets my eyes with his dark brown ones. The tension between us is tangible, and his disappointment is evident in his expression. His gaze drifts down to my hands. "Are you currently with someone? Married, perhaps?"
"Would that change things if I wasn't?" I tease with a smirk.
"I can't say it would." He shakes his head slightly. "I'm just surprised you have a child."
He looks back at Kira - his daughter. After a moment of hesitation, he continues to inquire: "How old is she?"
"She's a year and two months," I reply.
He scratches the back of his neck. "Do I know her father?"
The hairs at the back of my neck rise. Maybe it’s the perfect opportunity to tell him the truth, but I’m not ready to face him. I’m not ready for what will happen if he decides he doesn’t want to be a part of Kira’s life. I’m not emotionally mature enough to leave him alone. I’ll probably torment him forever if he dares to do that.
I raise an eyebrow and nervously chew on my bottom lip. "Why are you so interested?"
"Apologies if it is an inappropriate question." he replies.
"I don't know why you're asking and honestly, I don't think it's any of your business." Guilt creeps up within me for not telling him the truth, but some things are better left unsaid. I'll figure it out eventually, just not today.
He slowly closes the gap between us, his steps deliberate and controlled. I can feel the intensity in his eyes - they are dark and soulless, lacking the warmth and spark they once held.
Something tells me there's more to why he left me the way he did. What secrets is he hiding behind that stoic expression? As he stands before me now, I realize how much he has changed since the time we first met. The playful glint in his eyes has been replaced with a somberness that weighs heavily on my heart.
I can sense that he's holding back, a wall built up around him to shield himself from any emotion or vulnerability. This is not the Brandon I fell for two years ago in that bar - confident, charming, and unafraid to go after what he wanted. But as I stand here faced with the reality of our reunion, I can't help but wonder what could have caused such a drastic change.
Despite my curiosity and desire to know the truth, my emotions are clouding my judgement and I am unable to ask the important questions. All I can do is stand there silently, wishing for things to be different and longing for the answers that may never come.
“Anya, I didn’t leave because I wanted to.” He lowers voices, his throat bobs as he swallows. “That morning, I got a deployment text. I needed to leave.”
