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I shudder just thinking about it. “I will.”
It’s five o’clock in the morning, I’m still wide awake. It’s surprising how, for the first time since I’ve been back, it’s something other than my nightmares making it hard for me to sleep. It’s thoughts of me, Anya, Kira and Alessa as one big family that are keeping me up.
Just a few months ago, I didn’t think a day would come when I would dare dream of anything other than the horror on that battlefield. But now I want more; I want to be a better person, a better father, and a better man.
I need to clear my thoughts, so I get dressed in sweatpants and a shirt. As I lace up my running shoes, I can hear the birds starting to chirp outside. The cool air nips at my cheeks as I step out onto the quiet street. The only light comes from the dim glow of the streetlamps, casting shadows across the pavement. The trees sway gently in the soft breeze, their leaves rustling like whispers in my ear.
I run for all of twenty minutes until I’m outside Anya’s house. I intend to stand here for a moment and just watch the door when I hear Kira’s cry.
It’s early and Anya will be shocked to see me, but I climb up the front porch and knock anyway. I need to know if everything is alright or if she needs my help. I watched Alessa grow, and I know better than anyone how hard it is to raise a child alone.
Kira’s cry dies down, but no one answers the door. I figure Anya wouldn’t just open up when she has no idea who is standing outside.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send her a text. Hi, I’m outside your door. Brandon.
The message ticks read, then Anya starts to type. What are you doing outside this early?
Jogging. Can you please let me in?
A minute passes before the door creaks open. Anya comes outside, holding Kira in one arm. Anya’s hair is up in a messy bun, her face creased with exhaustion. The circles under her eyes are as dark as Kira’s hair—my hair. “Is everything okay?” She smiles at me.
I nod, dragging my attention to Kira. “I was out for a jog, then I heard her cry. Is she okay?”
“She has a fever, but she’ll be fine.” Anya covers her mouth with her free hand as she yawns. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“I’m worried, for Kira and for you.”
She lifts a brow.
“You’re tired. Let me take care of her so you can catch enough sleep,” I offer. As much as I want to be fully part of their lives, I don’t want to push it and make Anya uncomfortable.
She thinks for a while, hesitating.
“I’ll be here to keep a close eye on her,” I assure them. “I looked after Alessa, so you can trust me to take good care of Kira.”
“It’s not that I doubt your ability to do it well, I just don’t want to inconvenience you,” Anya exhales heavily. “She requires constant attention.”
“You’re not a bother, Anya, and neither is Kira. I’m her father. You shouldn’t try to do everything yourself.”
“Actually, I’ve mainly been alone up until this point.” She cuts herself off before saying anything else. “I apologize, that was uncalled for. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment.”
I nod in understanding, “No need to apologize.”
She gestures for me to enter and moves out of the doorway.
As soon as I’m inside, Kira reaches for me, spreading her arms for me to carry her. She hasn’t known me for long, but I feel as if she somehow knows I’m her father. It warms my heart and makes me feel even more driven to be the best dad for her.
I take Kira from Anya and she nestles comfortably in my arms, her small fingers grasping at my shirt. “You’re warm,” I say with a smile. “Do you like it when Dada holds you?”
She giggles. Her pronunciation isn’t good yet, but I understand it when she says, “Yes.”
“She likes it when she’s held close,” Anya explains, her voice soft like a lullaby. She’s staring at me and Kira like we’re the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. I recognize that look, because it was the same way I looked at her when I found out Kira was mine. “Thank you for this, for helping.”
“It’s no problem. I want to be here for both of you.” And as I hold my daughter close, feeling her steady breath against my chest, I know that this is where I belong. This is the family I want to protect.
Anya hands me a plastic teaspoon and a bottle of syrup. She suggests that I give it to her for the fever. Before she can offer, I cut her off. It's like being an enthusiastic teenager trying something new for the first time, except this isn't my first time. Raising Alessa has given me plenty of practice.
I take the spoon from Anya and move to sit on a kitchen chair. I place Kira on my leg, pinning her body against mine to stop her from struggling. “Say ahh.”
