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Rendal
Iwake up with a start, the weight on my chest feeling like a physical presence. The memories of yesterday flood back, and I groan, rubbing my face with my hands. Chloe's hurt expression, Valeria's smug smile, and Zola's oblivious joy all swirl in my mind.
Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. The clock reads 6:30 AM, but I know sleep won't come again. I need to fix this mess.
As I shuffle to the kitchen to make coffee, I can't help but think of Zola. My little girl, caught in the middle of this adult drama. She loves having both her parents around, and I can't fault her for that. But at what cost?
The coffee maker gurgles, and I lean against the counter, lost in thought. Valeria's words echo in my head."Zola's been asking when we're all going to be together again."It's a low blow, using our daughter like that.
But then there's Chloe. Sweet, patient Chloe, who's been nothing but understanding through all of this. I remember her words from last night."I don't know how much more I can takeof Valeria being around all the time."The pain in her voice was unmistakable.
I take a sip of my coffee, grimacing at the bitterness. Or maybe it's just the situation leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I know I need to talk to Valeria, set some boundaries. But the thought of that conversation fills me with dread. Valeria's never been one to back down easily.
My phone buzzes, and I see a text from Chloe.
“Hope you slept well. Thinking of you.”
A small smile tugs at my lips, but it's quickly replaced by determination. I can't let this continue. For Chloe's sake, for Zola's sake, and for my own sanity, I need to confront Valeria.
I finish my coffee and head to the shower, my mind racing with how to approach this delicate situation. As the water washes over me, I try to find the right words, the right approach. But deep down, I know there's no easy way out of this.
I just finished getting dressed when I hear the familiar knock on the door and my stomach tightens. It's Valeria, here to pick up Zola. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the interaction ahead.
"Zola, sweetie, your mom's here!" I call out, forcing a cheerful tone. I open the door to find Valeria standing there, a practiced smile on her face.
"Hey, Rendal," she says, her voice soft and familiar. "How's our little girl doing?"
Before I can answer, Zola comes bounding down the hallway. "Mommy!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around Valeria's legs.
"Hey, baby," Valeria coos. "Go grab your things, okay? Mommy needs to talk to Daddy for a minute."
As Zola scampers off to her room, Valeria turns her attention back to me. Her eyes soften, and I feel the familiar tug of our shared history.
"Remember when we used to do this together?" she asks, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "Getting Zola ready, I mean. We were quite the team."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Valeria takes this as encouragement and continues.
"You know, Zola seems so much happier when we're together," she says, her eyes never leaving mine. "She lights up when she sees us in the same room. Don't you think that means something?"
I feel the weight of her words, the implied accusation. Am I depriving my daughter of happiness by not being with her mother? The thought makes my chest tighten.
"I just want what's best for Zola," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. "That's all that matters."
Valeria's face lights up at my response, and I can see the satisfaction in her eyes. She thinks she's won this round, and maybe she has. But as I watch her smile, all I can think about is Chloe and the pain this will cause her.
Zola returns with her backpack, and after a quick goodbye, they're gone. The house falls silent, eerily so. I sink onto the couch, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.
My eyes fall on a framed photo on the coffee table. It's of Zola and Valeria, taken during happier times. They're both laughing, their faces alight with joy. I pick it up, running my thumb over the glass.
Is this what's best for Zola? To have her parents together, to give her that complete family she deserves? The thought of making my little girl happy is tempting, so tempting it hurts.
But then I think of Chloe. Chloe, who's brought so much light into my life. The thought of losing her, of giving up the happiness we share, makes my chest tighten with anxiety. I set the photo down, my hand shaking slightly.
I stare at my phone, watching it vibrate on my desk. Chloe's name flashes on the screen, and my stomach twists into knots. I let it ring, telling myself I'm too busy with work to answer. The call ends, and a text message pops up moments later.
“Hey, haven't heard from you in a while. Everything okay?”
I swallow hard, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I type out a quick response, hating myself for the lie.
