Page 109 of A Sinful Gravity

Laila was on his back, little hands yanking his hair, shrieking with joy. "Giddyup! Horsey! Faster!"

"Laila, the 'horsey' has done three laps already. Can't he take a water break?" Cassian was begging for mercy, but his face showed a relaxed indulgence I'd never seen before. He turned his head and spotted me. Those usually icy blue eyes sparked to life.

"Luna, you're back. How was rehearsal?" He spoke while expertly lifting Laila off his back by her bottom.

Laila launched herself at me like a little cannonball, babbling. "Mommy! Cassian told me The Wizard of Oz, but he was terrible! He said Oz was a multinational trading conglomerate!"

Cassian rubbed his nose, standing up with some awkwardness, wiping his hands on his dress pants. "I just wanted to give her a head start on understanding how the world works."

I watched their easy interaction, something sharp lodged in my throat. Couldn't swallow it, couldn't spit it out.

Laila's dependence on him had reached alarming levels.

Over the next few days, I started noticing things I'd missed before.

Bedtime stories used to be our time—mine and Laila's. Since she was a few months old.

But now she started asking for Cassian. The first time I heard her say "I want Cassian tonight," my heart skipped. Pulse kicked up.

Cassian was nervous at first. He held the picture book like he was chairing a board meeting, voice stiff.

Laila listened to a few pages, rolled over, propped her chin on her hands, looking completely unimpressed. "Cassian, you're so boring."

He froze, expression like a student called out by the teacher. Then he smiled, leaning toward Laila.

"Then you teach me how to do it?" He handed her the book.

Laila sat up, took the book, flipped to the first page.

She started reading in that sweet, cute voice only kids have. "Once upon a time, there was a castle. In the castle lived a little princess..."

She read a line, paused, cocked her head to check if he was paying attention.

Cassian sat beside her, hands on his knees, leaning forward slightly, nodding seriously, occasionally asking "and then what?"

"Did you learn it?" she asked after finishing a page.

"I learned it," he answered solemnly.

"Then you tell it."

He told it. Better than the first try—his tone had variation, he even mimicked character voices. Still clumsy, but at least he wasn't reading a report anymore.

Laila listened, nodded with satisfaction, patted the covers. "Not bad. Keep trying next time."

"Yes, Teacher Laila," he said seriously.

She giggled and burrowed under the covers, closing her eyes. Cassian tucked in the corners, placed her teddy bear by her pillow.

Then he patted her back gently, carefully, like he was caring for something precious.

I stood in the doorway, watching his back.

This man. This man who didn't like kids. Who couldn't even use a hair tie before—now he could braid Laila's hair without thinking. Could sit on the floor playing pretend with her all afternoon.

He'd really changed.

And Laila depended on him more and more.