Chapter Fourty Six

Kyla

The slam of the door echoes long after Jake is gone.

I stand in the middle of the kitchen, frozen, my chest tight and my throat aching. The hum of the refrigerator is the only sound left inside the house. Outside, the kids’ laughter has faded too they must be at the porch with him.

My legs feel like lead as I force myself forward. I need to be ready. I need to have the right words when they come back in.

Because they will have questions.

And how do I explain to two little hearts that the man they have already started to look at with so much hope isn’t staying? That he has somewhere else he calls home, someone else he calls family?

The door creaks open, and Chanel and Elias tumble in, cheeks flushed, hair wild from running. They’re glowing, full of the kind of joy only children can carry without effort.

“Mommy!” Elias shouts, holding up a leaf he must’ve picked up. “Look what I found!”

I smile weakly, crouching down to admire it. “That is beautiful, baby.”

Chanel slips her hand into mine, her eyes bright. “Jake said he has to go somewhere. But he will be back, right?”

The question hits me like a fist to the stomach.

I brush a stray curl from her forehead, buying myself a second to breathe. “Yes, sweetheart,” I say softly. “He will be back.”

It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the truth either. It’s the only answer I can manage without breaking.

Elias bounces on his toes, his excitement unshaken. “Where did he go? Did he go to buy us toys? Or candy?”

Chanel giggles, but when her laughter dies, she peers at me, her face suddenly more serious than a five year old’s should be. “Mommy, why didn’t he take us with him?”

I inhale sharply. There it is. The question I was dreading.

I lift her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her, pulling Elias close with my other hand. Their warmth steadies me just enough to find words, though every one of them feels like stepping barefoot across glass.

“Jake, he had to go home,” I murmur, stroking Chanel’s hair, smoothing Elias’s shirt where it’s rumpled from play. “He has someone waiting for him. A little boy, just like you, Elias.”

Elias blinks up at me, confused. “He has another kid?”

The ache in my chest deepens. “Yes, baby. He does. And that little boy needed him tonight.”

Chanel’s brow furrows, her tiny voice trembling. “But we need him too mommy.”

God.

Her words crack me open completely. Tears burn my eyes, and I press my lips to her hair, hoping she won’t notice how much I’m shaking.

“I know, sweetheart. I know you do.” My voice breaks despite me. “And he will come back when he can. But right now, his son was scared, and Jake had to be there to make him feel safe.”

Elias tilts his head. “Like when we have nightmares and you come sit with us?”

“Yes,” I whisper, my throat tight. “Exactly like that.”

They go quiet for a moment, and in the silence, I can hear my own heart breaking.

Because they don’t understand yet. They can’t. To them, the world is simple: someone loves you, or they don’t. Someone stays, or they leave. There is no in between. No half promises. No years of silence and buried secrets.

But I understand. Too well.

I tighten my hold on them, as if I can shield them from the ache that’s already beginning to seep in.

Chanel finally lifts her head, her eyes watery but brave. “Will he come back tomorrow?”

I can’t say yes. I can’t say no. So I press her against my chest and whisper, “We will see, baby. We will see.”

Elias yawns, already losing focus, his small hand clutching the leaf like it’s treasure. Childhood has blessed him with short memories he willl forget this sting soon enough. But Chanel, she feels things deeply, just like I did at her age.

And it terrifies me.

Because if Jake keeps drifting in and out, if he keeps giving them just enough to hope and then taking it away, she will carry that hurt the way I did. She will learn too early what it feels like to want someone who doesn’t stay.

The thought makes me sick.

I kiss both their heads, forcing myself to smile, even through the tears that slip down my cheeks. “How about we go find a movie? Something funny. Something with singing animals.”

Elias perks up immediately, clapping his hands. Chanel nods, though her little shoulders slump against me.

I set them down gently and watch them scurry toward the living room, their small voices already arguing over which movie to pick. Their resilience amazes me, but it also breaks me.

Because no matter how strong they are, no matter how much I try to fill the gaps, I know they’ll still feel it the absence, the questions, the longing.

And I don’t know how much longer I can protect them from the truth.

Behind me, the house is too quiet. Jake’s coffee cup still sits on the counter, his jacket draped over the chair. For a moment, it almost feels like he’s still here.

But he isn’t.

He chose. And even though a part of me understands, even though I would never take a father from his child, that doesn’t dull the sting.

Because every time he says “my family,” every time he says “my son,” it reminds me of the one truth I can’t escape.

No matter how much I want it, I will never be enough to be part of that world.

And my children, their laughter, their love, their existence will never be enough for him to stay.

But maybe I needed to give them a chance to know him, to know who their father is, and I needed to tell him the truth.