Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 81 - Chapitre 90

*Will* Within thirty minutes, we bid farewell to Cheryl at the door. She gathered all her photos and asked numerous questions, including a few directed at Frida. Cheryl warned us that we wouldn’t hear anything for a few weeks. For me, that's a relief… I can push the case from my mind. No action needed. For Kiera, it’s a source of fixation and worry that will consume her every hour of every day until she reaches out to us again. We all have our own coping mechanisms. Almost as soon as Cheryl leaves, Kiera lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why did I think wearing this blouse was a good idea?” She quickly pulls it off over her head and dashes away. Tina laughs as she follows her into the kitchen, while I finish getting Frida settled on the couch with her coloring books. Tina is staying through the evening because Kiera and I are being coerced by Candy to continue with Operation Roots. Tonight is date two, where I’ll join Kiera for dinner with another couple. I’m dreading it. I want to be

*Kiera* Two hours later, we stumble out of the elevator, nearly tripping each other as we try to kiss and walk at the same time. I’m a bit drunk, but I don’t care. Will has me in his arms. He’s kissing me, and I never want him to stop. This is what I have been dreaming off… the want, the need, not second guessing everything… and I am okay with the fact that it took some sake to get here. He backs me up against the door, my ass slamming into the doorknob, as he fumbles and drops his keys to the floor. “For helvede,” he mutters. Okay, maybe he’s a little tipsy too. By the end of the night, I lost track of how many times we had sake shots. Things really got out of hand when our waitress, Kiko, taught us a Japanese drinking song… but we had a blast and I am sure the photographer got some great shots. Will and I kissed all the way back to the apartment in the uber. Now his internal English translator seems to be not working as Well as usual. He mumbles something in Danish, looking for

*Kiera* Will kisses me again, but this one is different. There’s a new hunger in it. He wants to learn. He’s not just humoring me. His tongue finds mine and there is a desperation that wasn’t there before. A need to know. A need to please. My body lights up from my lips to my toes. The feeling is so intense, I almost combust from a kiss alone. He shifts, moving to lie over me, and I let him, spreading my legs to make room for him to settle between them. The rough fabric of my designer jeans scrapes against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, a torturous friction that has me arching my hips. “Patience,” he murmurs against my lips. “You taught me that.” I smile, but it’s strained. My patience is thin. My body is thrumming with a need that has been building for days. A week. Longer. I want his hands on me. His mouth. His cock, when he is ready. He leans back, kneeling between my legs, and just looks. His eyes are so dark, so intense. They roam over my body, from my face to my ch

*Kiera*“Did you have fun today, min lille mermaid?” I tuck Frida into bed with her stuffed animals, and she nods, her eyes bleary with fatigue.Will and I washed the rainbow tiger stripes from our faces as soon as we got home, but Frida cried when Will told her she had to wash off her glittery unicorn. With a gentle nudge from me, he relented. Our new deal is that Frida can wear her face paint to bed tonight, and we’ll wash it off in the morning. Also in the morning, she has to eat two eggs and take her vitamins without complaining. It feels like an even trade.“Are you leaving?” she murmurs.“I don’t have to. I can sit right here while you fall asleep. Want me to sing ‘Part of Your World’ again?”Her mouth turns down into that little pout I’ve come to love so much. She reaches for Teddy the Bear, wrapping her casted arm around him. “They said you’re leaving.”I’m distracted, fluffing her pillows. “Who said what, honey?”“A mommy. At the apples. She said you’re leaving.” She swallows

*Will* “I’m not mad,” I assure her, one hand on her thigh. Kiera raises a dark brow. “You’re not?” I shake my head, smiling with relief. “No, I’m glad.” It’s not as if I didn’t know. Anyone can see the way they are together… laughing and singing and making jokes. In those moments of play, she reminds me the most of Vera. They’re so different in personality in all other respects. But loving Frida brings out the best in both of them. Kiera is just the sort of joyous, fun-loving parent Frida deserves. I’ve been finding my own way into parenting, shifting from being the uncle she only saw on video calls and holidays to being a daily fixture in her life. Ours is a quieter kind of love, the love of stillness. Arms to hold her, words of comfort to share. She goes to Kiera when she wants to laugh and play. She comes to me when she’s tired, when she’s sad and grieving, when she needs the world to stop spinning quite so fast. Both kinds of love are worthwhile. And Frida deserve