Nobody moves. Chesca's mouth opens, and then closes. Her fingers tighten on Aaron Bear's paw. I can see her working through it, and a hundred directions this could go depending on what happens next.
My arm is still around Angelina. I don't move. Don't pull away. Don't pretend we're something we're not.
"Good morning, piccola." Angelina keeps her voice calm and steady, as if this is normal, as if her daughter didn't just discover something that changes everything. "Did you sleep okay?
Chesca's gaze flicks between us. Her brow furrows in the same expression she makes over difficult math problems.
"Is Cole your boyfriend now?"
My hand tightens on Angelina's hip. Not answering for her. Waiting.
"Yes." She says the word more easily than I expected, and something loosens in my chest at hearing her say it. "He is."
She said it. Out loud. Didn't hesitate, didn't soften it into something easier to explain away.
Chesca considers this for a long moment. Her fingers twist in Aaron Bear's fur, a nervous habit she's had since she was four. I know because I've watched. Seven years of watching from a distance, and now I'm here in her mother's bed while she decides what to make of me.
"Is he going to live here?"
"We're figuring that out."
Another pause. "Does he make you happy?"
The question hits somewhere behind my ribs.Does he make you happy?Notdo you love himorare you getting marriedor any of the questions I'd expect from an eight-year-old.Just,does he make you happy?Like that's the only thing that matters.
"Yes, bambina." Angelina's voice catches. "He does."
Chesca nods slowly. Then she walks toward the bed without hesitating or asking permission and climbs up onto the mattress. She settles herself between us with the absolute certainty of a child who knows she belongs exactly where she is.
"Good." She tucks Aaron Bear under her chin. "You should be happy, Mamma."
My eyes meet Angelina's over her daughter's head. The softness in her expression undoes something I've kept locked for years. The tension I carry like armor dissolves, just for this moment. I feel like I've been given something I never expected to deserve.
"Bambina." Angelina brushes hair from Chesca's forehead. "There's something I need to tell you."
Chesca's shoulders draw up. She knows. Somehow, she already knows something's wrong. Too many hushed conversations and locked doors. Too many times her mother checked her phone and went pale.
"Is it the bad man?"
My stomach drops. "What bad man?"
"The one at the soccer game. The one who made Xander take me away so fast." She looks up at her mother with those brown eyes that are far too old for her face. "Xander said not to worry. But you worry. I can tell."
Xander told me not to worry.
I file that away. Later, I'll thank him for protecting her. And then I might kill him for not telling us Chesca had noticed.
"There's a man," Angelina says carefully, "who says he wants to be part of our family. But he's not a good man. And I don't want him near you."
"Who is he?"
My hand finds Angelina's behind Chesca's back. Our fingers lace together and I squeeze once, anchoring her.
"He's..." The word sticks in her throat. I can feel her fighting to say it. "He's your biological father."
Chesca goes still against her mother's chest.
"I don't have a father." Her voice is small but certain. "You said I didn't need one."