Chapter 22 The Question
The visits became routine.
Every Saturday, the girls packed their bags. Every Saturday, Damian opened his door. The children ran through the house as if they owned it. The yellow room filled with toys and drawings. The paper stars caught the afternoon light.
I watched it all from the edges, learning to belong.
On the third Saturday, Damian asked me to stay the night.
The children were asleep. Leo had claimed the couch. Max had curled up on a beanbag. Lily and Rose were in the yellow room, their breathing soft through the monitor.
We sat on the porch, the same place we always ended up.
“You could stay,” he said. “There’s room. The guest room is made up.”
I looked at him. “I don’t have clothes.”
“I have a washing machine.”
“Damian…”
“I’m not asking for anything.” His voice was gentle. “I just don’t want you to drive home alone in the dark.”
I thought about it. The empty apartment. Rosa, who had the night off. The silence that would greet me.
“Okay,” I said. “One night.”
His smile was small but bright. “One night.”
The guest room was at the end of the hall, far from the children’s rooms. Damian had left fresh towels on the bed, a glass of water on the nightstand. A small vase of flowers from the garden.
I stood in the doorway, overwhelmed.
“Too much?” he asked.
“No.” I touched a flower petal. “It’s perfect.”
He nodded and stepped back. “Goodnight, Ava.”
“Goodnight.”
He walked away, and I closed the door.
I did not sleep.
The bed was comfortable, the room quiet. But my mind would not stop turning. I was in Damian’s house. Our children were down the hall. The man I had loved, lost, and found again was sleeping under the same roof.
It was terrifying. It was also exactly where I wanted to be.
At two in the morning, I heard footsteps.
I sat up, my heart racing. The door creaked open. A small figure stood in the doorway.
“Mommy?”
Rose. She was holding her stuffed rabbit, her hair tangled from sleep.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I woke up. I didn’t know where you were.”
I opened my arms. She climbed onto the bed, curling against my side.
“I’m here,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then: “Are you going to marry Daddy?”
The question landed like a stone in still water.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because Leo said his daddy needs a wife. And Max said you’re here all the time. And Lily said she wants to live in the yellow room forever.”
I stroked her hair. “Those are a lot of reasons.”
“Is it true?”
I thought about the key in my pocket. The red door. The future I had been too afraid to imagine.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”
Rose accepted this with a nod. She closed her eyes, her breathing evening out.
I lay awake, her question echoing in the dark.
In the morning, I woke to the smell of pancakes.
Rose was gone, her spot on the bed still warm. I walked downstairs to find the kitchen full of children. Lily was helping Damian flip pancakes. Leo was setting the table. Max was feeding the dog under the table. Rose sat at the counter, watching.
Damian looked up when I walked in. “You’re up.”
“I’m up.”
He slid a plate toward me. “Eat.”
I sat beside Rose. She leaned into me, her head on my shoulder.
“Did you sleep well?” Damian asked.
“Eventually.”
He raised an eyebrow but did not ask.
After breakfast, the children went outside. I stayed in the kitchen, helping Damian clean up.
“Rose came to find me last night,” I said.
He paused, his hands in the sink. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. She asked if we were getting married.”
Damian turned off the water. He dried his hands slowly, his back to me.
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I didn’t know.”
He turned to face me. “And what do you want?”
The question hung between us, heavy and hopeful.
“I want to stop being afraid,” I said. “I want to trust that this is real. I want to wake up and not wonder if today is the day you change your mind.”
He crossed the kitchen, stopping in front of me. “I’m not going to change my mind.”
“You say that.”
“I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.” He took my hands. “Ava, I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I was too stupid to see it before. I’m not making that mistake again.”
I stared at him. “You love me.”
“I’ve always loved you. I just didn’t know how to show it.”
I thought of the years we had lost. The pain. The silence. The fear that had kept us apart.
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know.” He pulled me into his arms. “But you don’t have to be scared alone anymore.”
I pressed my face to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Steady. Warm. Real.
“I love you too,” I said. “I never stopped.”
His arms tightened around me. We stood like that, holding each other, while the children laughed outside and the sun filled the kitchen.
Later, I sat on the porch with Rose. She was drawing, her tongue between her teeth.
“Rose,” I said.
She looked up.
“You asked about Daddy and me. About getting married.”
She waited.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I want you to know that whatever happens, we’re a family. You, me, Lily, Daddy, Leo, Max. All of us.”
Rose considered this. “Does that mean we can keep the yellow room?”
I laughed. “Yes. You can keep the yellow room.”
“Good.” She went back to her drawing.
I leaned back in my chair, watching the children run through the grass. Damian came out with lemonade, handing me a glass.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I looked at him. At the man I had loved, lost, and found again. At the father of my children. In the future, I had been too afraid to imagine.
“I’m thinking,” I said, “that maybe we should stop being afraid.”
He sat beside me, his shoulder against mine. “Maybe we should.”
We watched the children play. The sun was warm, the sky clear. And for the fi
rst time in five years, I let myself believe that we could have everything we had lost.
And maybe, just maybe, something even better.