her. She takes three and starts munching on them immediately.
“Your apartment smells nice. Can I come in?” she asks, smiling sweetly at me.
“Of course, honey. I just made some dinner and I was hoping you would join me for it.”
“Oh, can I? Daddy? Please?” She turns to me again. “Can Daddy come too?”
“Of course he can if he wants to. There’s enough for all of us,” I say and put an arm around Anya to lead her in. I haven’t given Trevor a chance to protest or deny the plan.
He follows us into the apartment, and I’m trying hard not to meet his eyes. Anya exclaims gleefully when she sees the big roasted chicken in the middle of the dining table.
“That looks beautiful! I love chicken!” she declares, running up to the table to stare at the food.
“We had plans for dinner already,” Trevor says in an irritable voice, and I turn to him with a smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. I’m sure Anya will understand when you take her away. I can cook for her another night,” I reply.
We both glance at Anya, who is now reaching up to touch the chicken. She is very visibly delighted, and I know, as an adoring father, Trevor will not deny his daughter this evening of excitement.
When I look at him again, he has his jaw clenched.
“Of course, you are her father, and you should decide how Anya will spend her evening,” I say and then return to help her up in her chair. I know they’re not going anywhere.
The dinner has gone smoothly so far, and it’s all because of Anya’s presence. She has forced us into behaving ourselves, even though we keep throwing darting looks at each other.
Anya is talking animatedly, and I have to say, she is in a pretty good mood today. More excited than I have ever seen her before. She wants to tell us everything she can think of about school and the playground.
We eat dinner, and then I bring out hot chocolate with marshmallows for each of us. Anya even helps me load the dishwasher and we make up a little song-and-dance as we do it that makes her clutch her belly with laughter.
Nobody has to explicitly mention it for me to guess that she has had some trouble getting over the death of her mother. I’m delighted to see her happy.
After the dishwasher and the hot chocolate, Anya wants a few more cookies, and Trevor puts his foot down this time and lifts her up in his arms.
“We need to put a stop to this before you’re awake the whole night hopped up on sugar,” he says. Even though he is being firm with her, I detect the hint of playfulness in his voice. “You should thank Blaire, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Anya waves at me and thanks me. I blow her a kiss and promise we will do it again sometime soon.
I walk with them to the door, and Trevor throws me a look over his shoulder.
He may have got me in the morning. Got me by surprise. Made a fool of me.
But I feel like I have redeemed myself now. I’ve shown him he is not the boss of everything, and he most certainly doesn’t control everything. He can make fun of me if he likes, he can even force me to sell this apartment and move away, but he will know—I have formed a relationship with Anya. His daughter is in love with me. He will never be able to play my role in her life.
I feel victorious in the end.
Anya and I blow kisses to each other as he takes her into their apartment.
I wait a few beats before shutting the door. I realize I have a smile on my face.
When I turn and look around my apartment, all of a sudden, it feels very empty. Just minutes ago, Anya’s happy laughter filled the room. We were playing, singing, talking, and now I’m back to being alone.
I guess before Anya came into my life, I never really realized that I’ve been yearning for a family of my own all along.
I don’t even know how to get started with that. Don’t I need to find a man first?
It’s late. I’ve changed into my shorts and oversized t-shirt again. My makeup is off. My nightly skincare routine is done and my hair has been tied in a messy braid.