Page 34 of Grumpy Orc Daddy
I hear footsteps, and then Janta is there, his presence pulling me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. He sits beside me on the couch, not too close, but close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him. He doesn't speak right away, giving me a moment to collect myself.
"Rayna," he finally says, his voice gentle, aware of the turmoil I'm feeling.
"I know this is scary. I feel it too. But I also believe in us—what we could be together. I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't think it was worth the risk."
His words hang in the air, sincere and heartfelt. I look into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but find none. There's only earnest hope and a quiet strength that reassures me more than I expected.
"Janta, I'm scared," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "Not just for us, but for Lily. She’s everything to me."
"I know," he replies, reaching for my hand. "She's everything to me too. Whatever we do, we do with her best interests at heart. We tread carefully, we go slow. We will make sure this is right."
The kiss had felt so right in the moment. But now as Janta stands before me, every one of my fears comes creeping back in.
CHAPTER 21
Janta
After the kiss we shared, Rayna pulls back. I feel a pang of hurt as her demeanor becomes guarded and I try to rationalize her need for space. Space that is getting increasingly harder to put between us. I know she needs time to sort through her own emotions, though every part of me is screaming to wrap her in my arms and kiss away every ounce of confusion.
Tonight, I can see in her eyes that she's overwhelmed as she sits on the other end of the couch, the silence that becomes our new normal between us rings loudly.
I catch her watching me before she quickly looks away, avoiding meeting my eyes.
"Hey, it's okay. I understand," I say, though it pains me. Rayna answers with a subtle nod, her lips pursed as if she's fighting back tears.
She gets up and heads to the room, leaving me here with unresolved feelings.
Her departure stirs a feeling of frustration within me, as well as a longing. I know that we’d be good together if she could just let her guard down and let me in, even just a little bit.
Why do humans have to be so difficult?
As Rayna disappears into the room, the weight of the moment settles heavily on my shoulders. I exhale slowly, pushing down the disappointment and concern.
"Focus on Lily," I whisper to myself, a mantra to guide my unsettled heart.
I go back into Lily’s room, just to see her once more before I go home and go to sleep. Her long lashes brush her chubby cheeks as she sleeps soundly. My heart flutters at the sight of her. As much as things between Rayna and I have grown confusing, Lily is the one thing that I am certain about.
The next morning, I wake up early, determined to make the day special for Lily. I prepare her pancakes shaped like little stars, topped with a generous sprinkle of powdered sugar and slices of fresh strawberries. I’m not actually sure if she can eat pancakes, but I’m determined to get this dad shit down. Rayna stays out of the way, letting me take charge of the day. I meant it when I told myself I’d honor her need for space.
Lily lets out a cry from her room, letting us know she’s awake, and I head in there to get her ready for the day. Her chubby hands reach for me as she coos and gurgles, cementing the deep-rooted love that has only been growing ever since Rayna told me about her.
That day is fresh in my mind, and I take comfort in how far we’ve come. Rayna’s distance is just another bridge we’re going to have to cross together, and I’m determined to help her see that I’m invested in her just as much as I am in Lily. No matter how unconventional, we’re still a family.
“Let’s get daddy’s girl some breakfast,” I coo at Lily, unable to help the unconscious stream of baby talk that surfaces whenever I’m around her.
After making sure Lily is dressed and fed, I glance towards Rayna's room, hesitating at the doorway. The memory of our brief, recent kiss lingers vividly in my mind. Her room is quiet, and as I peek inside, I find her staring out the window, lost in thought. The air feels thick with all the things left unsaid between us.
Clearing my throat gently, I lean against the doorframe. "Hey," I start, my voice more hesitant than I intend. "I was thinking of going to the park with Lily. Do you want to come?"
I hold my breath, waiting. Despite the turmoil, the distance that has crept into our relationship, I hope she'll see this as an olive branch, a small step toward whatever might still be possible between us.
Rayna turns from the window, and for a moment, she just looks at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small, unsure smile forms on her lips. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Let me just grab my things."
Relief washes over me. She said yes. It's a simple word, but it carries the weight of so many possibilities. As she passes by to get ready, there's a faint, familiar scent of her perfume, a reminder of closeness we once took for granted. I step back into the hallway, giving her space, while inside, my heart starts to beat with a cautious optimism.
We spend the day at the local park. I push Lily on the swings, higher and higher as she squeals with joy. Later, we sit on a blanket, and I read her favorite stories, doing all the voices that make her burst into peals of laughter. Watching her so carefree, so utterly happy, reaffirms my resolve. This is what matters. This is what I need to focus on.
I catch Rayna watching us from a distance, a soft, contemplative smile on her face. It gives me hope that she's starting to see that we can make this work—that we can be a family, not just in moments, but always.