The Stepdad affair

KOHEN

I close the door to Tara's room softly. I rub my forehead and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. As soon as I enter the room, Kristina looks up at me.

"How is she?" She asks, but I can tell she's been crying.

"Sleeping." I answer as I simply lean against the door frame with my arms crossed.

Kristina sighs and runs her hands through her hair. "I didn't mean to upset her. I just... I wanted to clear the air and hoped we'd be okay for her birthday party."

"What?" I ask, stunned. "You're throwing her a birthday party?"

"Nothing big, just a little celebration." She says.

"Jesus Kris. Tara doesn't celebrate her birthday." I say, trying to take a deep breath.

"What?"

I shake my head. "Don't you remember herfirst birthday here? She said she doesn't like celebrating her birthday."

"I know. I just thought she might have grown out of it." She says.

"Kristina, her father died the day before her birthday. It's not up to us to decide when she chooses to celebrate." I say to her.

"It's been five years. I just want us to get along.... I know I did something horrible, but I'm trying."

"Is that why you asked her to come?" I ask. "To rid yourself of the guilt?"

Kristina looks at me, and I can tell she's pissed from the look she gives me.

"Since when do you talk to me like that?" She asks.

I throw my hands in the air. "She's your daughter Kris. Handle it however you want, but your daughter just had a panic attack from just talking to you."

She shakes her head angrily and grabs her car keys. "I'm going for a drive." She mumbled, and I brushed past me.

Kristina and I don't fight. Mostly becausethere is nothing to fight about. I never force her to stay or yell at her. She leaves and comes back. Or she locks herself in the room.

I am fine with that.

Later that night....

The scent of garlic and tomatoes wafted through the air, mingling with the savory aroma of the browning minced meat.

I was standing over the stove, stirring the rich, simmering sauce, the warmth of the flames reflected in my eyes. The sizzle of the pan was the only sound breaking the comfortable silence of the house. My thoughts were tangled, like the spaghetti boiling away in the pot next to me.

Suddenly, a soft thud from the staircase jolted me from my reverie. I looked up to see my sleepy stepdaughter coming down the stairs. She had just woken up from her nap, her eyes still glazed with sleep and her usually neat hair a wild, auburn mess.

Her hair was an explosion of curls, a chaotic halo around her sleepy face. She looked like she'd been wrestling with her pillow and lost. I couldn't help but chuckle.A smile crept onto my face as I teased, "Looks like a tornado decided to have a dance party on your head."

She blinked at me, her groggy eyes coming into focus. A light blush spread across her cheeks, and she self-consciously ran a hand through her unruly locks.

"Shut up, Kohen," she grumbled, but there was a playful lilt in her voice that made my heart ache.

I turned back to the stove, shaking the pan to stir the meat. "Guess what I'm making?" I asked, grinning over my shoulder at her.

She yawned, padding over to the counter to lean against it. "I don't know. What's are you making?"

"Spaghetti. With minced meat and tomato sauce," I said, proud of my culinary efforts.

She blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you could cook," she admitted, her eyes shining with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

I chuckled, stirring the sauce with a wooden spoon. "Well, I have a few tricks up my sleeve."Tara crossed her arms, leaning in closer as if inspecting my cooking process. "You should teach me. I'm hopeless in the kitchen."

I grinned, feeling a surge of warmth. "Sure, I'd be happy to show you. Cooking can be pretty therapeutic, you know?"

She nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I could use some therapy right about now."

I turned off the stove and gestured for her to join me at the table. "Sit down, kid.

Dinner will be ready in no time."

"I'm not a kid."

"I know." I answer.

She's silent for a while.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about earlier." She says.

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you're feeling better."

When the food was finally ready, I served her a generous portion, watching as she took her first bite. Her eyes widened, and she looked up at me with surprise."This is really good," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.

"I'm glad you like it. Maybe we can cook together more often." I suggest.

Tara nodded, a warm smile gracing her face. "I'd burn your house down."

"I'll buy another."

Kristina walks into the kitchen and places her keys down on the counter.

"Tara." She says.

Tara sighed and turned to her mother. "I'm not going to apologize for what I said." She says calmly. "I don't forgive you. But I'm willing to tolerate you for the rest of summer."

Kristina sighs. "Okay. Can we at least be on speaking terms?"

"You're free to speak." Tara says and begins eating.

Kristina smiles and sits down. "Is there anything you want to do for your birthday next week?"

Tara tenses up, and so do I.God, please. Not another fight.

"I don't celebrate my birthday." Tara tells her.

"I know, but I just thought we could have a girls' day or something." Kristina presses.

"I said no." Tara says firmly and gets up from the table with her food.

Kristina sighs, and I continue eating without another word.

I have nothing to say,

~☆~

Continue..soon