Will you be my Daddy?
1125 Words
Tiffany's POV:
I widened my eyes at his remark, my gaze snapping to the hickey on his neck. My lips parted to say something, but before I could, my mother’s voice rang from inside the house.
“Tiffany, who’s at the door?” she called.
Aaron smirked, brushing past me as if he owned the place. “It’s me, Aunt Kat,” he replied casually, stepping inside.
I rolled my eyes and followed him, my annoyance simmering. Why was he here, anyway? My parents treated Aaron like he was their own son, doting on him endlessly. But I couldn’t understand him. Why was he spending Christmas here? Shouldn’t he be with his own family?
“These are the gifts I bought for all of you,” Aaron said, handing over a bag to my mother. “I know Christmas Eve is still four days away, but I couldn’t resist.”
My mother’s face lit up as she opened the bag, admiring his thoughtful presents. “Oh, Aaron, thank you so much! You’re always so generous,” she said warmly.
“Stay here, and I’ll bring you some hot coffee,” she added before heading to the kitchen, leaving me alone with him in the living room.
Aaron turned to me with a mischievous glint in his eye and held out a smaller bag. “This is for you,” he said.
I hesitated, eyeing the bag but not reaching for it. “By the way,” he continued, “where’s the Little Hero?”
“Umm… Caleb took my son out for some shopping,” I replied, my tone stiff. My hands stayed firmly by my sides, unwilling to accept the gift just yet.
Aaron leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “You don’t have to look so suspicious, Stiff. It’s just a gift, not a declaration of war.”
I huffed, crossing my arms. Stop calling me Stiff. I have a proper name,” I retorted at him.
Aaron took a step closer, his grip firm yet gentle as he placed the gift bag in my hand. “I’ll call you by my name if you kiss me,” he taunted, his eyes dancing with mischief. “And,” he added, taking a step back, “I want you to wear this on Christmas night. Don’t even think about skipping it, or you’ll be punished.”
“Will you stop that?” I hissed, lowering my voice so my mother wouldn’t hear. “I told you, it was a drunk mistake. I-I wasn’t in my right mind.”
Aaron’s smirk deepened, his confidence unwavering. “I like that drunk mistake,” he replied, his tone laced with amusement.
Before I could muster a retort, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Aaron said casually, leaving me standing there, clutching the bag and glaring after him.
I barely had a moment to process my irritation when I heard the familiar sound of my son’s voice.
“Mama!” Evan cried, sprinting toward me with open arms.
I dropped to my knees, catching him in a warm embrace. His little cheeks were cold against my skin as I peppered them with kisses. “Give Mama kisses,” I said, smiling.
Evan leaned forward, planting sweet kisses on my face, and I chuckled. “Uncle and I bought so many things, Mama,” he said excitedly. “I even got a car toy set! Will you play with me?”
“Of course, Evan,” I said, ruffling his soft hair. “Let’s go to your room.”
Before we could move, Aaron’s voice interrupted. “Boy, won’t you greet this man?”
Evan turned, his curious blue eyes wide as he greeted Aaron politely, “Hello, Sir. I’m Evan Rosenberg.”
Aaron knelt to Evan’s level, offering a smile. “I’m Aaron Pierce, your uncle’s best friend. I even brought you a gift.”
Evan’s face lit up before hesitating. “Really? But Mama says not to take gifts from strangers,” he said, looking up at me for confirmation.
“Aaron isn’t a stranger, Evan,” Caleb chimed in from the couch, lounging like he owned the place. “He’s like a brother to me. You can trust him.”
Evan’s eyes sparkled as a long-hidden thought popped into his head. “Then… I want a dad!” he exclaimed. “Will you be my daddy? Your eyes look like mine.”
My breath hitched, and my heart dropped at his innocent yet shocking request. “Evan!” I snapped, my voice sharper than intended. Without waiting for anyone to respond, I scooped him up and marched upstairs, leaving Aaron and Caleb behind.
As I reached Evan’s room, I overheard Caleb laughing, his loud voice carrying through the house. “Evan’s just a kid. My sister gets hyper sometimes.”
Once inside the room, I set Evan on his small bed and began removing his shoes and thick jacket.
“Mama, are you mad?” Evan asked softly, his small voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I won’t say something like that again.”
My anger melted at his apology. Kneeling beside him, I cupped his little face. “No, sweetheart, I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry for raising my voice,” I admitted, guilt tugging at my chest.
Evan gave me a shy smile, and I pulled him into another hug, vowing to handle these moments better in the future. However, I was aware that my boy truly wanted a Dad. I had seen him so many times drawing a father figure, but then he would hide it from me or erase it so that I wouldn't be upset.
‘I wish your Daddy hadn't cheated on us, Baby. I wish he had thought of us even for a moment. I am sorry, Evan, for not giving you a father, but I promise I won't let you feel lonely,’ I pledged in my mind.
“Mama, I am hungry. I want to eat cookies,” Evan suddenly said to me, pulling away.
“Alright. But first, let me wash your face and hands. You don't eat anything without washing your hands once you come from outside. Remember that,” I told him and took him to the washroom.
As I dried the face of Evan, I made him wear a small hoodie to keep him warm and he ran downstairs. “Slowly, Evan. You may fall!” I shouted as I ran out looking at my son, who was at the bottom of the stairs. To my surprise, Aaron had carried Evan in his arms and I felt something weird.
“Was he always good with kids?” I murmured to myself.
- Writer
