Chapter 46 "... and did you know my stomach acid can melt metal?!" Luka practically shouts with glee, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth. Kovan sits at the head of the table with Luka and me flanking him on either side. To anyone peering through the window, we'd look like the perfect family having dinner together. And it almost looks that way to me, too. There are moments-brief, breathtaking moments-when I find myself thinking that. I forget we're not a real family, much less a perfect one, not even close. Moments when I let myself get caught up in the whole beautiful sweep of it all. The glittering, crystalline fantasy of pretending we can have this, just this, forever. Nothing hurts more than when those moments end. But while they're happening? While that happy bubble still floats? God, there's nothing better. "That's incredible," Kovan replies to his nephew with a wry smile. "I know!" Luka abandons his pasta entirely so he can gesture with both hands. "Oh, and most people fart enough in one day to fill a party balloon." Kovan snorts with laughter. "Good to know. Next time we throw you a birthday party, I'll put Osip in charge of balloons. Pretty sure he could fill a dozen in an hour." They both dissolve into teary giggles. I'm laughing, too, but even more than that, I'm watching their easy back-and-forth and trying not to let the bad voices make the happy bubble go pop. They do, though. They always do. There's an evil witch's voice in my head, cold and insistent, that won't let me enjoy it completely. This isn't your family. Luka isn't your son. Kovan isn't your husband. This was never meant for you. "Vesper, can you put me to bed tonight?" Luka asks, pulling me back to the present. "Me?" My eyes go to Kovan automatically. "Well, I⁠-" "I'll put you to bed, Luka," Kovan cuts in. "Vesper's probably exhausted after your museum adventure." Luka's face crumples. "But I want Vesper!" Kovan's jaw tightens. "Finish your dinner." The dismissal is final, absolute. I sit there chewing pork that suddenly tastes like wet, mushy cardboard, my stomach knotting with something that feels suspiciously close to hurt. I shouldn't be surprised. Kovan has made it crystal clear where I stand-fake girlfriend, not fake mother. The witchy voice in my head was right to warn me. I focus on my plate, forcing down the last few bites while Luka glares at his uncle with all the righteous indignation an eight-year-old can muster. The moment we're finished, I collect the dishes and escape to the kitchen. I need distance from the tension I accidentally created. I should have invited Waylen to stay for dinner. Being alone with them feels increasingly dangerous. I'm elbow-deep in soapy water when they appear in the doorway, already deep in their nightly negotiations. "Fifteen minutes of Mario Kart before bed?" Luka tries. "Absolutely not. You had thirty minutes yesterday." "That was yesterday!" "You can survive one night without video games," Kovan says firmly. "Especially if you want to play this weekend." Luka's eyes shift to me, and I recognize that calculating look immediately. "Okay, I'll skip Mario Kart," he agrees, far too easily. "Wonderful." "... if Vesper puts me to bed." I can see Kovan fighting a smile, clearly impressed despite his annoyance. "Luka⁠-" "Please, Uncle Kovan! I really want Vesper tonight." I brace myself for Kovan's inevitable refusal. But instead, he sighs. "Fine. Have it your way." Luka pumps his fist in the air. "Yes!" I stare at Kovan in shock. "I can't believe you actually gave in." He shakes his head, almost smiling. "Sometimes, you have to pick your battles." "Not everything has to be a battle," I mumble softly. Kovan moves closer, stopping just a foot away. His green eyes lock onto mine, and I feel heat crawl up my neck. "It doesn't have to be," he agrees. "But it usually is. That's life." Before I can respond, Luka grabs my hand. "Come on, Vesper. Bedtime!" He drags me away before I can steal another look at Kovan. Which is probably for the best. My thoughts have been scattered lately. And my willpower? I'm starting to think it doesn't exist. I spent most of last night trying not to think about Kovan while I used the expensive vibrator I bought two years ago and have touched exactly twice. Both times on my birthday. "Pathetic" doesn't begin to cover it. Upstairs, I make Luka brush his teeth, then let him talk me into three bedtime stories instead of his usual one. When his eyelids start drooping, I pull his covers up and begin massaging his scalp the same way Kovan did for me not so long ago. I was barely conscious that night, but I was still completely aware of him. I've never slept so deeply or woken up so rested. Of course, I also woke up wearing his shirt-soft white cotton that felt better than silk-in a bed that might as well have been made of clouds. "Vesper?" Luka mumbles, his voice heavy with oncoming sleep. "Yes, sweetheart?" "I wish you lived with us all the time." "I practically do," I point out. "When I'm not at the hospital, I'm here with you." "But your stuff is still at your apartment." "Because that's my home." "This could be your home, though." I keep stroking his hair, my throat suddenly tight. "Time to sleep now, Luka. You're tired." "I like to pretend Uncle Kovan is my dad," he whispers, eyes closing. "I know. You told me." He shifts onto his side, clutching my hand against his chest like a security blanket. Something spikes up inside me, a prickly kind of longing I didn't know I was capable of feeling. "I also pretend that you're my mama." My hand goes still in his hair. But Luka doesn't notice-he's already asleep, his grip on my hand loosening as his breathing evens out. Mama. It's not a word I ever thought would apply to me. It's not even a word I wanted. I wasn't like other girls growing up. Hell, I wasn't like the boys, either. I didn't play house or have tea parties with stuffed animals. I never dreamed of becoming a mother because I had my sights set on something bigger. I wasn't going to be just another wife or mother-I was going to be a doctor. If that meant sacrificing my personal life, then so be it. I was more than willing to make that trade. But sitting here, watching Luka's peaceful face in sleep, I can't help wondering if I chose wrong. Maybe I sacrificed too much. Maybe I didn't think hard enough about what I was giving up. Maybe, maybe, maybe. The questions multiply, spinning through my head until I'm dizzy with them. For so long, I always knew exactly where I was going. I always knew exactly what I wanted to be. But now? Nothing feels certain anymore. I've had the smallest taste of what it might be like to have a family. A partner. A child. And suddenly, the life I thought I wanted feels like it will never be enough.