Chapter Text
The arrivals hall at San Carlos airport was just as packed and chaotic as it had always been. Darius Bowman kept checking the board, his eyes fixed on San Diego, on time flashing on the screen, then back to the doors where passengers were starting to file in.
"Daddy." The little girl in his arms tugged his sleeve. "Is Mommy almost here?"
"Yeah, baby. Any minute now." He shifted her weight on his hip. She was getting heavy, but had insisted on being carried the second they walked into the airport.
Isabella Rose Bowman was three, or "three and a half," as she'd always add her little pinkie to three other fingers to correct anyone who asked. She was getting a little impatient, now kicking her light-up sneakers against his ribs every few seconds. Her hair was starting to frizz out of the high puff he'd attempted this morning, and now Brooklynn was going to know immediately that he'd used the wrong gel.
Darn it, he was supposed to be getting better at this.
"She's taking too long." Isabella's voice went wobbly, and Darius recognized the sound she always made right before crying.
"Hey, it's okay. She’ll be here soon." He kissed the top of her head. "You miss her, huh?"
Isabella nodded into his shoulder.
Darius couldn’t blame her. It had been over a week this time, and waiting at the airport had now become a routine for both of them. Brooklynn would call from whatever hotel room, and Isabella would press her face close to the screen, asking if Mommy had seen any dinosaurs on her trip, or if she could bring home a baby triceratops. Darius would hold up the phone during the calls and smile, trying his best to bridge the gap that came with Brooklynn’s absence.
He understood it. He really did. Brooklynn was good at her job, great, actually. She'd accomplished so much and had broken three major stories in the last year alone. He had always been so proud of her. He'd known who she was when they got together, and how much being a reporter mattered to her.
But she didn't know about Thursday night.
Isabella's monitor had gone off at 2 a.m., and by the time Darius got to her room, she had tears streaming down her face and was gasping for air with one hand pressed to her chest. He'd checked the pulse ox clipped to her finger. It had been so low that it’d taken twenty whole minutes for her oxygen to climb back up, and for her breathing to even out. He'd sat on the floor next to her bed for hours after that, watching her fall asleep again and unable to hold back his tears.
He hadn't mentioned it on their call Friday morning. He knew Brooklynn would drop everything and hop on the next flight back home even when her job was on the line, so he'd angled the phone carefully and had made sure Isabella looked okay, so she believed him when he’d said everything was fine.
Isabella had another appointment next week. He'd tell her about it then.
Maybe.
Isabella couldn't run as far as the other kids before her chest hurt. She couldn't climb as high before her breathing went shallow. There were even foods she loved that they had to limit, and places she couldn’t go, but they never let her feel different.
Brooklynn was an amazing mother. Even from hotel rooms, she'd always record bedtime stories, sometimes telling the same book three different ways so Isabella could pick her favorite. Before her trips, she would often leave notes around the house for Darius to find. Don't forget her meds at 7. She likes the pink cup better. Kiss her goodnight twice, one from me.
When she was home, she was all in. She made sure every park trip became an adventure, and every hospital visit turned into a game where Isabella earned sticker medals for being brave. Brooklynn could make her laugh even when she was hooked up to monitors, fighting so hard to breathe.
But still, Darius kept counting the days between her trips, wishing the deadlines could wait, and that the flights could be less frequent. It wasn’t from a place of resentment, he was just scared that while Brooklynn was chasing stories, he was watching their daughter grow up, they were both losing little moments they’d never get back.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, princess?”
“I don’t want Mommy to leave again.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Darius kissed her forehead again. “She always comes back, right? And this time she’s going to hug you so tight you’ll have to remind her to let go.”
“Look, Dad! It’s Mommy!” Isabella squealed suddenly, squirming to be put down.
Darius followed her gaze towards his wife. Brooklynn had just come through the doors, dragging her suitcase behind her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, slightly tangled from the flight, her coat draped over one arm. She looked tired, but the second she spotted them, her exhaustion faded into that smile he was still in love with even after a decade.
“Isa!” He heard her call from a distance.
Isabella took off running the second he put her down, her dino plushie nearly slipping out of her hands. Brooklynn dropped everything and crouched down, and Isabella threw herself into Brooklynn’s arms, the impact knocking her back onto her heels. Brooklynn was laughing and crying at the same time, holding Isabella like she'd forgotten how to let go.
Darius watched them with the biggest smile on his face, as Brooklynn's hand came up to cup the back of Isabella's head.
Yeah, she was definitely crying. She'd probably deny it later, but he could tell.
He'd married Brooklynn Miller four years ago in a small ceremony with their friends ugly-crying through the vows. Ben had given a toast that was somehow both awkward and perfect, and Kenji had shown up being…Kenji. He remembered how nervous he’d felt, slipping the ring onto her finger, from the little doubt in his ability to be a good husband to her and a father to their children.
Then came Isabella. She’d arrived early, so early that Darius remembered standing frozen at the sight of their daughter in an incubator, wires hooked up to her chest, tiny fists curled like she was already bracing to fight. The doctors had explained it with words that seemed foreign to him. Premature delivery, complications, and congenital heart disease. Those were words that should have broken him, and nearly did.
But that little girl in Brooklynn’s arms now had been stronger than any of them, and Darius vowed to be stronger for her sake.
By the time he reached them, Brooklynn was standing again with Isabella still wrapped around her. She looked at him, and he could see the apology forming before she even opened her mouth.
He kissed her before she could say it.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled against his lips, one hand coming up to his face. He pulled her as close as he could with Isabella between them, and she leaned in without hesitating.
God, he'd missed her. He’d missed the smell of her shampoo, the way she fit against him, the taste of her lips. He'd spent the last week and a half on the couch with his laptop open, staring at the clock instead of finishing reports, counting down the hours till her flight back home.
She didn’t need to know how much he hated her absence, or how he never ended their video calls whenever she fell asleep on them, so that he could feel close to her.
She was home, and that was enough.
"Hi, Love." She was breathless when he broke the kiss. "Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long."
"Only a week." He didn't let go of her waist. "But it felt way longer."
He brushed his thumb under her eye, tracing the dark circles there. "You look exhausted."
"I am." She leaned into his hand. "But I'm better now."
He grabbed her suitcase while she picked up Isabella, who locked her arms around Brooklynn's neck, in another embrace.
"Mommy, don't leave again."
Brooklynn kissed her cheek. "Not for a while, baby. I promise."
They started walking. Isabella perched on Brooklynn's hip, tiny hands gripping her coat collar. Then she looked up with all the seriousness of someone twice her age.
"Did you see any dinosaurs, Mommy? And why are they dying?"
Darius couldn't help but smile.
He saw so much of himself in her. He’d been the kid who loved dinosaurs so much that he scribbled them into every margin of his notebooks. He would ramble on and on about dinosaur facts that usually got on a lot of people’s nerves, but it never stopped him, always knowing what he wanted to be even before getting into high school.
But there was also Brooklynn in her, no doubt about it. It was in the way she never stopped asking her questions, always curious to get answers, even if it made people uncomfortable.
"So you want to know about San Diego?" Brooklynn raised a brow.
Isabella nodded so hard her plushie almost fell. "Did you see any new dinosaurs there?"
"A few. Not like the ones on Nublar, though. Some of them were sick. Some are still dying." She paused. "None you haven't seen."
"Daddy took me to work! I saw a…"
"Oh, he did?" Brooklynn shot Darius a look. "You're taking her to work now?"
Darius shrugged. "She wouldn't stop crying. And it was just the observation deck, nothing dangerous."
"Mm-hm. And let me guess, she didn't just watch?"
Isabella sat up straighter, holding up her plushie. "I saw a Backysaurus! It was so big, Mommy! Bigger than our house. Daddy said it eats leaves, not people."
Darius laughed. "Backysaurus, huh? That's a new one."
Brooklynn kissed Isabella's hair. "Brachiosaurus, baby. But I like yours better."
"Backysaurus," Isabella repeated, nodding.
"Careful," Darius said, "if you rename all the dinosaurs, Isa, I'll have to rewrite my whole field guide."
Her eyes went wide. "All of it?"
"Every page." He tickled her sides. "And that's a lot of dinosaurs."
Isabella loved to pick up Darius’s field guides that held pictures of dinosaurs. She didn’t understand any of the words, but she’d flip through them, more interested in them than in her bedtime stories, pointing at the ones she knew by name and making up her own for the rest.
“I can help you, Dad, I can draw the Backysaurus, with a really, really long neck.”
Darius snorted, and Brooklynn laughed. "See? You've got a new partner. She'll finish her book before you finish yours."
“But I wish I could see more dinosaurs.”
"You could," Brooklynn said, running her hand down Isabella's back. "If your dad agrees to that trip to Jurassic Park in the Redwoods."
Isabella's head snapped up. “We are going there? Really?"
Darius froze.
Redwood’s new Jurassic Park had been there for over four years now. It had been over the press releases when it was built, and was branded to be one of the attempts of "a future of coexistence," like they called it. It had safe viewing areas, controlled habitats, and very few carnivores. He'd been there a couple of times, had even patrolled it once, and had watched kids press their faces against the fences while herbivores grazed in the distance.
He’d known it long enough to read the other reports, the hidden ones that never made it to the media. The ankylosaurus that broke containment after a drone spooked it. The two rangers who got hit by a Dilophosaurus and spent weeks in the ICU, and so many other near-misses that had been kept out of the news.
He’d been avoiding the idea of visiting the park with his daughter ever since. He could be the boy who took risks back then, when he was twelve…when he was nineteen. He could be the boy who ran through jungles and remote islands where every corner and shadow crawled with carnivores, and the ground shook with footsteps bigger than houses. Back then, he could throw himself into danger again and again, out of his love for dinosaurs.
Things had changed since Isabella came into his life.
Since he had a family to come home to and a family to protect.
"Brook." His voice came out quieter. "Don't."
She frowned. "It's just a park. I thought we could…"
"It's not just a park." His words were sharp.
Isabella's head turned toward him. "Can we go tomorrow, Daddy? Please?"
He looked at her. "I know it sounds fun, baby. But dinosaurs aren't all like the ones in your books."
Her face fell. "But they're real…and I wanna see them."
God, she sounded just like him at her age, stubborn and sure that loving something meant being close to it. But he knew better now. Loving dinosaurs didn’t make them safe. He learnt that sometimes, respecting them meant keeping your distance.
"Things are different now, Darius." Brooklynn cut in. "It's not like when we were kids."
This again? She'd brought this up a couple of times, and he'd said no every time. But here she was, trying again with Isabella right there, like he'd give in just because their daughter was watching.
“Different doesn’t mean safe, Brook. We both know that.” He persisted. “I’m sorry, but my answer is still the same. Jurassic Park is off limits…at least for now.”
He stared at the floor. Saying no sucked, and he hated disappointing Isabella. But he was trying to keep her safe. Why couldn't Brooklynn see that?
When he looked up, Brooklynn wasn't arguing. She just had that look that made him know she was holding something back, and that was worse than if she'd just said what she was thinking.
He’d told himself it didn’t matter, and that Brooklynn would forget about that park soon. But as he looked at her again, he realized that it wasn’t only about dinosaurs anymore. It was about the way she was starting to look at him whenever he said no, like his protection wasn’t love, but now a cage.
And that thought scared him more than anything.
Yazmina Fadoula felt the knot in her stomach tighten as she turned the steering wheel of the car into the quiet San Diego neighborhood and immediately remembered why she'd left.
The houses all looked the same. Perfect lawns, white driveways, and hedges trimmed into neat cubes. Sammy had once said that it looked like a showroom, but when she was a kid, she hadn't noticed. Now she couldn't unsee it.
The house at the end of the street was exactly how she remembered, big, beige, and spotless. There wasn’t a toy in the yard or a bike against the garage. It seemed like the kind of place where everything had to be just so…perfect. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place they’d planned to raise their daughter in from the start.
She noticed Sammy seated in the passenger seat, arms folded tightly across her chest, chin tilted toward the window. She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since they left the airport, and now her eyes scanned the street in silence that spoke volumes. Yaz couldn’t hold back her irritation at the way she looked at the place with so much disdain.
Sammy Gutierrez seemed to have a problem with everything. From the uniform houses, the expensive cars parked in identical driveways, it felt like she already had a million reasons why they should be back home in Texas.
As much as the look on her face pissed Yazmina off, she couldn’t blame Sammy. Texas had been where their lives had begun again. That little house they’d moved into when they found each other again after so many years of their breakup wasn’t grand or perfect, but it had been theirs. It had been on a ranch where the walls weren’t smooth, the paint chipped too easily, and the back porch leaned a little to one side, but every inch of it had seemed perfect.
There had been so many memories left behind, even the late-night arguments, slammed doors, mornings spent curled up together on the worn couch when neither could remember why they were fighting in the first place. That house had seen the vows they exchanged years ago, the rings sliding onto fingers with trembling hands and tearful laughter. It had seen the day they signed the papers that made Leslie their daughter legally, even if she’d been a daughter to them before that.
Leslie had come into their lives three years ago, when she was barely two years old, with big brown eyes and a laugh that could melt any heart. She’d brought them even closer, both learning parenthood from each other, being able to experience every step, every new word, every toothy grin. They never failed to celebrate all her birthdays, and Yaz still remembered the way Sammy cried the first time Leslie ran across the kitchen and called her Mama, her tiny arms flinging around as Sammy didn’t hold back.
Despite the tension between Sammy and her family, Leslie had bridged the gap and somehow softened the resentment Sammy held against them. The little girl had grown up surrounded by Sammy’s nephews and nieces, running barefoot through the yard, always coming home with grass stains on her jeans and pockets full of pebbles and wildflowers. Sammy’s family hadn’t always been kind to Yaz, but when it came to Leslie, the arguments were easier to push aside, because it was impossible not to love that child.
Life was going to be different here…so much different, Yaz already knew that.
But Sammy couldn’t accept that.
From the back seat, Leslie pressed her little palms against the glass, her curls bouncing as she leaned forward. Her whole face lit up as she spotted the house, as if it had been waiting just for her.
“Is this it? Grandma and Grandpa’s house?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“Yeah, mija,” Yaz said softly, forcing a smile into the rearview mirror. “This is it.”
Leslie’s grin only widened. “Wow…it’s bigger than our house! I knew it would be bigger because Grandma always sends me the nicest gifts. Remember the dollhouse? And the sparkly shoes?”
“Of course, I do.” Yaz replied, “I’m sure she has even more gifts waiting for you.”
Although Yazmina’s parents had also been against her relationship with Sammy from the start and had gone years without speaking to her, they had never once turned their backs on Leslie. Gifts wrapped in bright paper had arrived every holiday and birthday, each gift carefully chosen, as if Yaz’s mother believed she could fix things over the silence with ribbons and bows. Yaz knew it wasn’t love for her they were trying to show, it was love for the child they hadn’t asked for, but couldn’t resist.
Sammy, of course, saw right through it. To her, the gifts were like guilt in disguise, and a way of pretending that they hadn’t let their personal biases get in the way of having a relationship with their granddaughter. And though she never stopped Leslie from tearing into the wrapping paper when the presents came, she also noticed the way Sammy’s smile was never genuine while watching her open those presents.
They’d never accepted Sammy as part of their family, and it hurt to even think about it.
“Babe,” Yaz reached out, letting her hand brush gently against Sammy’s arm. “Are you alright?”
Sammy flinched at the touch in a way that was confusing to Yaz. “I’m fine.”
Yaz withdrew her hand slowly, completely devastated. She hated how quickly the space between them could grow, how they could feel inseparable and in the next, like strangers locked in different worlds. She loved Sammy, even when it had been a battle holding on to their relationship when their own families were against them. It was their love for each other that had kept them from walking away, even when it would’ve been easier.
From the back seat, Leslie began humming to herself, swinging her legs against the seat, and was completely unaware of the tension hanging in the front of the car. Yaz envied the way their daughter could live in joy so easily, while she and Sammy fought so hard in the background just so Leslie could have a better life.
The front door of the huge suburban home opened, and Yaz noticed her mother step out, her posture as straight and precise as the house itself.
“Grandma!” Leslie squealed almost immediately, fumbling with her seatbelt before Yaz could even put the car in park.
By the time Yaz put the car in park, Leslie had wriggled free of her seatbelt and was already pushing the door open. She ran across the driveway in a flash, curls bouncing, her laughter loud enough to reach them both in the car. She ran straight into Yaz’s mother, who had her arms already open wide to embrace her wholesomely.
“Can we please just give this a chance?” she started, her eyes darting again toward Sammy. “Please, babe. Just…be patient. We aren’t staying here forever. It’s just a little while, so we can settle in and figure things out. I don’t want to fight this battle alone.”
Sammy turned, finally, her dark eyes sharp, glistening at the corners with unshed tears. “Settle in?” she whispered. “Yaz, this place will never be home for me. You know what your parents think of me.”
“Hey, your parents hated me, too, didn’t they?” Yaz said softly. “You remember those years when they wouldn’t let me visit when we were younger? And how they said I was a bad influence on you? But you told me to give them a chance, Sammy…and I did.”
“Don’t my parents deserve the same chance? I mean…they love our daughter.” She went on. “They can love you too.”
“I don't know…”
“Just promise me, you’d try…please?”
“Alright.” Sammy nodded, finally making eye contact after avoiding it for too long. “I’ll try…for Leslie.”
And she did try.
She tried even when Yaz’s parents went on during dinner, talking over her, directing questions only at Yaz or Leslie, as if Sammy were just another guest at the table instead of the woman who had raised their granddaughter these past three years.
Yaz noticed every pause; she saw the scoffs, the eye rolls, and every carefully chosen word. Her father asked Leslie about school, the dolls she played with, and whether she wanted to learn the violin, like her mother had once. Her mother leaned in with that all too bright smile, telling Leslie how lucky she was to finally live somewhere with “real opportunities.”
No one asked Sammy a thing.
The silence around her was so loud it hurt. But Sammy did try to join in just like she’d promised. Each time she would chirp in a response or ask a question, it was either met with silence, brief nods without any sign of interest, or a quick change of subject, as if her presence at the table was the elephant in the room that everyone was too well-mannered to call out.
Yaz felt the pain every second Sammy was dismissed or overlooked, her fork scraping against her plate just to give her hands something to do, trying to hold in her frustration.
Leslie made things a little lighter as everyone was holding back because of her. She told stories to her grandparents about the ranch, about feeding chickens with Nana, Sammy’s mother, and how her Uncle Jacob, Sammy’s older brother, once let her sit on the tractor. Her little voice was full of joy, painting their life in the colors that Yaz’s parents clearly didn’t appreciate.
She told them of the one person she missed the most…her best friend, Isabella Bowman, and how they’d both been inseparable despite growing up miles away from each other.
Yaz noticed her mother give a faint smile, the way she always did when she wanted to hide judgment inside politeness. “Well, darling, that sounds…great. But I’m sure you’ll love living here. Your school here would be much bigger with a lot more friends. It’ll be a huge improvement from what you’re used to.”
She immediately glanced at Sammy and saw her jaw tighten, saw her fingers curl around her napkin until her knuckles whitened. For a moment, Yaz thought she might let it pass, swallow it down like she always did, but then Sammy lifted her head. Her voice trembled, but it was loud enough to show the depth of her pain.
“With due respect, Leslie was happy on that ranch. She had a family who loved her, taught her to work hard, and made sure she felt safe. She didn’t need…an improvement. She just needed love, and she got that.”
Yaz’s heart swelled with both pride and fear.
Her father raised an eyebrow, his fork pausing midair. He was clearly pissed at Sammy’s words and tone. Meanwhile, her mother blinked, her lips curving into a small, dismissive smile. “Of course, dear. But love only goes so far. A child needs more than chickens and dirt roads. She needs structure, guidance, and a proper foundation. Those are things she could never really get in…” she gestured vaguely with her hand, “…that kind of environment.”
Her words landed like a hard slap across the table. Yaz just could not believe her parents would have the nerve to say those words in Sammy’s presence.
In their daughter's presence.
Before she could react and jump into Sammy’s defense, Sammy pushed her chair back with a sharp scrape against the floor.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, voice breaking, before standing and leaving the table.
The sound of her footsteps retreating down the hall was louder than the clinking silverware or Leslie’s small gasp, and the concern in the little girl’s eyes watching Sammy leave.
Leslie was watching, and it made her blood boil.
Yaz’s hands curled into fists in her lap. She looked at her parents, both of them staring like nothing happened, completely unbothered, as if Sammy’s pain was just an unfortunate side effect of “telling the truth.”
“Do you hear yourselves?” Yaz blurted in anger, glaring at them. Her parents looked at her, startled. “That’s the woman who’s raised your granddaughter for the last three years. The woman who’s been my family when you wouldn’t. And you think it’s right to sit here and belittle her in front of me? In front of Leslie?”
Her mother opened her mouth, but Yaz raised her hand. “No. You don’t get to dress it up in nice words and call it concern. You hurt her. And you will not do that again!”
Yaz pushed back her chair, standing tall even though her chest ached. “Dinner’s over.”
“Mommy?” The sadness in Leslie’s eyes broke her. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Of course not, sweetheart.” Yaz looked over at her daughter. Leslie’s wide eyes were fixed on her as Yaz stood, walked to Leslie’s chair, and gently lifted her into her arms. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”
Yaz had hoped she wouldn’t ask any more questions, but she’d also expected when Leslie lifted her head to ask, “Mommy… are you okay?”
She didn’t answer right away, tightening her arms around her daughter instead. “Yeah, sweetheart,” she said softly after a moment. “I’m okay.”
But Leslie didn’t seem convinced. Her little brows furrowed at Yaz. “You looked mad at Grandma,” she said carefully. “Did she say something bad?”
Yaz hesitated. “She said something that wasn’t very nice,” she finally admitted. “But she didn’t mean it. People make mistakes sometimes, so it’s okay. It doesn’t change the fact that she loves you, Leslie.”
When Yaz reached the top of the stairs, heading towards the guestroom, which was once her bedroom. She immediately noticed that Sammy seemed to be on a phone call, her voice loud enough to be heard through the open door. She slowed her steps, the sound pulling her to a stop.
“I know, Brooklynn, I know,” Sammy was saying quietly. “It’s just been…I don’t know. It’s been such a rough night. Yaz’s parents…I’m sure they don’t mean to sound cruel, but it feels like I’m being picked apart one word at a time.”
A tired pause followed. “Yeah, Leslie’s fine. Better than me, honestly. She has such a tight bond with her grandparents, and I honestly love that for her.”
“Mami!” Leslie called out in excitement the moment they both stepped into the bedroom, eyes wide. “Are you talking to Aunt Brooklynn?”
Sammy turned towards them at the sound of Leslie’s voice, startled but instantly smiling as she saw her daughter’s eager face. “Yeah, baby, and she’s with Isabella right now.”
Leslie gasped, her small hands flying to her mouth. “Isa?!”
Sammy nodded. “Mhm. And she wants to talk to you.”
Before Yaz could even set her down, Leslie let out a delighted squeal that filled the room. “Really?! Can I talk to her, please?!” she said, bouncing on her toes.
“Alright, alright,” she said, holding out the phone. “Here you go.”
Leslie took it carefully, clutching it with both hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Hi, Isa!” she squeaked, her voice bursting with excitement. “How are you doing? I miss you so much!”
Yaz stood in a corner of the bedroom, watching as Leslie spun in a little circle, laughing into the phone. Sammy sat down on the edge of the bed, smiling faintly as she listened to her daughter’s joy talking to her best friend.
For a moment, everything felt lighter, and there was a mild relief of the tension from dinner and the sadness that had been on Sammy’s face before.
Leslie turned the phone slightly, as though Isabella could see through it. “Guess what, Isa? We’re at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in San Diego, but my mom says we will come back and visit you soon!”
“I haven’t seen any dinosaurs yet, but I will send you a picture when I do.”
Yaz's eyes met Sammy’s for a moment, and they both stared at each other in silence. Yaz felt so embarrassed, eyes falling to the floor for a second, before giving her a quiet nod, then gestured subtly toward the door of the bathroom. Sammy understood immediately.
When Leslie’s laughter filled the room again, Yaz leaned close and whispered, “We’ll be right back, okay? Don’t wander off with Grandma yet.”
Leslie nodded, too distracted by the phone to question where they were going. Yaz led Sammy into the bathroom, through the cracked door. She pushed it open gently and stepped inside. Sammy followed, hesitating only for a second before letting the door close behind them. For a long moment, they both stared at each other in silence.
Yaz leaned against the sink, crossing her arms. Sammy stood by the counter, eyes fixed on the tiles, her fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve nervously.
“I’m sorry,” Sammy said finally. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have walked out on your parents like that. I…”
Yaz shook her head before she could finish. “Sammy. No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
The instant surprise on Sammy’s face at her words was heartbreaking. “I mean it,” Yaz said, taking a step closer towards her. “You were just being yourself, polite, kind, trying to hold it together while my parents were…being themselves.”
“If anyone should be apologizing, it’s them.”
Sammy blinked, shaking her head slightly. “Yaz…”
“I told them,” Yaz cut in. “ I let them know they were out of line and that they don’t get to talk to you like that.”
Sammy’s brow dropped. “You did?”
Yaz nodded. “They needed to hear it. I should’ve said something sooner.” She exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. “You don’t deserve that…especially not after everything you’ve done for me…for Leslie.”
Sammy’s eyes shimmered, and for a second, she tried to look away. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, I just…wanted them to like me.”
“Hey,” She reached forward, cupping Sammy’s cheeks in both hands. “They don’t get to decide your worth. You don’t have to earn their approval, okay? You’ve done nothing but love me and Leslie…and that’s what matters.”
Sammy leaned into her touch with a smile. “We won’t stay here too long,” Yaz whispered. “I promise, just a few more weeks. I’ve been talking to some people about listings near the coast, something small but ours. We’ll find a place. We’ll settle down in San Diego, properly this time.”
Sammy’s arms tightened around her waist. “You mean that?”
“I mean it.”
“I just wish your parents could see what we have…what we’re building.”
“They will,” Yaz said quietly, brushing her thumb along Sammy’s jaw. “Or they won’t. Either way, I’m not letting anyone make you feel small again. You’ve already done enough. If they don’t accept us, they’ll have to get used to us anyway.”
That made Sammy laugh softly. “Then I’ll just have to make them fall in love with me,” she said proudly. “One awkward dinner at a time.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Yaz leaned closer, their foreheads brushing. “I mean…you definitely won me over.”
Sammy giggled in response. “And I did it two times over.”
“Come here, you.” Yaz grinned and pulled her into a kiss.
Brooklynn Bowman pressed the soft towel to her face one last time before hanging it on the rail over the bathroom counter. She took one glance in the mirror, tracing the faint shadow underneath her eye that her husband had pointed out at the airport earlier. Has it really been that obvious this whole time? She’d been so stressed lately and hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep for the past two weeks, and was running on caffeine, adrenaline, and sheer willpower. No wonder her face looked older than she remembered.
She’d initially planned to make a quick detour to the washroom to put some concealer over it, but quickly changed her mind the second she spotted them.
The family she’d left behind for far too long.
She’d left them behind…again.
She’d been a reporter at ‘NowThis’ for years now, chasing stories that others wouldn’t dare to touch, exposing truths hidden in the shadows, and digging deeper into the existence and now pending extinction of dinosaurs since the collapse of Biosyn years ago. There were still illegal trades ongoing, as well as illegal experiments that needed to be stopped, and mutants that the public was unaware of. On paper, it was everything she’d ever dreamed of since she was a kid. She’d dreamt of her name being on headlines and her stories sparking conversations that mattered.
But chasing that dream had always put a wedge in all her past relationships. She’d lost friends and loved ones because not everyone could be Darius Bowman.
They’d been together for nine years and had been married for four out of those, but Darius had never once asked her to choose. Not once. Even when the phone calls came in the middle of the night, even when she booked flights with less than twenty-four hours’ notice, even when Isa’s little face crumpled at the word ‘goodbye.’ He had always been there, filling up the gaps, trying his hardest to play both roles for their daughter in her absence.
It didn’t matter how many times Darius reassured her that he understood, that he supported her, that he was proud of her work. It didn’t matter how many times he stayed up late to watch the news just so he could see her on the screen. Every time she had to leave, it felt like another betrayal. She could still see Isabella’s face from the night she left, the way their daughter held onto the edge of her sweater, begging her not to go. She’d kissed her forehead, whispered promises she wasn’t sure she believed herself, and walked out anyway.
And Darius…God, he’d just stood in silence watching her leave without any anger or resentment, only the same calm patience that both comforted and broke her heart. He had taken Isabella into his arms when she cried. He had told Brooklynn to go, to be safe, to do what she felt she needed to do, and he had meant it. He always meant it.
That was the part that hurt the most.
He had never once failed her. He never once failed their daughter. He cooked the meals, packed the lunches, and braided Isa’s hair in the mornings when Brooklynn wasn’t there to do it. He took the video calls in between his own long hours at the DPW, smiling even when he was exhausted. He held everything together when she was gone to the point that she sometimes wondered if she could have done as well as he did.
And yet, she kept leaving.
She took in a deep breath, picked up her brush, and dragged it gently through her hair. It wasn’t long before she noticed Darius in the mirror, leaning back against the wall, watching her in silence. His eyes stayed on her, quiet, unreadable. For a while, he didn’t say anything, and she almost wished he wouldn’t. The silence was heavy, but at least it didn’t demand anything from her.
“Hey…are you okay?” He broke the silence after a few seconds.
Brooklynn blinked at his reflection in the mirror, the brush stilling in her hand. For a moment, she almost said yes, that she wasn’t sad at his reaction earlier when she’d requested a trip to Jurassic Park with Isabella, because what right did she have to get mad at him? He was the better parent. He was the one who knew their daughter more and was more cautious about her safety, and her guilt of always leaving them behind only made it harder to argue with him.
But the word yes stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t let it out because she was talking to Darius Bowman. He was the one person she just couldn’t lie to.
She set the brush down carefully. “I don’t know.”
Darius straightened from the wall but didn’t move closer, like he was giving her space to open up. “Is this about earlier?”
“She’s my daughter too, you know?” Brooklynn didn’t want to start a fight, but the words slipped out sharper than she meant. “I’m just as scared as you are, and I want to protect her just as much as you do.”
Her breath caught when Darius began walking towards her in silence, then he stopped and slipped both arms around her, hugging her from behind.
Brooklynn was surprised, her body stiff at first, until the warmth of his chest pressed against her back, holding her tightly and squeezing in like he never wanted to let go. She melted into him, taking in his scent, her anger and disappointment melting away in that instant. Even after so many years, he was still her safe space and her comfort when things spun out of control…he was still her home. How could she be mad at him?
“I know,” he murmured finally, his voice low, close enough that she felt it against her skin more than she heard it. “I’ve never once doubted that.”
“You were right, tho,” she whispered, eyes falling to the sink.. “About the park, about the danger, about all of it. I know you’re just trying to protect her. But when she looked at me tonight, I just…”
“I just…I want her to have a chance at being a normal kid.”
“I know she’s just three, but her whole life has been hospitals and check-ups and rules. Don’t run too far. Don’t climb too high. Don’t get too tired. It’s always don’t, don’t, don’t.” She swallowed hard. “She’s spent more time hooked up to machines than being in places that make her happy. And now the one thing she actually asked for, just one thing, and we shut it down before even thinking about it.”
“It just doesn’t seem fair to her. She’s three, Darius, and she knows more about oxygen monitors and IV lines than playgrounds. She shouldn’t have to live like this.”
“It seems like she knows she’s never going to be like other kids, but we keep making her world smaller and smaller because we’re afraid.” Her voice cracked, “I know we’re trying to protect her, but sometimes I feel like we’re stealing the little childhood she has left.”
Darius’s arms tightened around her shoulders like her words had cut through him. For a long moment, he didn’t move or speak; he just exhaled deeply like he was fighting a battle within himself. Then, slowly, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss into her shoulder. Another followed, just above it, lingering longer this time, and Brooklynn closed her eyes, her heart soaring at the unexpected tenderness.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it the way you do. I get so caught up in the negatives that I forget to think about what she’s missing, what we’re taking from her without even meaning to.”
“I didn’t want to admit it, but you’re right.”
Her throat tightened as she leaned into him. “Darius…”
He shook his head against her shoulder, pressing one last kiss there before speaking again. “We’ll go to the park.” He drew in a sharp breath. “If that’s what she wants, if it’ll make her happy, even just for a moment…then I’ll find a way to make it safe. I’ll probably go ahead for a quick patrol while you both join me afterwards.”
Brooklynn’s lips parted, surprised at his sudden change of heart. She tried to face him. “You mean it?” she asked, still dumbfounded.
Darius nodded, fingers brushing down her arm. “I mean it. We’ll take her. We’ll give her this memory because you’re right…she deserves more than doctors and rules. She deserves this, even if it scares the hell out of me.”
Brooklynn smiled, placing her arm over his and intertwining her fingers with his. “Besides…it’s Father’s Day. It’s going to be about you. You deserve to be celebrated.”
Darius chuckled. “Celebrated, huh? For what? I’m not doing anything special. I’m just being her dad.”
Brooklynn turned in his arms so she could face him. “Don’t say it like it’s nothing,” she whispered. “You’ve been everything for her. You’ve been everything for me. You’ve held this family together, and we would be nowhere without you. You are an amazing Father, Darius. That deserves to be celebrated. I don’t even know how you do it.”
“Well…I had a great dad.” Darius leaned into her hair. “If I can be half as good as he was…I’ll be fine.”
She rested her forehead against his. “And I’m sorry, I have to be away all the time. I know it’s hard sometimes doing it all without me here.”
“If you keep punishing yourself for doing what you love, you’d just drive yourself crazy.” He pulled her by the waist to close the space between them. “I fell in love with you watching you doing what you love, so I don’t want you to ever lose that, okay?”
“So you don’t have any issue with my constant absence? None at all?” Brooklynn swallowed. “You know you can be honest with me.”
He paused for a few seconds and took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I do. Sometimes I wish you didn’t always have to go so far because no matter how hard I try, you’re her mother, Brooklynn. No one can be her mother better than you can…especially me.”
“I’m sorry,” Her fingers curled into his shirt, desperate to hold onto him. “I never meant to make you feel like you were alone in this, or like I was…choosing work over you two. God, Darius, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”
“I thought I could balance both, but I can’t. Not the way I’ve been doing it.”
Darius didn’t interrupt. He just studied her in silence, his silence saying more than words ever could.
Brooklynn drew in a shaky breath, cupping his face in her palm. “No more disappearing for weeks. No more jobs that keep me halfway across the world. I’m done with that. I’ll fix my schedule. If it’s not something that lets me come home to you two every night, I won’t take it.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do.” She insisted. “Because I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt us. That it doesn’t hurt you. I can’t keep looking at Isa’s face every time I leave and telling myself it’s worth it. It’s not…not if it means missing her childhood. Not if it means missing us.”
Her thumb brushed across the rough line of his jaw, her heart breaking at the clear exhaustion in his eyes. “I want to be here, Darius. I want to be present. I don't just want to be on a video call at bedtime. I don’t want to give promises that I’ll be back soon, but actually be here. For her…for you.”
She watched him exhale slowly, his shoulders dropping like he’d been holding onto this conversation for years. He searched her eyes, his lips parting like he wanted to argue, but no words came. Finally, his hand covered hers where it rested on his cheek, his thumb pressing against her palm.
“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he admitted softly. “I just…never wanted to hold you back. I never wanted you to feel trapped.”
“Why would you think I would feel that way, babe?” She asked. “You’ve made the most sacrifices for our family. You’ve rejected offers and didn’t say yes to anything that took you away from Isabella. Shouldn’t I do the same?”
“You know it's not the same for us. I’m at a point in my career where I can make those decisions. You needed to build yours.” He brought her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on her palm, and she smiled. “And I loved building it with you…and watching you fly.”
There were many reasons she loved Darius Bowman, but his heart was the best of them. It was the way he loved her, so much that it sometimes overwhelmed her. He’d always been selfless, but even more now, never making a decision that wasn’t for the sake of his family. She’d never wanted to take his love for granted.
“What would I do without you, Darius?”
“Oh, you already know.” Darius chuckled, raising the back of his palm to show the wedding ring on his finger. “That’s why I’m stuck with you, right?”
“Forever.” It was amusing how she made it seem like a threat.
He ran his fingers softly through her hair. “But I love being stuck with you.”
“Well, you don’t have a choice.” She traced her thumb along his lower lip. “You can't go anywhere, okay? Just know that I’ll always hold on because I can’t live without you.”
She didn’t deserve someone this patient, this unwavering, and yet here he was, choosing her every single day. He’d kept to every vow he’d made on their wedding day, even in the times when she made it hard.
“And you think I can?”
She smiled, and before he could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed him. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, and she melted into him, grabbing onto his shirt so hard like she was afraid he’d pull back, like if she let go for even a second, he’d slip through her fingers. She felt his hands wander down her back, gripping her waist like he needed her just as badly, his body pressing into hers until there was no space left between them.
The kiss grew frantic and more intense, her teeth grazing his lip, his breath hot against her cheek, until Darius let out a low, rough sound that made her knees weaken. Before she could steady herself, his arms were around her, lifting her clean off the ground. Brooklynn gasped into his mouth, her fingers locking at the back of his neck, and then the cool edge of the counter pressed against her thighs as he set her down with more urgency than care.
Her back hit the mirror lightly, pulling another breathless laugh out of her before it was swallowed again by his mouth crashing into hers. His hands spread over her thighs, pulling her closer, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, tugging him in, and the counter beneath her shook faintly with the force of his body against hers.
Her breathing came ragged as his hands slid underneath her shirt, and the heat of his palms was like fire against her skin. Every touch left her trembling, as she moaned, arching helplessly into his touch, needing him closer, needing more. Her own hand was restless, gripping at his shoulders, sliding down to his chest, then curling back up into his hair as if she couldn’t decide where to keep him, as if she needed to feel all of him at once, begging him not to stop.
He broke the kiss for only a second, dragging his mouth along her jaw, down to her shoulders. The heat of his breath against her skin made her head fall back, her fingers tightening in his curls, her chest heaving as his lips left a trail of desperate, open-mouthed kisses along her neck.
She could barely think, and every thought was drowned out by the way he claimed her, the way she burned under him. Her pulse was racing in her ears, and every brush of his lips and feel of his hands made her world spin out of control. She clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her sane at the same time, lost in the heat of the moment, until a small knock rattled the bathroom door and reality slammed back in.
“Mommy? Daddy?” Isabella’s small voice came through the door.
Brooklynn’s whole body tensed, her lips still parted against Darius’s. His forehead dropped to her shoulder, a low groan rumbling out of him. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.
Brooklynn bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh, her chest still heaving. “Of all the times,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his jaw.
Another knock followed, louder this time. “Please open the door.”
Darius pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his breath still uneven, frustration and disbelief flickering across his face. “Isabella…” His voice came out as a rough, low growl. “At this rate, if you keep this up, you will never get a sibling.”
Brooklynn’s laugh escaped before she could stop it. “You should see your eyes right now. Did you miss me that much?”
“Is that a question?”
“I’m sorry, honey.” She giggled in response. “But didn’t we put her to bed already?”
“We did. She just has this habit of pretending to be asleep,” Darius muttered, glaring at the door before turning back to Brooklynn with a pointed look. “Way too smart for her own good.”
Brooklynn raised a brow, teasing. “Tell me you didn’t do that at her age.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Exactly. And that’s what scares me.”
“She’s all you, so you can’t blame me for it.” Brooklynn chirped in with a sheepish smile. “I can bet you she wants to sleep in our room tonight.”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Brooklynn leaned in, brushing her lips against his just enough to fuel the fire, then pulling away immediately. “Like you can say no to her. I’d like to see you try.”
Darius’s hands tightened at her waist, his eyes darkening as he caught her lips with his, giving her another kiss, “Watch me.”
“You’re being dramatic. Let’s just let her sleep here with us.”
He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am,” she said with a teasing smile, fingers slipping back into his hair. “But I’m also on hers.”
“Daddy? Mommy?”
“Open the door, Darius, she’s gonna start crying.”
“Isa, I’m coming, okay?”
Brooklynn grinned as Darius pulled back with a sigh, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before staggering towards the door. He pulled it open, already bracing himself to say no to whatever request, but the moment he saw Isabella standing there, in her pink pajamas with her stuffed dinosaur hugged tight to her chest, every ounce of frustration drained from his face.
“Hey,” he crouched down so he was at her eye level. “What’s wrong, Isa?”
Her lip trembled as she rubbed her eyes. “I had a nightmare,” she whispered, her voice tiny.
Darius’s chest softened immediately. He scooped her up without hesitation, her small arms looping around his neck as she buried her face against his shoulder. He patted her back, rocking her gently. “Shh, it’s okay.”
Brooklynn stepped into the doorway, her heart soaring as she watched them. She brushed a hand over Isa’s messy curls and kissed her temple. “Daddy is going after the monsters in your dream, remember? So don’t be scared.”
Isabella sniffled, lifting her head just enough to look between them. “Can I…sleep with you and Mommy?”
Darius closed his eyes, exhaling slowly against her hair like he was already defeated. He turned toward Brooklynn, who raised a brow and smirked knowingly.
“Please?” Isabella pleaded.
Brooklynn nodded. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Darius exhaled, pressing another kiss to his daughter’s head. “Alright,” he muttered, almost grudgingly. “But just tonight.”
Isabella smiled, her face brightening as she tucked herself closer into his chest.
“You’re a softie,” Brooklynn said with a teasing smile.
“Don’t start,” He muttered, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed him.
“Guess what, Isa.” Brooklynn started again. “We are going to Jurassic Park tomorrow!”
Isabella’s head popped up from Darius’s shoulder, her tired eyes going wide, the trace of tears instantly replaced with excitement. “Really?!” she squealed.
“You owe mommy a gift, tho, I had to convince your dad to let us go.”
“Thank you, mommy!” She leaned towards Brooklynn, who took her from Darius's arms, hugging her tightly.
“Wow, so I don’t get a thank you?” Darius asked as he followed them into the bedroom.
“Nope, you don’t,” Brooklynn teased, grinning as Isabella giggled against her shoulder.
She carried their daughter into the room and laid her gently in the middle of the bed, where Isa immediately curled up with her stuffed dinosaur clutched tight to her chest.
“So I’ll get to see more dinosaurs?” she mumbled sleepily, peeking up at them with drooping eyes.
Brooklynn smoothed the blanket over her. “Only if you promise us you’ll sleep tonight, sweetie.”
“I promise. Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad.” Isabella whispered, then shut her eyes tight as if sealing the deal, her long curls spilling across the pillow.
“Goodnight, Isa.” They said in unison.
Brooklynn slipped in on one side of the bed, tucking the blanket around their daughter. “Shouldn’t we get her monitor?”
“It's here.” Darius pointed to the monitor next to the bed. “She slept here with me for the past two nights.”
Darius climbed in on the other, his hand brushing against hers across Isa’s small frame. Their eyes met in the dim light, and Brooklynn smiled as she watched him gently stroke Isabella’s hair until her rough breathing evened out and she was asleep.
“How has she been?” Brooklynn whispered.
“Good.”
“Please…be honest with me.” She asked again. “How has she really been?”
She watched him pause for a minute, hoping desperately that he wasn’t holding anything back. “We saw the doctor earlier this week, and uhm…she went through the usual tests.”
Darius’s voice was low, careful not to wake Isabella. “The physical, her EKG, the echo. Everything looks steady for now, but…” He trailed off, his thumb tracing gentle circles over Isa’s curls.
“But what?” Brooklynn’s heart rate went up.
“The doctor seemed a bit worried. She’s not responding to her meds as expected, so they just want to keep a close eye on her and maybe do more scans later. And they reminded us to stay on top of her dentist visits too, even little infections matter. We need to be extra careful.”
Brooklynn swallowed hard, her throat burning as she pressed her lips together. She nodded slowly, even though her heart felt like it was caving in. Watching their daughter go through so much pain always tore her to shreds. She blinked fast, trying to hold back her tears, but one still slipped free down the corner of her eyes. She brushed it away quickly with the back of her hand, hoping Darius hadn’t noticed.
But of course he had. He always did.
“Hey.” He whispered, reaching across their daughter to cover Brooklynn’s hand with his. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she whispered back, her voice cracking.
“Hide your tears from me,” Darius replied. “You can hide it from anyone else…but please don't hide them from me.”
“I’m sorry, I just…”
“I know, Love.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “I know.”
“It’s gonna be okay.” He added, and she smiled, nodding in response. “She’s being strong for us…so we need to be strong for her…okay?”
She nodded again, her eyes glistening, as they were locked on his. His thumb brushed tenderly over Isa’s curls, and without a word, he found Brooklynn’s hand and laced his fingers through hers.
“I love you.” He said quietly.
She smiled because she knew he meant it, and he’d never given her a reason to doubt it. She took his hand, placing a kiss on the back of his palm.
“I love you too.”