“People fight, it happens, it’s normal. Especially when things are as complicated as they are with you two, there’s bound to be misunderstandings and difficulties until you find your footing. But it’s what you do after a disagreement that matters most, rather than expecting that things should just automatically be perfect. Just give it time. I promise you this doesn’t have to be the end of it. You haven’t lost yet. This isn’t over, so just…let’s cool off, let him do the same, and then see where you are again once you’re both feeling a little more rational.”

“You don’t understand,” I huff, trying desperately to push the hurt back down inside me. “I thought we were past this. We talked last night, we moved beyond all our silly bullshit. We explained our hang-ups to each other, we made promises for crying out loud. At least, I thought we had. And then at the first sign of trouble he immediately closes off from me and starts hurling accusations, as if I’m the bad guy and always will be! I don’t think he sees me as a person with feelings. How can he, when it’s so easy for him to turn on me like that? Maybe I’m just a placeholder for him, someone he’s attracted to who he thinkshe wants forever with. But maybe he’ll get bored and move on like everyone else.”

I’m tempted to let myself fall all the way into my dramatic spiral, and self-indulge in a little more woe, when I hear a shuffle at my side, and Rylah makes a cute squeal of happiness. I turn to look as my daughter reaches her chubby green arms to the side, as a flash of purple hair and iridescent wings disappear around the corner of our booth.

I blink in confusion. “Nib?”

After a second, Nib’s slightly guilty face leans back around the booth divider and she offers a guilty wave and smile.

“Oh, hi, Ella!” she says hurriedly. She absently reaches over from her booth-seat that’s joined to mine, to put her finger between Rylah’s outstretched hands, and receiving a healthy smear of spaghetti sauce for her efforts. “Didn’t see you there.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh my god, how long have you been sitting here?”

“Weeeell…” she draws out, before a faint buzz of her wings signals her flight, and she lifts up and quickly flutters into the seat beside me. “Long enough that I couldn’t help but overhear that there has been some more trouble in paradise, this morning.”

I throw my hands up in surrender. “No shame whatsoever!”

“Look,” Nib says matter-of factly, completely dropping any pretense at remorse for eavesdropping. “Since I’ve already accidentally overheard absolutely every single detail of what you’ve been talking to your sister about for the past half hour—”

I groan, but she happily ignores me.

“—I thought I might as well throw in my two cents, just to give you some context, if you don’t mind? Hi, by the way, my name’s Nib.” She leans over and stretches a pale, spaghetti smeared hand to my sister. Grace, for her part, takes it all in stride and shakes her hand as if this is all very normal.

“Anyway, Ella, I’m on your side of this whole convoluted story.”

“But?” I ask in a slow drawl, because this is definitely about to have a butto it.

“But, I think Rhokar’s response might have a little to do with some orc culture you’re probably not aware of.”

“Oh, don’t try and excuse him!” I interrupt, although she shakes her head.

“No, I’m not, I promise. This is only context, okay?” She smiles in a sympathetic way, and then bites her lip. “What’s happened between you two has a different, rather specific meaning for him. It’s…I don’t know how to put this, um…really insulting? To block a father out of the picture?”

I huff and slide across the booth from where she sits beside me, so that I can turn to her more as I cross my arms, cross my legs, and glower in a very Rhokar-esque way. “And it’s not insulting for him to just assume I’m a terrible mother trying to keep her kids away from their poor, innocent father out of spite and malice?”

“No! That’s not the case!” Nib backpedals. “Well, I’m not not saying that’s the case, to be fair—about what he thinks, I mean. But I think it’s not, from what I would assume, from what I know, uh, about him and…I mean, I’m not trying to say his reaction was okay, but you’ve probably insulted him more deeply than you realize with your actions.”

I glower harder.

“I’m—I’m not trying to say you did anything wrong, either! Oh, gosh, uh…”

“Nib, dearie, I think you’re making this worse.”

I blink, and turn over my shoulder to see Ismelda, of all people, stand from the opposite end of the booth Nib had been eavesdropping on us from.

“Ismelda?” I choke. “Not you, too!”

“Well, I couldn’t help but overhear, love…”

She steps out from the booth and unhurriedly joins us at the table, sitting beside my sister.

“Wait, you know my aunt?” Nib asks.

“Ismelda’s your aunt?” I fire back.

“How do you know so many people here already?” Grace pipes in.

“‘Sgetti cold!” Rylah adds loudly, and I take a deep breath, feeling like my brain is whirling a little.