“But aren’t you lonely?”
“Sometimes.”
Nayelli glanced over at me. “You know, . . . Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she gets lonely too.”
I almost choked on my water. “Nayelli!”
“What! I’m just saying. You won’t be lonely together.”
I shook my head. “Your father and I are focused on being parents and having a healthy coparent relationship, baby.”
“Well can’t you do that and be happy together so we can be a real family? I mean, I need my daddy, and KJ needs a mom.”
My gaze drifted over to Kerrion. He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. While I knew he and KJ’s mother weren’t a couple, I was sure she meant something to him.
I sighed. “Nayelli. I could never replace KJ’s mom. She held a special place in his and your father’s life.”
“You don’t have to replace her. Grandpa Hershel didn’t replace Grandpa Stanley. They both love my daddy. You could love me and KJ.”
This little girl was too smart for her own good, and she made too much sense. It could all be that simple, but it wasn’t. I couldn’t explain that to her, because her mind was already made up. Just as I went to say something, an older woman approached our table.
“Kerrion?”
He looked up and smiled. “Hey, Ms. Anita.” He pulled her into a hug. “How are you?”
Her gaze drifted to Nayelli, then to me. She stared at me long and hard. At one point, it became uncomfortable when tears brimmed her eyes. She quickly swiped them away and turned to Kerrion.
“I’m okay. I just came to grab something to eat for me and . . .” She looked down at the bag in her hand. “I um . . . I grabbed Donna’s favorite. You know she loved this place when she was pregnant.”
So this was the grandmother. My heart went out to her. It was clear she was still heavily grieving the loss of her child.
“She did. I’ve come here a million times to grab her a plate.”
She gave a soft smile as she picked up KJ and kissed his chubby cheeks. Baby boy grinned and touched her face.
“Hey, Grandma’s baby! I missed you.”
“I’m sure he missed you too,” Kerrion said, taking his seat.
Ms. Anita’s gaze drifted over to us again. This time, she said something. “Who’s this?” she asked.
“Ms. Anita. This is Neha and Nayelli. Nayelli is my daughter.”
Her eyes widened. “Your-your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Like this is your girlfriend and you claim her child, or like this is your biological child?”
“She’s biologically mine.”
“Well, . . . this is news to me. You nor Donna never mentioned you having a daughter.”
“We just came into each other’s lives.”
“Oh. Well, um. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”