CHAPTER 194: NUMBERS AREN’T REAL

Ash’s POV

I dropped the grocery bags on the counter, exhaling like I’d just run a marathon. My shoulders ached, my head was pounding, and still...I tied the apron around my waist because Alia needed dinner, and that came before everything else.

She was already perched on the dining chair, cross-legged, a math workbook spread open in front of her. Tapping her pencil with that frown of hers.

"Ughhh, Ash, this is literally the hardest thing ever," she groaned, scribbling something and then erasing it so hard the paper almost tore.

"Why do numbers even exist? Like, who made them up? Some dead guy? For what reason?"

I pulled out the vegetables from the bag, setting them on the counter. "Eat first, then I’ll help. It’ll make more sense when your brain isn’t starving."

She ignored that. "Do you know what’s crazy? I saw this video where someone said math isn’t even real, it’s just like... a human invention. So technically if I fail, it’s society’s fault. Not mine."

"Mm-hmm," I murmured, chopping onions, trying not to cry from both the sting and everything else weighing on me.

She didn’t stop. "Also, we had art today, and guess what? Taylor got paint on my sneakers. Like, the white ones you just got. And then Ms. Brown said it was ’just an accident’ but hello? Those were LIMITED EDITION. And now they look like trash."

I clenched my jaw, knife hitting the cutting board louder than necessary. My head was buzzing. Between child services ambushing us at school, Mrs. Torres’s face, and the way Alia’s eyes had filled with tears when they tried to question her. I was spiraling again.

"And also," Alia kept going, kicking her foot, "everyone in my class is making slime again. And Emma said my hair smelled like oranges, which...first of all, thank you, because it’s the shampoo you bought me. But then she was like, ’That’s weird.’ Weird?! Like, since when is smelling good weird?"

"Alia." I turned, trying to keep my voice steady. She froze, blinking at me with wide eyes.

I forced a smile, softening. "Just... give me a few minutes to finish dinner, okay? I’ll help you after. For now, grab your sketchbook and draw something. Doesn’t matter what, just keep your hands busy."

She tilted her head like she was testing if I was serious, then finally nodded. "Okayyy. But I’m drawing Taylor getting attacked by a giant slime monster."

I shook my head and laughed. "Fine. As long as you don’t get paint on your sneakers again."

She grinned, slid off the chair, and went to dig for her sketchbook.

I turned back to the stove, trying to focus on the sizzle of oil, the rhythm of cooking....anything to quiet my head.

Just keep it together for her. One step at a time.

The onions hissed in the pan, filling the kitchen with that strong smell. My head still kept replaying everything from earlier, ’she needs a better home, I’m not enough for her’ when Alia’s voice broke the quiet.

"Hey, Ash?"

I glanced over. She was curled up on the chair, sketchbook on her lap, pencil moving fast across the page. Her voice was softer this time.

"When’s Mommy gonna wake up?"

I froze mid stir. The spoon clattered against the side of the pan.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Before I could even try, there was a sharp knock on the door.

Phew! Saved by the knock. Or maybe cursed by it.

"I’ll get that," I muttered, wiping my palms against the filthy apron as I walked out of the kitchen. My hair was a mess, my shirt damp from the steam. Perfect. Just perfect.

I swung the door open....and froze.

Dominic.

His tall frame filled the doorway, those blue eyes locked on me. My heart did a double flip.

For one second, every muscle in my body relaxed.

He was here. He actually came.

I was so relieved. But then panic slid in right behind it...panic at how badly I wanted him here, how easy it was to crumble the second I saw his face.

"Dominic?" My voice cracked like I hadn’t seen him in years. "What are you...what are you doing here?"

He tilted his head, mouth quirking into that crooked grin that always gave me butterflies. "What, I’m not welcome?"

"No, no, I didn’t mean...come on in." I grabbed his arm and dragged him inside before my neighbors start their gossiping.

God, I probably looked insane..hair sticking up, apron stained with tomato sauce, face flushed from the stove.

Dominic, of course, looked like he’d just stepped out of some glossy magazine ad. Except he was holding two paper bags.

"Where’s my favorite girl?" he called out.

"Dominic!"

Alia’s squeal shook the apartment. She shot off the chair, her pencil flew out of her hand, and launched herself at him.

He dropped the bags just in time to catch her, lifting her off the ground like she weighed nothing.

"There she is!" he laughed, spinning her once. "My partner in crime. What have you been up to, huh? Still wild hun?"

"Always," she grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You disappeared, but now you’re here. I forgive you."

"Forgive me? I should be begging. That’s why I brought peace offerings." He winked, tapping her nose. "Snacks. Bribes. Maybe candy."

Her eyes widened. "Candy? Before dinner? Ash would KILL you. He says sugar makes me act crazy..::"

"You don’t need sugar for that," I muttered, shaking my head.

"See?" She pointed at me like she’d won an argument. "See, even he admits it."

Dominic laughed so hard he nearly dropped her. "God, I missed you."

I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter, fighting a smile I couldn’t stop. The room had shifted in seconds.....Dominic had dragged sunlight in with him.

You better have," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck again. "You’re like, my second brother. But hotter."

"ALIA!" My entire face became red. "What the hell.."

She just cackled, eyes gleaming with pure menace. "What? It’s true. You’re both handsome, but he has the jawline."

Dominic smirked at me over her shoulder, smug as hell. "Can’t argue with that."

I covered my face with my hand.

Dominic dropped the bags on the counter and rolled up his sleeves.

"Alright, chef," he said, bumping my shoulder with his. "What’s on the menu?"

"You just got in. You don’t have to help," I smiled, brushing my hand against his.

"I want to, please." He gave me those puppy eyes, dragging the knife from my hands.

"Fine. You can chop the tomatoes if you’re feeling brave."

"Ughhh," he scoffed, twirling the knife like some action hero before nearly nicking his finger. "Shit...okay, fine. I’ll behave."

I laughed and stirred the pot while he clumsily got to work.

For a few minutes, it felt romantic.

His arm brushing mine, the warm kitchen with the smell of onions, his quiet humming blending with the hiss of the stove.

Dominic was halfway through chopping tomatoes when a voice shrieked from the living room.

"DOMINIC!"

He froze mid chop. "Uh oh."

I smirked, stirring the pot. "That’s your problem now."

She came stomping in, with a pencil behind her ear. "Kitchen break is canceled. You’re helping me with math."

He looked between me and her, holding a half chopped tomato. "Uh, I’m kinda..."

"Please," she gave him the adorable ’I can’t resist’ puppy eyes.

Dominic threw me a helpless look. "I really can’t resist, she’s so cute."

"Go," I said, waving him off. "I don’t need you bleeding in here anyway."

He wiped his hands, then let Alia drag him by the wrist into the living room, muttering about numbers.

I heard chairs scraping, paper flipping, her little voice bossing him around.

"Okay, so listen," Alia started. "Jayden left Violet for a new girl. Can you believe it? Violet was crying in the bathroom, and I told her ’girl, don’t cry, he was ugly anyway.’ But then she said the new girl brings home made food, and I’m like, yeah, but still..."

Dominic chuckled softly. "Hold on, are we doing math or gossip hour?"