12. Rendal

CHAPTER 12

Rendal

I stand in the kitchen, the savory aroma of roasting chicken filling the air. My hands move on autopilot, chopping vegetables for a salad while my mind races with thoughts of Chloe. The sound of little feet pattering across the floor pulls me back to reality.

"Daddy, can I help?" Zola asks, her big blue eyes looking up at me expectantly.

"Sure thing, sweetheart. How about you set the table?"

She nods eagerly and scampers off to grab the plates. I can't help but chuckle as I watch her carefully carry each dish to the dining room, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

"Hey, Zo," I call out. "What do you call a fake noodle?"

She pauses, tilting her head in confusion. "I don't know, Daddy. What?"

"An impasta!" I deliver the punchline with a grin.

Zola groans dramatically, but I catch the smile tugging at her lips. "That's so bad, Daddy!"

"Oh yeah? I've got more where that came from. What do you call a sad strawberry?"

She rolls her eyes, but plays along. "What?"

"A blueberry!"

This time, she can't hold back her giggles. "You're so silly, Daddy!"

As we continue our back-and-forth of terrible jokes, the kitchen fills with laughter and the comforting sounds of meal preparation. Zola helps me add in some toppings for the salad, like croutons and cherry tomatoes. Then, she wipes her hands on my apron once she's finished.

"Alright, chef Zola," I say, ruffling her hair. "Time for the finishing touches. Can you put these colorful napkins on the table?"

She nods seriously, taking her job as my assistant very seriously. I watch her carefully arrange each napkin, making sure they're perfectly straight.

As the time for Chloe and Penelope's arrival draws near, I feel a surge of pride in my body. I want everything to be perfect, and so far, it's turning out to be just that. This dinner feels like more than just a meal—it's a chance to bring our families closer together.

I check my reflection in the kitchen window, smoothing down my shirt and running a hand through my hair. The timer dings, signaling that the chicken is ready.

"Zo, they'll be here soon. You ready to be the best host ever?"

She gives me a thumbs up, her excitement palpable. As I pull the golden-brown chicken from the oven, I can't help but smile. Whatever happens tonight, I know one thing for sure – with Zola by my side, it's bound to be an evening full of love and laughter.

A notification vibrates my phone. It's Chloe, telling me that they've arrived and are coming up the porch now. I open the door, and Chloe's smile is radiant. I can't help but return it with equal warmth.

"Welcome! Come on in," I say, stepping aside to let them enter.

Penelope barely waits for an invitation before darting past me, calling out for Zola. The sound of their excited chatter fills the house almost immediately.

Chloe laughs, shaking her head. "Well, I guess we know where we stand in the pecking order."

"Can't compete with best friends," I agree, chuckling. "Come on, let's head to the kitchen. I've got a few things left to do."

As we walk, I catch a whiff of Chloe's perfume—her usual light, floral scent that makes me want to lean in close and never let her go. I resist the urge, focusing instead on the task at hand.

In the kitchen, Chloe immediately rolls up her sleeves. "What can I do to help?"

"You don't have to—" I start, but she cuts me off with a playful swat to my arm.

"Don't even try it, Rendal. I'm here, I'm helping."

I laugh, holding my hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. How about you finish the salad while I check on the bread?"

We fall into an easy rhythm, moving around each other in the kitchen as if we've done this a hundred times before.

"So," Chloe says, tossing the salad, "how was your day? Any exciting software emergencies?"

I snort, pulling the bread out of the oven. "Oh, you know, just the usual. Fixing bugs, putting out fires. Nothing I can't handle."

"My hero," she teases, her eyes twinkling.

As I set the bread on the cooling rack, I can't help but marvel at how natural this feels. Chloe's presence seems to brighten up the entire room, making everything feel warmer and more alive. The way she moves, the sound of her voice, the little smile she gives me when she catches me looking—it all fills me with a deep sense of contentment.

"What?" she asks, noticing my gaze.

I shake my head, smiling. "Nothing. Just... happy you're here."

Her cheeks flush slightly, and she ducks her head, but I can see the pleased smile on her face. "Me too," she says softly.

Eventually, we manage to wrangle the girls and plop them down for dinner. The dining room is filled with the clinking of utensils and the warm aroma of our meal, but it's the sound of their laughter that really makes the evening special.

"And then," Zola says, gesticulating wildly with her fork, "Ms. Johnson told us we could paint anything we wanted! So I made a big purple dragon eating ice cream!"

Penelope giggles, nearly choking on her water. "That sounds so cool! I wish I could see it."

"Maybe we can have an art day soon," Chloe suggests, giving me a quick glance. I nod in agreement, already imagining the chaos—and fun—that would ensue.

I catch Chloe's eye across the table. Her cheeks are flushed from the wine, her eyes bright with mirth. We share a warm, amused smile, and I feel a surge of connection between us. In this moment, surrounded by the girls' giggles and the cozy atmosphere of our shared meal, I realize how right this feels. How natural. How much like home.

Dinner passes by quickly. Zola and Penelope are far more excited to run off and play than eat their vegetables—and honestly, I can't even blame them. That leaves Chloe and I to do clean-up together.

But I don't mind. It gives us some alone time, something we rarely get with our kids racing around. She puts leftovers away into the fridge while I handle dishes.

Once I'm done, I pull away from the sink, drying my hands on a nearby towel. The sound of the girls' laughter echoes from Zola's room, bringing a smile to my face. Turning to Chloe, I catch her eyes.

"Thanks for helping," I say, moving closer to her.

She smiles, reaching for another plate. "It's the least I can do after that amazing meal."

As she stretches to put the plate away, I step behind her, placing my hands on either side of her against the counter. The scent of her perfume envelops me, making my head spin.

"Chloe," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

She turns, looking up at me with those beautiful green eyes that never fail to take my breath away. The kitchen suddenly feels electric, charged with unspoken feelings and desires. The air between us crackles with tension, and I can't hold back anymore.

Without thinking, I lean in, closing the gap between us. My large hand cups her cheek as I capture her lips with mine, savoring the softness and warmth. It's like a dam breaking, all our pent-up emotions rushing out in this one perfect moment.

The world around us fades away as Chloe responds, wrapping her arms around my neck and deepening the kiss. Her lips are soft and warm against mine, and I can taste the hint of wine from dinner. My hands move to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss intensifies.

Time seems to stand still as we lose ourselves in the moment. The warmth of Chloe's body against mine, the gentle pressure of her lips, the way her fingers tangle in my hair – it all feels perfect.

When we finally break apart, both slightly breathless, I rest my forehead against hers. Chloe's cheeks are flushed, her eyes sparkling with joy and something more – a promise of what could be.

"Wow," she breathes, a smile playing on her lips.

I chuckle softly, running my thumb along her cheek. "Yeah, wow."

She glances around the kitchen, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Well, uh… I think that's everything," Chloe says, her voice soft and a little breathless.

I nod, wanting nothing more than to lean in again. We stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, neither of us wanting to break the spell.

The sound of running feet breaks the silence as Zola and Penelope burst into the kitchen, giggling and out of breath.

"Mommy, can we stay a little longer?" Penelope asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

Chloe glances at her watch and then at me. "It's getting late, sweetie. We should probably head home."

"Come back anytime," I say, sending her a knowing look that she matches with one of her own.

"We will," she promises. "We won't stay away for long."

Good , I think to myself, watching with half-lidded eyes as Chloe and Penelope take their leave. Because I want her here every day of the week.