Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
People often described Nikita as special.
I didn’t love that, but I also didn’t hate it. Kit was special, just not in the way they meant it.
And just because they’d never met another like him, it didn’t make him singular or unique.
I preferred the term exceptional.
I caught myself smiling. I couldn’t seem to help it when I watched him. And that smile grew as I caught the way he moved his glass three inches away from his plate.
No more, no less.
Three inches.
I was amazed at my son’s ability to move forward. Yes, he had frequent episodes, but once they were over, they were forgotten. Done and dusted. And, like Lev, he would learn to adapt.
He would have to, because although things had changed and society was much more understanding of neurodiverse people, the world did not stop for them.
It broke my heart to know he would struggle. I hated that no matter how much we did, how much we taught, how much he learned, it might not be enough to make life simpler for him.
Luckily, he had a family who understood the person he was and loved him unconditionally. He also had an older sister who would kick the shit of any little asshole who dared to mess with her beloved brother.
Every single one of us turned to look at the baby monitor when the gentle coos of our youngest sounded. All at once, Vik, Mila, and I moved to get up, but as usual, Mila was the fastest. Vik and I shared a look before he chuckled under his breath. My smile grew at the way our eldest nurtured her siblings.
It didn’t take long for Mila to return with our newest addition. With sticky sweetness, I observed as she kissed Yulia’s little head, then quietly giggled to herself, bunching her face as the baby’s hair tickled her nose.
She spoke softly, in awe, “She’s so fuzzy.” Mila glanced over at me with a look that told me she couldn’t handle the cuteness. “Like a kiwi.”
Dear Lord.
Mila brought her sister over to the table, holding her gently but firmly like we’d taught her.
Vik leaned over to run a soft hand over our youngest’s little head, pressing a tender kiss behind her ear.
Nikita blinked across the table at his sisters, his lips tipping up at one side. Not quite a smile, but a show of his adoration nonetheless.
And when I brought the extremely buttered toast over to my husband, his arm slid around my waist, holding me to him as I quietly observed our growing brood.
My smile soft. My heart full. A sudden thought shot through me.
We hadn’t done too badly after all.
That smile grew a little, and my heart warmed immeasurably.
Not bad for the wild, irresponsible, and reckless.
Sure, the scenic route took longer. But the view was absolutely incredible.
The End.