Kim's POV
"It's pretty hilarious," Y/n remarked, struggling to contain their laughter.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm dating a child," I mused.
"When you turned 18, I was 5, I think," Y/n teased.
"Shut up," I playfully retorted, tossing a pillow in his direction.
"This is serious," I insisted.
"If it's stressing you out that much, I'll talk to him. Relax," Y/n reassured me.
"I just don't wanna break his little heart; he loves you so much," I expressed my concern.
"Sainty is a big boy; I'm sure he'll understand. Don't worry about it, I got it," Y/n comforted me.
......
Y/n's POV
Okay- how was I going to explain to a six-year-old that he couldn't call me "dad" because his real dad could be difficult at times? Why did I agree to handle this conversation? I usually left the moral lessons to Ryan when it came to the twins.
My own father had always been awkward with talks like these, and maybe that's why I struggled with them too.
"Sainty?" I called.
"I'm here, Dad," he responded, and I couldn't help but smile at the endearing term.
"Let me talk to you real quick," I said, lifting him up, which made him squeal with delight. I guided us up to his room, thinking that if I was going to fumble through this conversation, it should happen in private.
"Okay, so... uhm," I began, placing him on his bed.
"Is it about me calling you dad?" Saint asked.
"Yeah, actually," I replied.
"Do you not like it?" he inquired.
"Nah, big man, it's not like that. It's just... you already have a dad, and I don't think he'd like hearing you call me that," I explained.
"Why?" Saint wondered.
"Because you're his little boy," I answered.
"But I'm your big man," he argued.
"Okay, so, you see how Mason calls me Uncle Y/n?" I asked, and he nodded.
"It's because Scott is his dad, and since I'm not, he calls me uncle," I clarified.
"So I call you uncle?" Saint asked, seeking understanding, and I nodded.
Saint was determined. "No, I like 'dad' more. I'll call you dad," he insisted.
I sighed softly, trying to explain. "Buddy, you'll get me in trouble with your dad. Your real dad loves you a lot, and he'll be sad that you call me dad."
"But I love you a lot. Won't you be sad that I don't call you that?" Saint countered.
"I know, buddy, and I'll be a little sad, but I'm a big boy just like you. I won't be sad a lot," I reassured him.
"Okay," he mumbled, clearly conflicted.
I felt guilty, but I didn't want to complicate things with Kanye. We had been getting along well, even recording a song for Donda together, and he had been in contact with me frequently.
We were friends?
I didn't want to jeopardize that. Plus, I didn't want him to prevent me from seeing his kids or cause problems with Kim.
"How about we go play soccer outside?" I suggested.
Saint shook his head. "No, I'm going to Psalm," he said, sliding off the bed and running out of his bedroom. Now, I felt genuinely remorseful.
