Relative issues (On hold)

Chapted 0.

It was a beautiful summer evening. One of those nights when it never gets cold and the clouds are apricot coloured and fluffy. I was in the kitchen making dinner, eavesdropping on Kennedy who was singing to Smith who cooed in content as he slowly dozed off. Surprisingly, Kennedy had a pretty nice voice. It certainly wasn't professional but it was clean and soothing.

Smith was either impossible to put to sleep or he fell asleep in a second. Thankfully, this evening he seemed to be falling asleep easily. Kennedy kissed our baby's forehead as he hummed, slowly walking toward our bedroom where the crib was temporarily stationed.

Soon enough, he came back out empty-handed and snuck up behind me, wrapping his slender arms around my waist as he put his head on my shoulder.

"What're you making?"

"Peanut sauce chicken skewers and fried rice," I said and leaned back against him. He smelled like milk formula and baby drool, a scent I had grown accustomed to during the past few weeks.

"Did Micah request that?" Kennedy asked.

"Well, no. But I know he likes it." Kennedy kissed my cheek before he pulled away and reached for a glass in the cupboard. "You need to shave..." I murmured as the sensation of his scruff pricking my skin remained in my face.

"I know, I know..." he chuckled. "It just grows so fast it feels like I have to shave every few hours..."

"It grows so fast yet you can't grow a full beard..." I teased.

"So mean..." Kennedy pouted and began rubbing his scruffy chin against my neck, a very unpleasant and prickly feeling. I was lucky I wasn't too ticklish. Had he done it to Micah, he would've doubled over in discomfort and probably growled. When I didn't react, Kennedy pulled away and leaned over my shoulder to look at what I was doing. "You need any help?" He asked before he filled the glass he had taken from the cupboard with water.

"I should be alright, but you could set the table if you want."

He nodded as he took a long sip, sweeping the water in one go before putting the glass down with a refreshed sigh. Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out three plates.

"Hey, when's Micah getting back?" He asked as he set the table.

"Probably in twenty minutes or so."

The kitchen of our house was small but spacious and open, a theme that dictated the layout of the house. It was modern and let in lots of natural light which in the summer evening painted our walls the same apricot colour that covered the sky. I took a deep breath. The windows were open, letting the warm breeze in. It smelled fresh, the scent of nature mixing with the peanut sauce I was making. Some children were laughing and playing with a ball down the street, their cheerful voices travelling with the wind. I smiled contently, it was a happy place to live in.

A white car slowly drove past our house. I didn't think much of it. Lots of people lived in the neighbourhood so cars driving by was not a rarity. But it didn't take long for the car to back up and stop in front of our house. It stood there for a solid two minutes with the engine running, unmoving from the spot. From my spot in the kitchen, I could hear the loud music that played inside the car. An unpleasant feeling crept up my spine.

Suddenly, the engine and the music went quiet. The car door opened and out stepped a slender woman with long dark hair. She wore large sunglasses and carried a tan fringed bag. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach upon seeing her from the kitchen window. She looked the same as she had seven years ago when I last saw her at my grandparents' funeral.