“Thank you again for contacting me last night,” Ian, Kichi’s father, told me. “It’s scary to think of how often she falls asleep while traveling alone.”

It was sometime around nine o’clock in the morning and I had come to Kichi’s house after ensuring her father got her home the night before. I couldn’t help myself. Even though I had no reason to feel anxious, I started to feel that way after we separated at the train station. I barely slept, and even after my shower, Kichi’s sweet scent clung to me.

“You haven’t eaten yet, I hope?” Ian asked, breaking my train of thought.

Eat? I’d never get up this early if I didn’t have work or had to work out, let alone have breakfast.

“No.”

“Good. I just finished making breakfast.”

“Smells delicious.”

“I wake up early to bake goods for my shop and have breakfast prepare for Kichi,” he explained his routine. “She should get up soon.”

As I sat there around the Hyde’s table, my thoughts drifted to the orphanage where I grew up, and the hectic but joyful mornings Milana and the rest of the staff had as they attempted to settle everybody down for breakfast.

When was the last time I had a homemade meal?

“Kichi commutes to college from her?” I asked him.

“Yes. It’s in town, so travelling isn’t difficult. And she gets to monitor me. She worries about me, even though she doesn’t have to. But I guess that’s what happens when you lose one of your parents.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I knew nothing would change even if I said something, and besides, I loathed depressing talk like this.

Instead, I turned my attention to the mushroom, bell pepper, jalapeno egg white omelette he served me. He had sprinkled fresh cilantro on top and added tomato salsa on the side. He also served the dish with raisin bread, and it was absolute perfection. After one bite, I couldn’t stop eating.

“This is good!” I told him, my taste buds exploding with each bite.

“Thanks. Baking and making omelettes are my specialities.” Ian took a bite of his food and when he swallowed, he said, “I’m surprised Kichi is still asleep.”

I chuckled. It embarrassed me how such small words had the power to flutter my heart. “She is tired,” I offered.

“I’m sure. She often overdoes things. I’m thankful for her help, but she needs to focus more on herself. I don’t want Kichi to think my passion should be hers too, that’s why I am happy she went for the interview yesterday.”

I looked away from him, my gaze falling on freshly baked goods on the table between us. Kichi’s father did not make me nervous, per se, but I worried he might pick up on my desire for his daughter.

“She watches you on TV,” Ian continued. “So I know it’s a big deal for her, meeting you.”

“Is that so?”

I shifted anxiously. I could sense something, a question, burning at the back of Ian’s throat. I stared at the slim, middle-aged man, who had notable wrinkles under his eyes, who wore his black hair short with a beard.

What was it? What do you want to say?

“Celebrities like you, especially so young, usually fall under pressure and give in to the negativity that comes with fame, which sadly influences their fans. I don’t want that for Kichi.”

I set my fork aside and stared at him. “Kichi doesn’t strike me as a follower.”

“Perhaps. But based on what I saw last night at the station…”

My flesh turned hot. Why was my heart beating so fast suddenly?

“I don’t know the nature of your relationship with my daughter. But from the way she clung to you last night, not wanting you to leave her side. That’s rare for her. Because of the way she is—she has been selective in letting people close. It’s her way of protecting herself.”

Because of the way she is…

“You know?” I asked him without batting an eye.

“That my daughter likes girls?” Ian grinned, apparently amused. Or was he embarrassed? He scratched his hair. “I raised her.”

Interesting.

“Excuse me for saying this, but I know parents who crumble to shame when they find out their child fancies a partner of the same sex. Your acceptance of her lifestyle seems unusual to me.”

Ian’s gaze fell. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Honestly, I think I always knew on some level that she will become this way. Guess you could say I had time to prepare myself.”

I could feel the shape of my eyebrows deepened as I studied Ian. “You are not, are you?” I questioned.

“Her mother.” He must have seen the wheels turning in my head because Ian added, “It’s not complicated, at least I don’t think so. But it’s a long story.”

It was always either of those things.

“You accept her as she is?” I asked.

“Don’t I have to?”

“No,” I answered.

“The world will criticise and hate her enough, and it’s hard for any father to hate their child. I honestly would rather she had a boyfriend, but that will not happen.”

“Does she know you know?”

Ian laughed. “She’d get mortified if she did.”

“Why did you tell me?”

“Why, you ask? Perhaps…”

I waited a while for him to continue, but he stayed quiet. As I was about to say something, the sound of a bell ringing interrupted me.

Ian looked towards the direction the sound came from. “Looks like this girl finally decided not to show up today.”

“Girl?”

“I have a part-timer. She does everything except work most times. She should have already been here.” He looked at his watch as the bell rang again. “I have to go downstairs.”

“Of course. Thank you for breakfast,” I said.

“You’re welcome,” he said, then headed to the stairs. Then he turned to face me again. “Do something for me, will you?”