It was already eight-something by the time Lyra finally made it back to her own house. She had barely half a breath left after walking all the way from Miss Tina's house while carrying Ion, who was getting heavier by the minute—not to mention the toddler-supply bag hanging from her shoulder.
"Oh my gosh, is this handsome little guy coming home with Auntie Yaa?!" Mom exclaimed as she emerged from the kitchen, her eyes lighting up at the toddler in her daughter's arms.
In the living room, Dad was watching TV and merely gave Lyra a cold sidelong glance, making no move to greet her. His sour expression was still perfectly in place—the leftover pride from their fan-related cold war earlier that afternoon.
"Nice. You finally remembered to come home at this hour. Out all day long," Dad muttered, his voice low but sharp, deliberately loud enough for her to hear.
Lyra let out a tired breath, choosing to pretend she hadn't heard him rather than engage and trigger another fight. Her dad never changed; he always found a way to slip a jab into every possible occasion.
Understanding the situation, Mom quickly patted Dad's shoulder and whispered a warning. "That's enough, Dad... Have some shame in front of the little one. Don't start again." Then Mom turned her attention elsewhere, trying to lighten the mood. "Ales has another meeting, huh, Ra?"
"Yeah, Mom. An interior-design project for a café," Lyra replied shortly as she leaned her back against the sofa and stretched out her aching legs.
Dad, who was actually curious, finally glanced at Ion clinging tightly to Lyra's chest. "Ales has a real job. You can see the results. Not like someone who just stares at her phone all day," Dad fired back, delivering one last stinging remark before getting to his feet and shuffling into his bedroom without saying goodbye.
Lyra's chest throbbed painfully, but she patiently rubbed it.
"Poor thing, Ion's exhausted, Ra. Don't take what your dad said to heart," Mom said sympathetically, trying to cover for her husband.
"All right, Ra, Mom's going to bed first. If you need anything, just grab it from the kitchen."
"Got it, Mom."
Once both of her parents had gone into their bedroom, the house suddenly fell silent. Lyra carried Ion to her room so the toddler could lie down comfortably.
This little guy really refused to let go. When Lyra tried to stand for a moment to turn on the fan, Ion's tiny hands immediately tugged at the hem of her culottes as he whined.
"Auntie Yaa... no go! Stay here!"
"Okay, sweetheart. Auntie is just turning on the fan," Lyra coaxed with a small laugh before sitting back down with her legs stretched out.
Ion immediately climbed onto Lyra's thighs and rested his head, fragrant with telon oil, right against the girl's chest. Then, all of a sudden, his chubby fingers gently tugged at the tacky floral scrunchie Ales had given Lyra until it came loose. Lyra's hair instantly spilled down in a messy heap.
Before Lyra could protest, Ion seriously tried to put the floral scrunchie on a few strands of his own thin hair. Since his hands were still clumsy, the scrunchie got stuck crookedly on top of his head, making his hair stick up strangely like an alien antenna.
Ion then looked up at Lyra, his innocent face overflowing with pride. "Auntie Yaa, look... Ion's a bunny!"
The moment Lyra saw his hairstyle, she let out a soft burst of laughter. "What kind of bunny is that, sweetheart? It looks more like a TV antenna!"
"No! Pretty bunny!" Ion protested, giving Lyra's cheek a gentle pinch.
The girl laughed weakly until her shoulders shook. Overcome with affection, she peppered the toddler's entire face with kisses until Ion giggled helplessly.
"Hey, Ion..." Lyra gently patted his thigh, suddenly remembering something. "You made such a huge fuss about wanting fruit at the minimart earlier. Auntie bought it already—it's outside. Do you want to eat some now?"
Ion's eyes were growing heavier, and he immediately shook his head hard. Without another word, he quickly buried his entire face in Lyra's chest, rejecting the dragon fruit outright while tightening his tiny arms around her.
Lyra could only chuckle softly as she rubbed Ion's back. "What a brat... At the minimart, he acted like he hadn't eaten in a year, but the second I actually buy it for him, he refuses because he's sleepy," Lyra thought.
She couldn't get enough of her best friend's kid and his ridiculous antics.
Slowly, Lyra's laughter faded. The quiet of the room replaced the toddler's increasingly faint squirming. His breathing began to settle, warm air puffing against Lyra's shirt, a sign that he was almost on the edge of sleep.
Lyra lowered her head, gazing at Ion's long lashes and round cheeks resting helplessly against her chest. Moments of peace like this always managed to soften her heart. Remembering how Ales had to struggle to raise Ion alone after his wife died in childbirth, Lyra always felt a pang of pity in her chest. Ion was growing up without knowing what it felt like to be held by a mother, and his instinctive clinginess always made Lyra's heart warm and ache at the same time.
"You miss Daddy, huh, Ion?" Lyra asked gently, stroking his plump cheek.
Ion slowly shook his head, his sleepy eyes staring straight at Lyra. "No... I just want Auntie Yaa."
Lyra chuckled softly, a little surprised by the honest answer from the two-year-old. "Huh? Why's that? Daddy works so hard for you."
"Daddy's mean... Daddy holds his phone all day," Ion tattled haltingly in an adorably pouty voice. "Auntie Yaa hugs me... smells nice."
Lyra's chest gave a soft, sudden throb. She knew perfectly well that Ales wasn't a bad father—he loved his only child more than anything and always tried to be there. But circumstances forced Ales to divide his attention between his laptop, his clients, and Ion whenever he was home. Simple things like being hugged without distractions, having his back rubbed until he fell asleep, and the warm scent of a mother were things Ales couldn't provide, no matter how hard her friend tried.
"Stay with Auntie Yaa forever..." Ion chirped again. His chubby fingers clenched even tighter around the hem of Lyra's shirt, hiding his face there as though afraid Lyra would disappear the moment he fell asleep.
Lyra kissed the top of Ion's head, which smelled of telon oil, returning the little hug with all the warmth she had—warmth that, ironically, she rarely received from her own father in this house.
"Yeah, champ. Auntie's right here..." Lyra whispered, letting Ion finally drift into a deep sleep in the embrace he had always longed for.
At nine that night, Lyra's phone screen suddenly lit up with a video call from 'Big Boss.' Lyra swiped the green button, bringing Ales's face onto the screen. He was sitting in the dim interior of his car, his hair slightly mussed.
"Yo," Ales greeted her quietly, his hoarse voice coming clearly through the speaker. "Ion asleep? I just finished my meeting. I wanna see my kid for a minute."
"Of course he's asleep! It's almost nine," Lyra whispered, slowly angling her phone. "Besides, he complained earlier that you keep ignoring him because you're always holding your phone. Serves you right."
Ales laughed softly on the other end of the screen, his familiar deep chuckle making Lyra's chest flutter strangely. "Yeah, sorry... The client was a pain. Point the camera at Ion, will you? I wanna see him."
Lyra turned the rear camera toward Ion, who was clinging to her chest like a stamp. The little guy was sleeping soundly, his lips slightly parted and his chubby fingers still gripping the hem of Lyra's shirt tightly.
Ales's tired eyes immediately softened as he looked at the screen. "He's really attached to you, huh... Thanks, Ra."
"No problem. But my chocolate martabak manis is safe, right?" Lyra whispered quickly, trying to break the suddenly warm awkwardness.
Ales chuckled again and shook his head at his friend's antics. "It's safe on the passenger seat. All right, wait for me. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
The video call ended. Lyra stared at her phone as the screen went dark again, still smiling to herself without realizing it.
Twenty minutes later, the rumble of Ales's car engine came to a stop in front of the gate. Not long after, a soft knock sounded at the front door.
Lyra moved as quickly as she could. With extreme care, she loosened Ion's chubby fingers from the hem of her shirt and replaced it with the corner of a small blanket. Once she had freed herself without waking the little guy, Lyra hurried out of her room and opened the front door.
Ales was standing behind it, leaning against the doorframe. He had taken off his leather jacket, leaving him in a slightly wrinkled black T-shirt, and his face plainly showed how hard he was trying to hide his exhaustion. But his eyes lit up the instant he held out a warm plastic bag in his right hand.
"Special chocolate martabak manis with extra chocolate, just as Her Highness ordered," Ales whispered, his raspy voice barely holding back a laugh.
"Perfect! My best friend is so smart," Lyra said cheerfully, snatching the plastic bag with sparkling eyes. "Come in. Your kid is passed out on my bed."
Ales quietly followed Lyra toward the bedroom. But the moment he crossed the threshold, his eyes widened slightly. He instinctively swept his gaze around Lyra's room, which had suddenly begun to resemble the aftermath of a localized disaster. Sheets of planner-design drafts were scattered across the carpet, the laptop was still on in the corner of the desk, and his tacky floral scrunchie lay helplessly on the floor.
Ales held back a laugh and looked at Lyra with one eyebrow raised. "Is this a girl's room or an archive, Ra? It's a total mess."
"Oh, shut up! That's what's left of the work drafts I was doing this morning! I was going to clean up, but your kid's been glued to me and wouldn't let go. I only managed to get free when you showed up!" Lyra whispered sharply, glaring at him and making Ales only chuckle silently.
Ales then knelt beside the bed. The dim room welcomed him with the scent of telon oil mixed with Lyra's familiar perfume. The tension in Ales's eyes from dealing with work instantly melted away as he looked at his son, sleeping soundly on his back with his lips slightly parted.
He reached out and gently smoothed Ion's bangs, which were damp with sweat.
"Good boy," Ales murmured as quietly as possible. Then he turned toward Lyra, who was standing beside the bed with the martabak in her hands. "Sorry, Ra... You had to deal with this kid tonight because of me. Thanks so much."
Lyra fell silent for a moment. The sincere tone and warm gaze from the guy in front of her slipped past every defense, making her lips instinctively curve into a small smile without Ales noticing. It felt incredibly strange hearing Ales—usually so thoughtless and blunt—suddenly speak so gently.
But unwilling to get caught and feeling awkward, Lyra hurriedly wiped the smile off her face and deliberately put on an exaggeratedly irritated expression.
"What's with you, Les? Hearing you say thanks is giving me the ick!" Lyra babbled quietly, trying to control her expression. "You act like we're strangers. Besides, you're always making a habit of bothering me anyway, so don't try to be all sweet now. You still look like a zombie."
Ales let out a rich laugh and shook his head at his flustered friend, who was busy defending herself. Slowly and very carefully, he slipped his hands beneath Ion's body and gathered the toddler into his arms. Ion let out a soft moan and rested his head on Ales's shoulder, but didn't wake up.
"I'm heading home," Ales whispered as he adjusted Ion in his arms. "Finish the martabak. Don't leave any."
"Don't worry, there won't be any left!" Lyra whispered back.
Lyra walked Ales to the front door. After making sure Ales had safely placed Ion inside the car, Lyra gave a brief wave until the black car disappeared around the corner.
Lyra went back inside, locked the door, then sat at the dining table and opened her warm martabak. In the middle of her first sweet bite, images of Ales's tired face, Ion's innocent smile, and her father's cold jabs flashed through her mind one after another.
Lyra slowly shook her head as she chewed her martabak, smiling faintly to herself in the dim kitchen. Tomorrow would definitely bring another new commotion—whether from Dad or from Ales and Ion's ridiculous antics. But for tonight, this one sweet bite was enough to bring her long day to a close.
**** To be continued!