SOLID GROUND

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"Promise me, Kenneth. Promise me, you'll do you, always. I love you; she'll love you just the way you are. "

Kenneth's eyes opened in one shot.

Was it a dream?

No, it was the echo of Monday's words. The words repeated since the midwife placed his daughter in his arms.

Monday's courage forced Kenneth's and Luce's admiration.

Luce cried like no one that night; her woman-child cousin was a mother. While Luce prepped to become the best aunt ever, Kenneth endorsed the only role where he couldn't pretend to play it cool.

Two months later, Kenneth still held.

The cry was a mere whisper in the baby's phone, but he was up.

Ryleigh smiled when she saw her father's figure above her cradle. Her face changed daily, just like the color of her hair, which glistened with a hint of ginger when the sun highlighted her head.

Kenneth checked her diaper before covering her with the quilt on his shoulder and went to the kitchen. Monday alternated between breastfeeding and the bottle, making feeding not just her preoccupation. Kenneth prepared the formula with Ryleigh in his arms. It was their moment; he appreciated this time alone with his child. Kenneth added a cover around Ryleigh, opened the bay door, and stepped outside. He left his slippers behind and walked on the cold and prickly grass. Unlike Monday and most babies, Kenneth liked the sensation of grass under his feet, but above all, he loved how, with one step, he found himself on solid ground.

Until he met Monday, Kenneth spent time defying himself in every way, becoming his arch-enemy. He thought every decision he made improved him, while some, on the contrary, locked him up in a never-ending psychosis. He lived in height like a king in his castle with the fear of falling and failing. His simple life became filled with a complicated routine Kenneth didn't even realize strained him. The workaholic forgot how to appreciate life and the failures that were part of it.

"Why did you choose this house?"

"Because there are no heights, no stakes, or challenges. One can touch what they aim to reach. Thus, there's no disappointment in just being lucid and rewarded for simple actions," Monday had replied before tapping Kenneth on the head with Ryleigh's little comb one night.

Kenneth felt as though he lived a lucid dream. Everything was real but so much better than he could imagine. Every instant was a treasure for the man cherished. The words that came to mind when he thought of Monday's house in Annecy were cozy home.

The only sounds around him were the chirping birds and Ryleigh sucking on her bottle. Kenneth walked until she finished and sat in one of the chairs. His mind drifted back to Ryleigh's birth night and the panic he felt before entering the living room where Monday had given birth. If only Kenneth could write a letter to his former self. He would tell himself not to waste time and that the best things in life were on their way.

Ryleigh slept, her body kept Kenneth's warm. The dad marveled in front of her little self. Weightless and fragile, she was no longer a notion but a living being named Ryleigh Mosely. She was his daughter. Yes, Kenneth was just a man like any other guru status put aside, swooning over his little princess, and Monday saw him as he was.

Even then, as Monday watched him kiss his child's hand from the kitchen, she knew Kenneth would drive her up the wall in the days, months, and perhaps years to come. They would probably bicker as they did for Ryleigh's name or other stupid things, but that was what life, couples, and love were about.

"What are you doing, Kenneth?" Monday asked.

Kenneth looked up and smiled, "I'm waiting for my favorite movie."

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