Raising Riven

Hayden

Hayden
How′s Riven?
2:21 PM

Do you need me to come over? I can babysit.
2:23 PM

Have you fed him?
2:46 PM

I guess you′re busy. Can I come over this evening?
3:04 PM

I′m coming. I′ll bring takeout for us and swing by Whole Foods to get some milk.
3:07 PM

Declan
Last seen at 8:06 AM

″Castiel.″ Hayden bristled at the grit in his supervisor′s voice. He turned his cellphone to lie face-first on the desk, glancing over his desktop monitor at his boss, Morgan.

″Yes, Mr. Myers?″ Hayden cringed at the submission in his voice.

″Save the slave′s voice for your boyfriend, kid. I′m your boss, not your daddy.″

Hayden knitted his brows, stunned into awkward silence. Morgan, even at fifty-three, could have fit the label. His hard, chocolate eyes, matching skin and charisma could captivate a man as youthful as himself. Except, none of the usual kindness that shone in his eyes since Hayden joined the firm lingered today.

″Look, son.″ He heaved a sigh, leaning against the desk. Hayden sensed an undertone of pity to Morgan′s gravelly voice. ″I got to talking with the board members last week.″

He felt a lump form against his Adam′s apple. ″Fergus?″ Despite never having met Luke Fergus in person, Hayden had acquired a strong distaste for the man. He had cancelled Christmas leave the previous year and denied overtime wages. He′d later learnt that Luke was short for Lucifer.

Morgan nodded grimly. He seemed reluctant to finish. It didn′t matter － his face said it all. ″Mr. Myers,″ said Hayden, straining to keep his voice from cracking. His firm had pulled the rug on him, like all the good things in his life that had decided to leave him behind. ″Are you letting me go?″

My boss scratched the stubble on the base of his chin, weighing his words delicately before he delivered the final verdict. ″Hayden,″ he said finally; throughout Hayden′s service at the firm, he had never once called him by his first name. ″I′m sorry.″

Hayden felt the lump in his throat harden, like clay to edged glass. Never mind the suffocating jab of pain; at least it held back the sob that rose in his throat. Morgan patted his shoulder, muttering some half-assed words about how it was the firm′s loss. Before stalking away, he added, ″Consider this your week′s notice, kid.″

One week. He had a week to find a new job in Manhattan. Hayden bit his tongue, tasting blood. At this rate, he′d need to work overtime at a chicken factory. And then it hit him like a bullet to the chest. Riven.

Declan and him had co-raised the baby for almost a week, splitting the expenses on most accounts, but being the one with a steady wage, Hayden had chosen to pay for the one-off investments, like the cot and Riven′s first plush toy － a cotton and PVC rabbit named Ruby.

Short for Rhubarb, Declan had chimed, as they sat admiring their shared baby in his cot on Monday evening. Reminiscing brought a smile to Hayden′s face, albeit fleetingly. I need to see him, he thought. He reopened the tab on his desktop, expelling a sigh upon checking their chat.

Declan
Last seen at 8:06 AM

He sunk back into his chair, flopping back into misery. He stayed in that position for all of five minutes, by which time he had gotten tired of feeling sorry for himself. I′m going over anyway, he decided. Shutting down his computer, Hayden filled his out-tray with the few office items he valued － a coffee mug from the Bean Bottle, a painted rock paperweight back from when he had volunteered at a kindergarten and his calendar, on which he only ever had marked three dates. Well, four now.

July 4th, because he often forgot he didn′t have to show up at work. August 16th, Declan′s birthday. September 1st, because he often forgot his own birthday. September 9th, the day Riven came into their lives. Hayden didn′t know it then, but today was almost as significant as the aforementioned three － September 16th, the day he first had his heart broken.

* * *

Declan Scott is no more than a friend.

It had been Hayden′s mantra for months, if not years. On the metro ride to his block, however, a bag of takeout nestled uncomfortably between his legs on the small seat, overstuffed due to the promised milk carton, the notions that flooded his mind begged to differ. Hayden had never doubted his sexuality.

He, Hayden Castiel, was straight. Fairly curious, but straight. Why, then, did he feel his heart leap from his chest when Declan′s eyes met his? Why, oh why, did he feel shivers run across his spine and butterflies erupt in his stomach as Declan slid an arm around his shoulder?

Not to mention, the sudden urge to lean over their baby′s cot and kiss him whilst they played peek-a-boo. Their baby. Hayden shook the thought. His baby. Hayden was no more than a substitute parent. As soon as Declan found himself a smart, charismatic and worthy woman, he′d be out of the picture.

Hayden cast his eyes far out, watching the streets of downtown Manhattan flicker past. At the end of one particular street, he could just glimpse a lining of trees. Teardrop Park. Recalling their conversation on the bridge, it finally occurred to him why he had been so harsh on assessing Declan′s failed relationships.

Did you love her? he′d shot, feeling a slight tug in his chest. Hayden couldn′t care less about that bitch, Sierra. He′d only befriended her because she was dating his Declan and all she ever did was criticise his choices and force him to live up to her expectations.

Hayden almost threw up. All this time, he′d jabbed at Declan′s love life in the hopes that he would finally realise his needs had been met all along; that he′d known the love of his life almost his entire life. Hayden couldn′t make sense of his sexuality, but he sure as hell loved Declan Scott. His Declan.

Instead of guilt, he felt a swell of excitement in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he had given up on all those other relationships because he felt the same way. Hayden′s fingers drummed his lap in anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, Declan loved him too. Hayden had just lost his job. Surely there was a silver lining.

If his silver lining had dark, wavy hair, stunning caramel eyes and soft dimples that could melt his heart, Hayden could pay to get the sack all over again. As the train slowed to a stop, he shot up from his seat, feet carrying him faster than his mind raced, off the terminal and towards an all-to-familiar apartment.

But as he neared the fire escape, his eyes drifted to the main entrance and his feet froze. She stood at the door in a brown, leather trench coat and woolly boots, tip toeing on the last step to kiss the man whose arms curled tenderly around her waist.

In that moment, Hayden felt something within him shatter. He turned to flee, barely noticing the still-hot bag of takeout he′d let slip from his grip onto the sidewalk. He didn′t fully understand why, but tears stung his cheeks as he fought to erase the image from his mind.

Her name was Sierra Alvarez. His name was Declan Scott.