Letting Him Go

Chapter 1 - A Visit

"Miss Asia!"

The smell of pancakes fills the air around me as she pulls open the door, scolding the yapping puppy at her feet. My daughter squeals with excitement as the puppy is scooped up, sniffing the air curiously. The stovetop hisses over a lively jazz tune.

"Hi," she breathes.

She's stunning. She is small, her figure swallowed by a large white concert t-shirt, as she stands barefoot in the doorway. Her short hair falls in wisps around her small face, barely in a bun. A pair of light green eyes look up at me kindly, blinking with warmth and humility.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Wow...you are so beautiful." Her eyes dance up to my face and she smiles. I feel myself smiling back, and a light laugh escape my lips.

"Oh, thank you. As are you." My cheeks are burning. "This is Lea." I lean down and gently nudge my daughter forward.

"Hi Lea," she crouches down and reaches out her hand. "I'm Ste-fa-ni," she sounds out slowly. To my surprise, Lea reveals her favorite hair bow and places it in her hand. "Why, thank you!" Stefani's laugh is musical. The puppy in her arms squirms and licks Lea's face. They giggle.

"Come inside, please! We're making pancakes!" She sets the puppy down and it scrambles away, as she motions for us to follow. I watch her little bare feet pad down the hallway, and I immediately feel hot in my leather jeans and Burberry sweater. The smell of syrup welcomes me into the kitchen, and I feel myself relax. I feel at home.

Two hours have passed and we've flipped pancakes, shared coffee, and talked about anything other than our careers. My sweater is draped over the sofa and my boots are carelessly kicked across the living room carpet. I can't remember the last time I sat down to have breakfast. She is magical. The weight of any room seems to shift towards her— the way she speaks, and the way she listens with every ounce of genuinity is strangely comforting and a bit intimidating. Lea feels it too. She climbs all over Stefani's lap, offering her little gifts: a flower, her toy, her pancake, and even her sock. Who is this woman behind the heavy masks and outrageous costumes?

I hear the crackling of tires against gravel in the driveway, and I turn to see Bradley step out of his car.

"Dada!" Lea races towards the front door, the puppy at her heels.

Bright blue eyes flicker towards me and regard me kindly, as he gives me a warm smile. "Hi," he murmurs. I smile back. And then he looks at her. It's brief, but I see it. I watch his eyes soften as they slowly drink her in from head to toe until they rest on her face, practically spilling over with an emotion I haven't seen from him before. Love?

"You made it!" She breaks the silence and holds out her arms. He accepts, bending down to wrap his arms around her, gently rubbing her back. I feel like I've been jolted from reality.

She notices. "Let's all go sit," she quickly turns toward me, touching my shoulder before hurrying back into the living room.

"Hey," I feel his arms around me, as he kisses my ear. I place my hands over his and squeeze, giving him a small smile. And then he's off with Lea.

"How's my big girl!"

She shrieks as he lifts her up, Miss Asia barking excitedly at his feet. Suddenly, I need air.

"Hey, I-I need to take a phone call quickly outside. I'll be right back," I call out to no one in particular, grabbing my phone and pushing the Dutch doors open to the backyard. I sit on a rock, looking out at the Malibu skyline. I dig my toes into the grass and close my eyes. What was that? I had never seen anything like it before. I could swear that the room had suddenly swallowed me into invisibility, and an eternity had passed before either of them blinked. Does he look at me like that? Who was she?

She's the popstar we all grew up with— wild, carefree, and unattached to anyone or anything. She wore the most daring outfits, she never shied away from controversy, and she had the most beautiful and most provocative voice that this world had ever heard. But that's all she was. She was sexy but untouchable, inspiring but unattainable. Just like any other popstar. She represented everything that we had left behind to raise our daughter—the fame, the fortune, the parties, and the fast life.

And now she's in the kitchen washing the dishes with Bradley— the actor who had notoriously given it all up for a family. She was wigless and bare-faced, unrecognizable in a plain white t-shirt. Completely human, and all the more fascinating. A beautiful paradox.

My thoughts are interrupted by footsteps approaching me. I turn around to see Bradley, his blue eyes shining in the afternoon light. My heart smiles.

"I made you some tea." He lowers himself beside me, handing me a steaming mug of jasmine tea. My favorite. I blush and kiss him on the cheek, thanking him.

"You okay?" He asks, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah," I breathe. The tightness in my chest releases, and all the doubt floats away as I look into his smiling face. Now I am. "Let's go back inside, yeah?"

We return to an eerily quiet house, and I instantly panic. Where's Lea? I follow Bradley into the living room, almost bumping into him as he stops suddenly in his tracks.

Stefani is curled up the couch, softly snoring. One arm is draped over Miss Asia, and the other holds a sleeping Lea to her chest. My heart leaps to my throat. I will myself to look over at Bradley, who stands there, a soft smile playing on his lips. I gulp and step forward, and he looks at me in alarm—as if bewildered by the thought of me waking them up. I shake my head and gingerly place a blanket over the three peaceful bodies. He smiles.

It was then that I knew I could never compete. 

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