⚠️⚠️⚠️read chapter 13 before this one guyssss. Two new chapters todayyyyy!⚠️⚠️⚠️
"Well Row. I hope you have fun catching up with your Tasmanian devil of a niece." Kian salutes his brother who is being used as a human trampoline by his daughter on his own bed.
"Where are you running off to?" Rowan asks the girls father.
"I need to organise everything from her suitcase in her walk in whilst you're still here to watch her." Kian informs him.
"What do you mean still here? I'm not leaving this cutie again any time soon." He smiles at the hyper toddler now playing with her stuffed turtle on his chest.
"Yeh right. You still have tons of press and interviews to do." Kian raises an eyebrow.
Rowan grumbles in annoyance at the thought.
"I'm sure the action movie fans can wait another year or ten to find out what my favourite fight scene to shoot was." He rolls his eyes, playing with Kiara's long hair.
"And Kelly too?" Kian reminds him of their incessant manager.
His older brother scoffs and shakes his head at the thought of her.
"That woman needs to worry about her own damn family while I spend time with mine." Rowan counters.
He's never said anything of the sort before because he knows deep down they are all like family.
"Say that to her face I dare you. She'll smack you silly." Kian challenges.
"Oh I do say these things to her face. We both do." Rowan chuckles, lifting a knowing brow.
"Never ends well." Kian hums.
Rowan nods in agreement thinking about all the times she's hit them over the head with various vogue magazines and handbags for acting like the children they are.
"I'll have to tell her soon. I need Harry's help renovating Kiara's room anyways." Kian taps his fingers on the doorframe in thought.
Harry Sierra is Kelly, Kian and Rowan's manager's husband.
They both have two little boys together, one named Grayson that is the same age as Kiara who just like her, is the double of both of his parents, and his older brother Jace.
Harry is very successful within the interior design industry which is how Kelly and him met.
Kelly hired the best of the best to renovate one of her old apartments and from the moment they met they hit it off.
Now seven years on they have two little boys. One three years old and one five years old.
"And Kiara can meet the boys too!" Rowan suggests eliciting the deepest frown from his younger brother.
"She'll need some friends if you're planning on keeping her locked up like rapunzle." Rowan adds.
"Punzle!" Kiara's ears perk up at the mention of one of her favourite princesses.
"You're gonna be her soon baby if daddy never lets you go!" Rowan switches his tone to one more friendly, despite his words being a dig at Kian.
"Me princess!" She proudly states.
"You are." Her uncle confirms, holding onto her small hands in assurance.
From his peripheral, Rowan catches Kian holding a finger up to his lips and creeping away before Kiara can stop him.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Kian has a sheen of sweat covering his forehead, just from emptying out all of Kiara's belongings onto her bed.
He could swear she has a magical mary poppins suitcase providing her with never ending access to all the clothes in the world.
One tiny little girl does not need this many clothes Kian silently rants to him self.
You would probably wonder how many pairs of leggings and t-shirts a growing toddler needs but that isn't what the girl owns at all.
Kian wouldn't have a clue where to start with styling the types of outfits she has.
The child has jeans and shorts in every colour, stylish leggings and even fur coats.
Now that he has his challenge set infront of him he may just have to keep Rowan at home with him for the foreseeable future.
That way he can lure Kelly here and force her to help him with this fashion explosion he's dealing with.
In fact, he may just need the kind of woman's opinion she provides for allot more than just this when it comes to raising Kiara.
There's only so much help google can provide before he starts to require proper lessons on things such as how to tie a pony tail and what to pair with leather leggings.
Doing what he does best, Kian procrastinates even touching the mount of clothing and instead decides to unpack the case containing products and objects.
First he lines up the full sized kiddy shampoo, conditioner and bubble baths along her bath tub.
Then he organises her hair products and mysterious creams on the counter around the sink.
Then he sets down her pink step stool infront of it to help her reach the taps.
After that, he hides her medicine bottles on the very top shelf above her sink so that he can keep all of her stuff in the same place.
He then hangs her princess and Nemo themed towels on the radiator alongside her sleeping beauty blanket to keep it warm for whenever she may need it.
Next, he creates a pile of brightly coloured sippy cups and disney lunch bags to bring downstairs with him.
All that's left in the bottom of the large designer suitcase are a pile of teddys and dolls, and a plain white chest that has "Kiara Georgia Wiley" painted in pink cursive on the lid.
His daughter's pretty name piques his interest and so he lifts the chest out of the case and sets it down infront of his crossed legs.
Nothing could prepare the new father for the tidal wave of emotions that sweep over him the second he lifts the lid, expecting nothing but smaller toys or even picture books.
His eyes are drawn straight to the ultrasound plastered to the lid of the chest.
Under the sparkly pink stickers spelling out 'Kiara'.
After the first single tear that escapes his glassy eyes, he has trouble stopping them coming.
The more time he has to analyse the contents of the box, the more tears flow down his cheeks.
His baby girl.
Every one of her firsts as a new born seems to have been either stored away or documented in this chest.
A single pink dummy next to an empty milk bottle and a giraffe teething toy with the tiniest baby pink floral print onesie.
All on top of a grey knitted blanket.
With trembling hands he picks up the small, soft onesie, as though it's his baby herself.
An audible sob escapes him when it sinks in.
She was that small. The day she was born. She probably wore this very thing. Now she could barely fit a leg through it.
Kian's heart aches for the irreplaceable milestones he missed in her life. He grieves for the time he should have been there, holding her mother's hand as they both see her first scan.
As they pop a balloon or cut a cake to find out her gender.
And as they bring her into this world, hearing her first cry.
But instead her mother chose to do it all without him.
Why he'll never know.
Not wanting to ruin anything with tear stains, Kian puts back the onesie and uses the blanket to lift the top layer of items off the box.
Next on the pile lays a shell pink notebook with metallic text reading 'The story of you' on the cover.
He opens it up to the first page and soaks in every precious detail.
Name: Kiara Georgia Wiley.
Date of Birth: 14th of February 2004
Time of Birth: 7:55 AM
Place of Birth: London, England.
Weight: 6 IB 4 OZ
His little valentines day baby. How fitting it is that she was born on a day of love.
Although she obviously didn't love her mother so much arriving at such an early hour in the morning, Kian sniffly laughed to himself.
He was right. She was tiny. Six pounds and four ounces tiny.
When he turned the page he held his breath and looked away from the most valuable possession he's ever owned.
Photos. Pages and pages of photos from birth up until now fill the remainder of the book, staying safe and neat in the clear pockets stuck to the card that is the pages.
He wasn't ready to see all he missed out on flash right before his eyes.
So he shut the book closed and tucked it away, expecting the remnants of the box to be easier to cope with.
But again, he was wrong.
Never in the few but long days this week in which he has known of his daughter's existence did he expect any acknowledgement from her mother.
Not after learning that she fled to England with her and didn't so much as try to get in contact with Kian to tell him anything at all.
So when he sees his name written in the same calligraphy from the lid of the box, his heart drops to his stomach.
His breathing erratic and his ears ringing painfully.
To,
Mr Kian Wiley
At the bottom of the box lays a stack of envelopes addressed to him.
As he flicks through them to double check he notices a different number written in pencil in each corner.
The first number on the envelope in his hand being number one.
She put them in order for me Kian gathers.
It's like she never planned on sending them though.
She wrote them to him but never added so much as an adress. Not even the country she knew he lived in.
Floods of buzzing questions were the first thing to bring him back to his senses after he swears his heart stopped in his chest for a while.
Why write me letters if you never planned on telling me I had a daughter Lucy?
I'm trying not to resent you since you were so cruelly ripped from this world and our daughter's life but it's like you didn't even try.
This doesn't make sense.
Kian carefully slides open the envelope, being cautious not to cause a single tear in the irreplaceable paper.
He decides that the only way he could possibly understand her reasons for everything she's done is by reading.
And so with his heart beating in his throat, he lifts the letter out.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
A/n. I am actually so sorryyyyy pmsllll😂😭 did not mean to leave us hanging like this but I have work early in the morning and then I'll 100% be watching the new season of Lucifer.
The next time I can possibly write is Sunday afternoon phahaha.
But I also need to figure out something creative to do with this letter situation because it's giving me 13 reasons why vibes so i was contemplating having a chapter on a letter then a chapter in the present and so on...if that makes sense.