“Sir, are you married?”
He blinked, the unexpected inquiry pulling him back to the present. He looked down and found a tiny girl standing before him, no taller than his knee. She had dark braids that swung across her shoulders, polished black shoes that glimmered in the sunlight, and a dress that looked like it had been carefully mended along the hem, threads of different colors intertwining like a patchwork quilt. Her hands clutched the fabric tightly, her expression serious, as if she were carrying a weight far beyond her years.
“No,” he answered gently, caught off guard. “I’m not.”
The relief that washed over her face was immediate, palpable, as though a great burden had been lifted. She exhaled deeply, her small shoulders relaxing.
“Good,” she whispered.
His heart inexplicably skipped, a wave of confusion and curiosity crashing over him.
“Why is that important?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.
There was a pause, a moment where her gaze flickered off to the side as if contemplating something monumental. “Because…” she began, her voice dropping to a whisper, “if you were married, you might not be nice to me.”
A smile crept onto Ethan’s face, though a tremor of uncertainty grazed his insides. The innocence of her words felt heavy, and he struggled to wrap his mind around it. “What makes you say that?”
Her dark eyes widened, earnest and innocent. “My daddy says that when people get married, they forget how to be nice to kids.”
He chuckled softly, the sound feeling foreign yet warm in his throat. “Well, I promise I’m nice, even if I’m not married.”
She tilted her head, as if deciding whether to believe him. “What’s your name?”
Ethan was surprised by the question. “Ethan. And what’s yours?”
“Lila,” she replied, a hint of pride in her small voice.
“Nice to meet you, Lila.”
“Nice to meet you too. Can I sit?”
He nodded, motioning to the space beside him. She climbed up onto the bench with surprising grace, her feet dangling above the ground. A moment of silence settled between them, filled with the distant sound of laughter and shouts of joy. He found himself studying her — the way she seemed completely at ease, the way the world around her faded as she focused on him.
“What are you doing alone?” Lila asked, her brows knitting together. “Don’t you have a family?”
The question pierced him, sharper than he expected. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked, but it felt different coming from her. “I don’t have a family,” he admitted quietly, the admission tasting bittersweet on his tongue. “I have a job that keeps me busy.”
