chapter nine

The next morning, I flew out to Houston, and met Zilla at his mom's house, as agreed. I had Eliza come with me.

When I arrived, I expected to feel a certain level of anger or confusion, but instead, it was just a flood of emotions—some good, some bad, and some I didn't even know how to name.

I told Eliza to wait a few minutes before coming into the house. When I walked into the house, the first thing that hit me was the quiet. And then... a tiny, quiet coo.

Zilla was holding India, the baby, in his arms. His gaze was completely soft as he looked down at her, his eyes filled with wonder. My heart twisted at the sight.

He looked so natural, so calm like he'd been doing this forever. But how could he be this calm? How did he even know what to do with her?

"Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I stepped closer. "So this is India?"

Zilla looked up at me, his expression a mixture of surprise and relief. "Yeah. This is her."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. The baby was so tiny, so fragile-looking in Zilla's strong arms. She was beautiful in that soft, innocent way that babies are, with wide, curious eyes that seemed to be absorbing everything around her.

It felt strange to think that Zilla had fathered this little girl—and even stranger that she was now in front of me, completely real.

"She's... so small," I whispered.

"Yeah," Zilla said softly, his thumb gently brushing her tiny hand. "I didn't even know she existed until yesterday."

Just then, the door to the living room creaked open, and Eliza stepped into the room—Eliza. She froze when she saw us, and then, as if on cue, Eliza glanced at the baby, her eyes going wide. Eliza's mouth fell open in shock.

"Wait," Eliza said, glancing from me to Zilla, her tone incredulous. "Did I hear that right? There's a baby here? That's your baby?"

Zilla looked like he'd been hit with a brick. "Yeah," he said quietly, his voice tight. "Her name is India. She's... mine."

Eliza crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "So... some random woman just dropped off a baby at your mom's house, and you're the father? Just like that?"

Zilla nodded, a weary look on his face. "Yeah, apparently. The woman signed over her rights and everything."

Eliza shook her head in disbelief, still staring at the baby. "This is insane. I mean... how does this even happen?"

Zilla let out a long sigh, looking like he wanted to crumble under the weight of everything. "I don't know. I'm just as confused as you guys are. But she's here now, and... I'm her father."

Eliza looked back at me, her mouth pressed into a tight line. "Wow. This is... a lot to process." She took a deep breath. "Kayla, how are you feeling about this?"

I shrugged, feeling more emotions than I could articulate. "I'm still trying to figure it out. I mean... it's a lot, right? Zilla didn't know about this baby until now. And now he's suddenly a father."

Eliza nodded, her expression softening as she took a step closer to Zilla and the baby. "Well, you've got this, right? I mean, you've always had your head on straight. If anyone can handle this, it's you."

Zilla's gaze flickered between Eliza and me. "I don't know if I've got this, Eliza. But I'm going to do what I have to for her. She's mine now."

Eliza seemed to relax a bit, stepping forward and reaching out to gently touch India's hand. "She's beautiful, Zilla. She's lucky to have you."

Zilla smiled softly, though his eyes were still filled with the weight of the situation. "I don't know if I'm lucky to have her... but I'm going to make sure she's taken care of."

The room fell into a heavy silence, each of us processing the gravity of the situation in our own way. But amidst all the chaos, there was a sense of peace. Zilla wasn't alone in this. We were all here to support him, no matter how overwhelming it was. And if that meant adjusting to this new reality, then that's what we would do.

But as for me? I had a lot of thinking to do. Could I accept this new part of Zilla's life? Could I share him with a child he'd just discovered he had? I wasn't sure yet. But I was going to try. For Zilla, for India... and maybe even for myself.

kaylathepublicist ✓✓ 2h

The moment Zilla handed me India, something inside me shifted. It was like all of my emotions—confusion, worry, uncertainty—faded into the background, and I was just left with the overwhelming weight of holding this tiny human. She fit so perfectly in my arms, like she'd always belonged there.

I could feel her warmth, the soft weight of her little body pressed against my chest, her tiny hands curling into the fabric of my shirt. She smelled like baby lotion and something sweet and innocent that made me want to protect her, even though I'd only just met her.

Zilla had been a father for less than 24 hours, but I could already see the way his entire world had shifted. He was different with India. The tough, confident Zilla I knew was still there, but in his eyes, there was a softness, a vulnerability that wasn't there before. And maybe that's what threw me off the most. This wasn't the Zilla I thought I knew.

I sat down on the couch, my legs tucked underneath me, India nestled against me like a fragile little bird. Her wide eyes seemed to take in everything around her, and though she didn't know it, she was already starting to change everything.

I glanced over at Zilla as he disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower, probably to clear his head. He'd been holding up well, but I could see the way the situation was weighing on him.

The way his shoulders tensed, the way his eyes would briefly flicker with uncertainty whenever he looked at India. It was clear he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this little girl was now his responsibility.

The moment he closed the bathroom door behind him, I exhaled. There was silence in the house now—just me and India.

I looked down at her again, noticing her dark eyes blinking up at me. Her tiny fists were still clenched, but she seemed content, her soft breathing a reassuring reminder that babies, in some strange way, don't need as much as we think. They need love, warmth, and care, and right now, I was the one who had to provide that.

I glanced toward the kitchen and then back at India. I knew babies needed to be fed, but... how? I was pretty sure I'd seen Zilla's mom bottle-feeding her earlier, but I'd never had to take care of a baby before.

My mind raced, trying to recall anything I'd seen or read about newborns. I knew that babies were supposed to eat pretty often—every couple of hours—but I had no idea how to tell if India was hungry.

I carefully moved her a little in my arms, trying not to jostle her too much. Her tiny head rested against my chest, and she made a soft, content sound, her little fingers curling against my shirt. I smiled, feeling the instinct to protect her growing. Maybe I was overthinking things. I didn't need to be perfect. I just needed to show her that she was safe with me.

Just then, India's stomach made a soft, grumbling sound—barely audible but enough to make me look down at her. She was awake now, her eyes blinking up at me as if she was trying to figure me out. I wondered if she recognized me. Was she already learning to trust the people around her, or was I just another face she didn't understand?

"Are you hungry, little one?" I whispered, adjusting her slightly in my arms.

She blinked again, her tiny lips puckering as if in response. I could see her searching for something, maybe just the instinct to latch on. I stood up slowly, shifting her position, and as I did, I noticed the bottle Zilla's mom had left on the counter. It had been prepped and warmed for feeding, but I wasn't sure if it was the right time yet. Was I supposed to wait for Zilla, or was it okay for me to try?

I glanced back toward the bathroom. I didn't want to disturb Zilla while he was getting cleaned up, but this wasn't something I could wait around for.

I stepped over to the counter and gently took the bottle. It felt awkward in my hands. I was trying to remember all those little things I'd seen when Tookie or my cousins had babies or the few moments I'd babysat my younger nieces and nephews. But this? This was different. India wasn't just a cute little bundle; she was a tiny human with her own needs, and her own rhythm, and I had to figure it out.

As I gently held the bottle near her mouth, I watched her face. Her little eyes were wide, her lips parting slightly, and when the nipple of the bottle touched her lips, she instinctively latched on. I felt a wave of relief. She was feeding, finally!

I watched her suckle softly, her tiny hands now relaxed at her sides. It was strange, feeling so helpless in some ways and so needed in others. I wasn't her mother—I wasn't even her aunt—but right now, I was the closest thing to a female mother-like figure she had aside from Zilla's mother. Zilla was still adjusting, and his mom was helping out as much as she could, but I could feel the weight of this new responsibility settling onto my shoulders, too.

I didn't know if I was ready to be a stepmom, a caregiver, or anything of the sort. But one thing was for sure: I couldn't let her down. Not when she needed me. Especially when Zilla needed me.

I sat back down on the couch, adjusting my position so India could feed more comfortably. She made soft, contented noises as she drank, and I found myself mesmerized by how peaceful she looked. The fact that I could provide this small thing—feeding her, holding her—made me feel oddly proud. She trusted me. For now, that was enough.

It didn't take long before India finished the bottle, and she let out a tiny little sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as if she were ready to sleep. I carefully adjusted her in my arms, lifting her head just slightly to burp her.

I thought I'd be more awkward, more uncomfortable, but I felt... surprisingly okay. My movements were slow and gentle, instinctive even. Maybe this wasn't so difficult after all. Sure, I didn't know the first thing about raising a child, but in this moment, I just needed to do what felt right. And holding her, feeding her, it felt like I was doing something right.

As I burped her softly, I noticed the way her little body curled against me, like she was trying to seek comfort in the warmth of my arms. I felt the weight of her trust settle against me, and my heart clenched.

I wasn't sure where we were going from here—me, Zilla, India, and everyone else involved—but I knew this: I wasn't going to walk away. Whatever came next, whatever craziness unfolded, I would be here for Zilla. For India. For whatever strange, unexpected future we all had ahead of us.

India gave a soft coo, and I smiled, glancing at her contented face.

I could feel the bond growing, piece by piece, moment by moment. And even though everything felt so new and uncertain, I was determined to figure it out. She was Zilla's daughter, and right now, that was enough to make me feel like I needed to help. To be part of this—part of them.

Zilla emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, his hair damp and his expression a little lighter. When he saw me holding India, his face softened. "You're doing good," he said, his voice filled with something I couldn't quite name. Pride? Gratitude?

I looked up at him, offering a small smile. "She's so peaceful now. Just needed a little food."

Zilla nodded, moving closer to us. He hesitated, then reached out, gently touching India's tiny hand. "You're a natural," he said quietly.

And in that moment, for the first time since I heard the news about India, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I could find my way into this new world. Because if Zilla could do it, if he could step up to be the father he needed to be, then I could do this too. For him. For India. For us.

And whatever this was turning into, I wasn't going anywhere.