Page 36 of Velvet Corruption

If we were going to do this, we were going to do it right.

Rosie had the app menu up and was scrolling through the titles with a deliberation that suggested she was taking the choice very seriously. I remembered being that age, when picking out a movie from Blockbuster felt like a life-or-death decision.

“Don’t start without me,” I called as I opened and looked at the notification that had just come in.

A message from Alek sat at the top of my inbox.

I feel terrible bailing on you today, especially with everything that’s at stake. I’ll try to swing by after dinner if you’re still up. Please don’t kill me.

“Alek is coming over tonight,” I told Rosie as I sent Alek a text back.Don’t worry. Just come over whenever you can. You canbring Natalia, I’d love to see her.“His sister might be coming too.”

“Yay! I like Natalia. She’s funny,” Rosie said, her eyes still glued to the screen as she scrolled through the movie options. She paused, then looked back at me. “Can Dad come?”

I paused, considering how to answer. Could Julian come?Shouldhe come? These days, every interaction with him felt like navigating a minefield. We were still figuring out how to co-parent, how to be in each other’s lives without being in each other’s lives.

“Maybe,” I said, noncommittally. “Let’s see how things go.”

Rosie shrugged and went back to the app, but I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was so smart, too smart sometimes. She knew more than we gave her credit for, and that worried me.

I glanced back at my laptop, its screen now dark, and thought about the mountain of work waiting for me: speeches to revise, polls to analyze, strategy calls to make. Alek bailing meant I’d have to juggle even more tonight. But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside. We had a movie and a feast on the way.

“Got it!” Rosie shouted, holding up the remote like a trophy. She had a sparkle in her eye that reminded me of when she was younger, when every little thing could set her alight with excitement. Those moments were rarer now, as if growing up had dimmed her natural glow. Seeing it again made me ache with a bittersweet nostalgia.

“What did you pick?” I asked, walking over to peek at the screen.

She quickly turned it off, hiding the selection. “It’s a surprise.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A surprise? You know I don’t like surprises.”

She smirked, a mischievous little grin that told me she was enjoying this. “You’ll like this one.”

“Fine,” I said, throwing my hands up in surrender. “But if it’s Cars 3, I’m vetoing.”

Rosie laughed and ran to her room. “I’m going to change into my pajamas!”

“You are? It’s like 11 o’clock in the morning.”

“Movie mornings are better in pajamas!” she called back, already out of sight. With how poorly she had seemed in the morning, I had been surprised she had wanted to get dressed at all. But now she was going back to her jammies, which was, in my opinion, how sick days should always be spent.

I chuckled and shook my head. She was right, of course. The best days were the ones where we stayed in our pajamas all day, moving from one lazy activity to the next. They were rare now, with her growing list of extracurriculars and my ever-expanding workload, but those memories still held a special place in my heart.

It made me feel horrible.

Maybe…maybe I really shouldn’t be taking this on.

Maybe I was a horrible mother, like Julian said. No, not said. He always implied, which made it worse. It was harder to defend myself against implications.

“So what did you pick?” I asked as I settled next to her on the couch, giving her a kiss on the forehead so I could see if her temperature had gone down at all. She was a little cooler now, but the doctor had said to keep her away from other kids---not just because she was contagious, but because her immune system was busy fighting the virus already in her system.

“The Little Mermaid,” she said. “I know Ariel is your favorite.”

I snuggled up to her. “You didn’t have to do that. We can watch Moana or…”

“No, I love the songs!”

That was the end of our argument.

We ate together, tucked under the same blanket, the soft glow of the TV flickering over the room. Rosie sang along quietly between bites, her voice getting sleepier with every chorus.

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