There comes a time when everyone wants to settle down and have a family. But not Henry: he was convinced that he would remain single forever, and that that was the best life for him. However, one day with his nine-year-old niece made him realize the real reason for his decisions.
Morning light was filtering through unfamiliar curtains, and I woke up with the sensation of something warm and damp on my face.
It was a dog – not mine – a small, fluffy creature with big, eager eyes that seemed to say: “Now you’re mine.”
It licked my cheek insistently, wagging its tail with determination. Did it want food? A walk? Who knows?
As I rubbed my eyes, the events of the previous night slowly came back to me. I turned my head and saw her: a girl I had met at the club.
She was asleep, her hair scattered across the pillow.
This was not my place. If I was here, it meant that I had achieved what I had set out to do.
And now it was time to do what I always did: pick up my things and leave in silence.
I slid carefully out of bed, scanning the room. There were my trousers, crumpled on the floor. My shirt was hanging awkwardly from a chair.
I had one sock next to my shoe, but the other one… where was it? My search led me to the dog’s mat.
There it was, claimed by the little ball of fluff that was now wagging its tail proudly.
I bent down, whispering,
“Hey, little buddy, that’s mine.” I reached for the sock, but the dog grabbed it with his teeth, growling playfully.
Just as we were starting our tug-of-war, a dazed voice broke the silence: ”Henry? Are you up yet?”
I froze. She was awake. As I turned, I saw her smiling at me with sleepy eyes.
“Yes,“ I stammered, ‘I have work. I’m late for a meeting.’ She frowned.
“But it’s Saturday…”
“Sometimes I work on weekends. Important stuff, you know.”
His smile faded, replaced by a curious tilt of the head.
“So… will I see you again?”
“Of course,” I lied softly. ‘I’ll call you.’ He frowned.
“You’ll call me? Did I give you my number?”
Uh-oh. Panic rose in my chest.
“I thought you had. Didn’t you?”
“And how did you save my contact information?” he insisted.
Trapped, I stammered, ‘By your name, obviously.”
His gaze sharpened.
“And what is my name?”
I swallowed. Two options: admit the truth or…
“Nancy?’ I weakly guessed.
His face instantly darkened.
“Get out of here! I knew it. You’re just like the rest of them…”
Some sneakers flew in my direction as I picked up my jacket and shoes, dodging his fury all the way to the door.
Sitting in my car, I leaned back and sighed. The rearview mirror reflected a satisfied, even smug face.
This was my life: no ties, no responsibilities, just freedom. Who needed the hassle of a family? Not me.
While others were tying themselves down, I lived for excitement: parties, work and the kind of independence that most people only dreamed of.
A loud ringtone interrupted my thoughts. I looked at the screen and blinked. Riley? My sister hardly ever called. I hesitated before answering.
“Hi, Riley.”
“Henry,” she said, her voice tense, ‘I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
I frowned. ’Sure. What’s up?”
“Come over as soon as you can. I can’t explain it to you on the phone. When can you come?”
“In fifteen minutes. Is everything okay?”
“Come. I’ll explain.”
I stared at the phone for a moment and started the car. Whatever it was, it must be serious.
Twenty minutes later I arrived at the entrance to her house and I had barely reached the door before it opened.
Riley was standing with her arms crossed, her expression a combination of annoyance and urgency.
“You’re late.”
“Five minutes,” I replied, entering.
“Relax, Riley. There’s no need to be so grumpy…”
“Don’t swear,” she hissed. ”My daughter is nearby.”
I followed her gaze and saw Mira, her nine-year-old daughter, curled up on the sofa with an encyclopedia.
Her face was tense, concentrated, and a finger traced the lines of the text like a mini scholar.
“As expected, you’re my last option,“ Riley said with a sigh. ‘I need you to look after Mira today.”
“Me? Are you serious?’ I asked, looking nervously at Mira, who hadn’t looked up from her book.
“I wouldn’t ask if I had another option,” she said, exasperated.
“I have a business dinner tonight. I either go and close the deal, or I cancel because I can’t leave her alone. Can you help me or not?”
“Okay,” I muttered. ”If it’s that important.”
“Great. The food’s in the kitchen. I’ve left some money in case you need to order something, but make it healthy. No greasy junk. And she’s not allowed to go out. Understood?”
“Understood.”
With a quick goodbye, Riley was out the door, leaving Mira and me alone. I looked at her. She looked at me.
Neither of us said a word. Let the longest day of my life begin.
The day dragged on like an endless loop of boredom.
Mira was sitting on the sofa, clutching her encyclopedia, and every now and then she would look at me with an expression that made me feel like a failed scientific experiment.
Her little face was calm, but her raised eyebrows screamed judgment.
I cleared my throat.
“So, do you like to read?“ I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Yes, I like it. Mom says that books are knowledge, and I want to know a lot,” she said, with a cold, sharp voice, like a character straight out of a movie about child prodigies.
I nodded. “Well, well… What’s your favorite subject in school?”
Mira sighed, looking at me as if I had just asked the most boring question in the world.
“It’s a very unoriginal question, but I’ll answer it anyway. I like biology because it has lots of animals in it and I love learning about them.”
“That’s good,” I muttered, not knowing what else to say. Conversations with children were more difficult than I thought.
After a moment, she closed the book and tilted her head. “So, are you my uncle?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Although you probably don’t remember me. We met when you were little.”
“I understand,” she said simply. Then she threw me a curveball. “Are you married?”
“No. I’m not married.”
“Why not?“ he asked, and his curious tone seemed more like an interrogation.
“I don’t want to get married. I like being alone,” I said, hoping that would end the conversation.
“Nobody likes being alone,“ he replied, folding his arms.
“I do,” I insisted, although his words hurt me more than I wanted to admit.
“Maybe you’re afraid,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Afraid? What would I be afraid of?”
“Mom says marriage is a lot of work. She also says you don’t like to work. So maybe you’re afraid of hard work.”
I sat up.
“She said that!? Well, just so you know, I’m not afraid! Maybe it’s just… it’s not for me. For now.”
“I understand. You’re scared,“ Mira concluded, curving her lips into a little smile. ‘Anyway, I’m hungry.”
“Then eat something,’ I said, gesturing towards the kitchen.
“Mom said you’re taking care of me. So take care of me,” she replied.
“Okay,“ I muttered, opening the fridge. It was full of salads, juices and not a single thing I felt like eating. I sighed and took out my cell phone.
“Let’s have pizza,” I said.
Minutes later, we were sitting on the sofa, devouring slices while watching TV. Mira was quiet for once, her face illuminated by the screen.
Before I knew it, my head was resting against the back of the sofa and the tiredness of the day took hold of me. I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep.
I woke up with a start, blinking against the light entering the room. Something didn’t add up. The house was too quiet. I looked around and realized that I couldn’t see Mira anywhere.
“Mira!” I shouted, and my voice echoed throughout the house. ”Mira, where are you?”
There was no reply.
Panic set in. I began to search the house, opening doors, looking under the beds and even checking the cupboards and wardrobes.
Every empty space taunted me. My heart was racing with every passing second.
I had a job. A simple job. To look after Mira for one day, and I couldn’t even do that.
I took out my cell phone, desperate for a clue, and saw a message from Riley:
“On my way home. I’ll be there in an hour. Is everything OK?”
I stood there for a moment, then replied: “Everything’s fine!” It was a lie, but I needed time to fix it.
I ran down the stairs, examined the living room again and noticed something I hadn’t seen before: the window.
It was open and a light breeze was stirring the curtains. Mira had gone out.
I crawled through the window and saw a small shoe lying by the neighbor’s fence. I gasped.
I climbed up and found myself in his yard, where there was a tall tree with a sturdy wooden house at the top.
“Mira!“ I shouted, looking up.
“I’m here,” his calm voice replied from above.
I climbed the rickety ladder, my pulse still pounding. At the top, I found Mira sitting cross-legged with another child.
They were playing with toy figures, completely unconcerned.
“Mira! You scared me!” I said, still catching my breath. ‘Why did you run away like that?”
“I was bored,’ she said with a shrug. ‘And Sam was here. Sam, say hello to my uncle.”
“Hi, Mira’s uncle,’ Sam said, without looking up.
“But your mother said you couldn’t go out!”
“She said you had to make sure I didn’t go out,” Mira said seriously. ‘But you were sleeping. Now I know what you’re afraid of.”
“Of course I was afraid!’ I blurted out, then softened. ”Sorry. But why doesn’t your mother let you play with other children?”
“She says I’ll pick up bad habits,“ said Mira.
“But I like playing with Sam.”
“There’s nothing wrong with playing with other children,” I said gently.
“Your mother is just… protective.”
“And you’re not protective enough,” she joked with a smirk.
I sighed. ”You’re right. I’ll be more careful from now on.”
Half an hour later, the door creaked and Riley came into the house, the keys clinking as she placed them on the worktop. “Look!? Henry!? Where are they?” she shouted, her voice bouncing off the walls.
There was no reply.
The house was dark and eerily silent, with no sign of life. The faint glow of the streetlights filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows that made the empty space even more disturbing.
Riley’s heart raced as she scanned the room. “Where are they?” she muttered softly, her hands trembling slightly. Her eyes drifted to an open window, the curtain stirring lazily in the breeze.
“Oh my God! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted my idiot brother,“ she muttered, panic-stricken. She rushed towards the window, her mind racing through the worst possible scenarios.
Suddenly…
“Surprise!” Mira and I appeared from outside, shouting in unison.
Riley jumped back, clutching her chest. “God! I thought they’d gone! What is wrong with you two?”
We burst out laughing and Mira almost doubled over with joy. Riley’s face softened when she saw her daughter laughing; her playful spirit was contagious.
“Sorry, little sister. You asked for it,” I joked, smiling. ‘Don’t worry so much. Nothing can go wrong, you just have to trust Mira much more.”
“Yes, Mom!’ Mira said, beaming.
Riley sighed, and a reluctant smile appeared on her face. “They’re both impossible,” she said, pulling Mira into a hug. “But I guess this time I’ll let it go.”
As I was leaving, I realized something: sometimes children teach you things about yourself that you didn’t even know you needed to learn.