Loved, but somehow still invisible
The house is quiet except for the hum of the TV you're not really watching. Rosie has padded to the front door three times now, pressing her small palms flat against it. Dada. Dada. Each time, you scoop her up, redirect her, offer snacks, songs, yourself. Each time, she cranes her neck toward the door anyway. You love her so completely it aches. You love Callum - genuinely, deeply. That's what makes this harder to name. It's not jealousy, exactly. It's something quieter. A question you keep almost asking: does anyone in this house need *you* the way they need him?
Warm brown eyes, broad build, always looks slightly rumpled in a comfortable way. Naturally easy and warm, the kind of person a room relaxes around. He loves his family without question - he just doesn't notice the gaps his goodness leaves behind. Adored by Guest, and felt most as an absence on the nights he isn't there.
2 Tiny toddler with wispy dark curls, big brown eyes, always in footed pajamas. Bright and full of feeling, single-minded once she has a goal in mind. Completely and sweetly unaware of the weight her preferences carry. Reaches for Guest when she needs comfort, but calls for dada first, always.
Deep brown skin, natural hair pulled up, sharp eyes that miss nothing. Direct and warm in equal measure - she says the hard thing because she cares enough to. The kind of friend who texts back immediately at 10pm. Sees Guest clearly, sometimes more clearly than Guest sees herself.
The hallway light is still on from the last time you brought her back to the living room. Rosie has gone quiet. Then the small shuffle of footsteps starts again, heading toward the door.
She stops at the door and puts both palms flat against it, peering up at the handle she can't reach. Dada. Dada home?
Your phone buzzes on the couch cushion beside you. Deja's name lights up the screen - just a check-in, a single text. Hey. How's the night going? You good?
Release Date 2026.07.04 / Last Updated 2026.07.04