Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
It had been the most tender, the most romantic, the most intimate experience of my life.
And judging by the look in Harper’s beautiful green eyes, she felt the same.
We lay in a heap for a moment, panting hard and sweating and holding each other. Harper took a deep breath and I lay my head down on her chest, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin and feeling her heart beat a frantic tattoo beneath my cheek.
“We should probably get dressed,” Harper said softly. I struggled to move off of her and she fumbled with her clothes, pulling her hoodie down over her tits and pulling up her panties and sweatpants. My own pants were hopelessly creased and I straightened myself as best as I could, running a hand through my sweaty hair and breathing deep.
I was astonished when Harper began to cry.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling her into my arms and holding her tightly. I thought that we had moved past all of the awkward stuff – or at least, that we’d begun to.
“I’m sorry,” Harper cried, her breath coming in little gasps. “I know that what I did was wrong, and that I shouldn’t have done it, but I thought that I was doing the right thing for everyone involved.”
As she spoke, I didn’t just hear the words. I heard the tears in her voice, how sad and troubled she had been for the last four years. How she was filled with regret and sadness and worry for her daughter’s safety.
Our daughter’s safety.
I knew that I should be angry. Harper had kept a hell of a secret from me. In fact, I could even make myself angry if I tried hard enough.
But Harper had been scared and alone except for her dad ... and while that had been her choice, I could tell from the genuine distress in her voice that it hadn’t been an easy choice.
That didn’t mean that I wished things hadn’t been different between us, though. Kids hadn’t ever been my thing, but as soon as I’d seen sweet little Ada sleeping in bed, I’d felt a love more powerful and pure than anything else I’d ever felt. Maybe I’d only been opposed to the idea of reproducing because my parents had drilled it into my head for so many years – it had been their obsessive desire, not mine.
“I’m here,” I told her quietly, stroking her damp hair and hugging her tightly. “I promise, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Harper sniffled, but she’d mostly stopped crying.
When we both heard the sound of soft footsteps, we froze. Harper leapt away from me as if she’d been scalded, and I looked up to see a small girl standing in the hallway with wide eyes and mussed hair. Her skin was flushed and blotchy – she was obviously sick – but she didn’t look nearly as bad as I’d imagined, based on what Harper had told me.
She was also the very image of my mother as a young child – the portrait of her as a girl had hung in our dacha when I was small, and seeing Ada now was almost eerie.
It was uncanny.
“Mommy?” Ada asked softly.
Immediately, Harper leapt to her feet and went over to Ada. Ada clung to the legs of Harper’s sweatpants and buried her face in her knees. Harper smiled at me, then squatted down and put an arm around her daughter. She kissed Ada’s forehead and brushed a lock of brown hair away from her face.
“You look like you’re feeling a lot better,” Harper said, cocking her head to the side.
Ada glanced at me, blushed beet red, then buried her face in Harper’s neck.
“She’s shy,” Harper mouthed at me before scooping her daughter up and holding her on her hip.
My mind was reeling – I had no idea what I was supposed to say, or do, or even think. Most fathers got to see their children right after birth ... but Ada was already a small person, with my eyes and Harper’s brown hair and a sweet little giggle that I heard as Harper carried her over to me.
It wasn’t that I was against the idea of kids – especially not with my daughter in front of me right now – but I did have to admit that I’d always felt awkward with them. I knew that you weren’t supposed to use baby-talk, but talking them as adults also felt weird – what if they didn’t understand a word?
“You know how you’re always asking Mommy why you don’t have a daddy like the other girls at Dawning City?” Harper asked softly. She was standing inches away from me now, and Ada’s face was still buried tightly in her mother’s neck.
“Honey?” Harper tried again. “Can you look at me?”
Ada gulped and pulled her face out of Harper’s neck, glanced briefly at me and flushed bright red again before looking at her mother and nodding solemnly. Her blue eyes were as wide as saucers, and I had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke her hair.