Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“What?” She shows the ceiling her palms. “What am I supposed to say to her?”
I start snatching down mugs from the cupboard, not bothering to answer. Because, truth is, I don’t know what she should have said.
“Dad?” I don’t like the slow way she says that.
I continue making coffee. “What?”
“I know you’re thinking about Lo right now, but what about you?”
“What about me?” I fetch the milk from the fridge, silently willing her not to go there. I can’t think beyond this moment. Now. How I can be here for Lo. I pour and stir, and then I have nothing left to do except try and face my daughter. I haven’t seen her for months. You’d think I’d want to stare at her for as long as I could, but I don’t. Not with that empathy riddling her pretty face.
“Everything about you, Dad.”
I languidly turn around, hoping she sees the effort it takes me and notes my reluctance to have this conversation. “I’m forty-two years old, Tia. I’ve never met a woman who has consumed me like that woman up there.” I point to the kitchen door, though Tia doesn’t look. She just gazes at me with a mixture of sadness and that dreaded sympathy. “I love her, darling. As much as I love you, and you know how much that is.” I expect a peeved face, but it doesn’t come. “I just have to hope she’ll eventually see me here, waiting for her.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
I retreat and think really hard about her question—the question I have silently asked myself a thousand times. “Then I’ll still be here for her.”
Quite unexpectedly, Tia’s eyes well with tears and she runs to me and cuddles me like I need to be cuddled. It offers me a moment’s solace, a place to hide, and as I look up and see The River soundlessly watching my daughter comfort me, I give him a mild nod, silently giving him my blessing.
No man should be kept from the woman he loves.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sleep isn’t easy to find. I’m shattered, yet the damn land of nod is clearly playing an unfair game of hide and seek, and I can’t fucking seek. I toss, I turn, I slam my head down on the pillow a million times in frustration, and I count two hundred woolly fucking sheep.
No sleep.
I’m pondering the benefits of downing a bottle of Scotch when I hear a shuffle of movement outside my door. Steve stirs on the end of the bed as the door opens quietly and bathes my room in a soft blanket of light. Lo’s silhouette appears, and she starts padding over toward my bed, Boris on her heels. She’s getting into bed with me? I still, hardly breathing and, quite childishly, I slam my eyes shut and pretend to be in that illusive place of slumber. If I’m asleep, I can’t technically object when she gets into bed with me. I can’t consider the consequences of the guilt that will possibly bury her tomorrow. The fact that I’m actually wide awake and capable of pointing out the disadvantages of her intentions will be a secret I’ll keep forever. I’m here for her. No matter what. No matter how much it kills me. And I will not fault Lo for this either. Yes, she knows that I love her and that this could be hard for me, but as I told her earlier, she is not and has never been a burden to me. I’m glad she’s allowing me to comfort her, and the fact that she’s survived the last two years without affection still astounds me. Especially from the man she’d planned to live the rest of her days with. And I truly understand the need to be touched by someone. Even if it’s only a cuddle.
She crawls in, snuggling into my side and, shame on me, I sleepily lift my arm to give her space. She sighs and settles while Boris joins Steve, and with her held close to me, I settle too, sleep now finding me quickly.
When I wake the next morning, I feel refreshed and sated after a good night’s sleep. But I’m alone in bed. I lie quietly in the dim light, thinking hard about whether I was dreaming last night, or whether she really did crawl into bed and snuggle with me all night. I stroke up the mattress beside me to the pillow, feeling a lingering warmth there. Then I roll over, my movement wafting the pillows and blankets. The faint scent of Lo hits my senses, waking me fully. Where is she?
I drag myself out of bed and make my way downstairs, groaning as I stretch my arms up, feeling every muscle in my back pull satisfyingly. The sound of chatter hits me as I approach the kitchen, and I enter to find Lo and Tia sitting at the breakfast bar, both with their hands wrapped around steaming mugs of coffee. Lo is showered and dressed in some worn skinny jeans and an oversized shirt, her hair pulled into a scruffy knot at the nape of her neck, and Tia is still in her pajamas. Both look up when they hear my bare feet hit the cold tiles.