“Only because you’re the best daughter in the world,” I reply, pressing my face into her shampoo-scented hair.
Emmy pulls back enough to look at me, her nose less than two inches from mine. “I’m glad I’m not the only one that makes you happy anymore. That made me worry.”
That made her worry?
She’s so mature for her age sometimes that it makes me worry.
“You don’t ever need to worry about me, babydoll. Ever.”
She nods and smiles, but I can tell my words don’t affect her at all. Whatever the reason she’s been so focused on my happiness lately is still plaguing her. I can see it in the sad way she watches me.
“I love you, Emmaline,” I whisper, rubbing my nose against hers.
“Love you, too, Momma.” She hops off my lap as quickly as she hopped on. “When can we leave?”
“How about right after supper? I’ll call Jordan just to make sure he’ll be there.”
She bounces and twirls away, singing something about seeing Santa Claus and getting all her wishes this year. Hopefully at least one of us will get all her wishes this year. I’m pretty sure mine are too far gone.
????
Emmy wanted to stand in line by herself, just her and the other kids. She isn’t sucking her thumb, but of course she hasn’t said a word to anyone either.
She’s had her list made out to Santa for a week. She brought it with her so that she won’t have to tell him if she doesn’t feel like talking, which we both know she most likely won’t. That was her idea, not mine. She’s so self-aware sometimes, like she knows what’s better for her, how she’s feeling and progressing, than I do.
“She sure is a pretty little girl,” Jason says from my left. He hasn’t been more than arm’s length away since we got here. “And talkative, too.” He elbows me and laughs at his own joke. Before my bristling can make its way to my tongue and lash out in the form of a cutting remark, he recovers. Somewhat. “I’m just kidding. I shouldn’t have said that. She’s just so quiet.”
And you’re just such an asshole, I add silently. I don’t know why I’m surprised that his teasing is mean. That seems to be the way he is with everyone except me. And I can imagine why I’m exempt. Something about the mystery that lies within my panties, I’m sure.
“She talks when she’s comfortable,” I explain mildly, not even glancing up at him. I’m afraid I won’t be able to fight the urge to slap his smug face.
“I’ll just have to come around more often so she can get comfortable with me then. Since Cole’s not coming around anymore,” he adds, slipping his arm around my waist and squeezing.
I grit my teeth and say nothing. I don’t know how he knows what’s going on between Cole and me, or if he’s just taking wild shots in the dark. But it doesn’t matter. It’s none of his business and I refuse to respond.
“I thought you were pretty fond of your arms,” comes an achingly familiar voice from behind us. Jason and I both turn at the same time to find Cole standing less than a foot away. His electric blue eyes are trained on Jason, his expression as cold as his tone.
“Didn’t see a ‘taken’ sign on her, Cole,” he says, unaffected.
“I didn’t see a ‘touch this’ sign on her either,” Cole replies steadily.
“She can speak for herself. If she doesn’t want me around, all she has to do is say so.”
“If you’d take the hint, she wouldn’t have to,” Cole growls.
“I think you’re overstepping your bounds a little here, brother,” Jason says, taking a step toward Cole.
Cole doesn’t budge, and I can see why. He’s so tall and he tops Jason by at least three inches. Probably outweighs him, too, by at least thirty pounds of sheer muscle.
I eat him up as I look at him. Just seeing him is like a cool compress to a fevered brow. In the back of my mind, I wonder if I’ll compare every man for the rest of my life to this one. To this one handsome, amazing man who walked away with my heart. And then crushed it with his lies.
I feel sadness creep into my chest and tug at my chin. I make my excuses and turn away before either man can see it tremble. “It’s almost Emmy’s turn,” I mutter by way of explanation.
I hurry away, not looking back. No matter how much I want to.
I haven’t seen Cole since the night he snuck into my room and poured out his heart beside my bed. Although I’ll never forget that night, his words and the emotion I could feel pouring off him, it doesn’t change anything. He’s married. So I dare not look back at him. It makes it a thousand times harder to hold onto my resolve when I can see his gorgeous face, when I can read his beautiful eyes.
I stand near the front of the line and I focus on my daughter. She looks so grown up, standing in line holding her list between her tiny hands. Outwardly, she looks like a normal, healthy little girl. Eyes can’t see the scars she bears. I just hope one day they’ll be so faded that she won’t know they’re there either.
Jordan makes me jump when she appears at my side and throws an arm over my shoulders, but thankfully she’s the only person who approaches me. I don’t look back toward either man. By the time Emmy takes her turn on Santa’s lap and we turn to leave afterward, both of them have disappeared.
I know before we even push through the doors that tonight will be particularly rough for me.
????
A frown knits my brow when we pull into the driveway and I see a black SUV parked there. My first thought is of Brooke and dread pools in my stomach like acid. I get Emmy out, intending to ignore Brooke Danzer as we pass, but I notice that the vehicle is empty.
That’s odd, I note.
I wonder briefly if she got confused and thought she was at the house Cole’s working on. But if that’s the case, where is she? Did she just walk over there?
I unlock the door to our cottage and push it open to let Emmy inside. I step back out to the end of the porch and glance across the street to see if there are lights on. There aren’t. I move to follow my daughter inside. Before I can continue to wonder about what the hell Brooke is doing, I hear a voice that makes my blood run cold.
“Hey there, darlin’. It’s been a long time.”
My heart jumps up into my throat when I see Ryan. He’s squatting down at the edge of the living room, holding Emmy between his knees. Her face is pale as a ghost and her eyes are big and terrified.
“Momma,” she whispers in fright.
My throat closes. Oh God, that sound! To hear the fear in her little voice. The tremble. The plea.
“I’m right here, baby. Why don’t you come sit with me on the couch?”
She starts to move, but Ryan stops her. That’s when her eyes start to water. She’s a smart girl. She knows this isn’t good.
“Not so fast, little one. Let’s talk for a few minutes. I haven’t seen you in two years. You’ve grown. You’re such a beautiful girl now,” he says, stroking her hair, letting his hand linger a little too long on her back and butt as he continues his touch down her body to then drop away.