Love? I sigh, my eyes drifting from hers for a moment, as I think. Real hard. Is that what this is? The pain, the constant mixed-up state I’m in? The possessiveness, the wild reactions? Good God, I’m in love? “Yeah,” I whisper, pulling it all together, each piece clicking into place like an important part of the puzzle. “I think I do.” I return my attention to my little girl, praying she will accept this.
Georgia’s face is a picture of shock. I can’t blame her. Daddy’s never had a girlfriend. I take the tops of her arms, holding her tightly. “Pidge, this won’t change anything. You’ll still be number one.”
“But there will be Raya, too.”
“Well, maybe.” That’s if she’ll even listen to me. Give me a chance to explain, and then I have to stop her leaving. That’s what I’m most worried about. That she’ll go anyway, regardless of my desperate attempt to stop her.
As I look at my daughter, I see something building, and just when I’m certain she’s about to start crying on me, she literally bursts. “Quick!” she darts out of the bathroom, her speed unreal. “We need to find Raya and tell her you love her!” There are a collection of bangs and clatters, all drawers being pulled open and shoved shut. “I’ll wear a pretty dress!”
If I had time, I would cry with relief. But I don’t. So I match my girl’s urgency and rush to the shower.
Within ten minutes, I’m racing around my apartment getting dressed on the move, searching for my keys. “Georgia, have you seen Daddy’s keys?”
“Nope!”
“Damn it!” I turn out every drawer in my kitchen until I lay my hands on the spare set. “Let’s go.”
By the time we’ve made it down to the garage, I’m sweating. I hurry us across to my parking space, my parking space that’s minus my car. It takes a split second to figure out where it is. “No!” I yell, stomping over and standing where my car should be, circling, looking down, like I might find my Merc in one of the cracks in the concrete. “I can’t believe that woman!” I pull my phone out and dial Coral, turning away from Georgia’s alarmed face and hunkering, making my voice quiet and low, but I’m barely keeping my violence leashed. “You took my car,” I hiss when she answers.
“Planning on going somewhere?”
The strength of my grip around my phone would cut off her breathing in seconds if I had hold of her neck. I so wish I had hold of her neck. “You’re evil, Coral.”
“Oh, get over it. I’m doing you a favor.”
I hang up before I wreck seven years’ worth of effort to keep my hatred for Georgia’s mother contained when she’s around. Then I put in an emergency call. “Jesse, I need a favor.”
*
Half an hour later, Sam pulls up in his Porsche, roof down with Jesse in the passenger seat. Georgia races over to the car, beside herself with excitement. “Uncle Jesse! Uncle Sam! We’re going on an adventure to find Raya and tell her Daddy loves her!”
That’s twice in two days I’ve blushed. “How exciting!” Sam jumps out and pulls the seat forward for Georgia to climb in.
“Don’t take the piss,” I mutter, following her into the backseat and buckling her up.
Sam’s back in the driver’s seat quickly and zooming out onto the main road.
“This is exciting.” Jesse cranes his neck back, getting Georgia in his sights. “Daddy’s in love!”
My intention to snarl at him is interrupted when Sam takes a corner fast, forcing me to grab his head rest. “Jesus, Sam, calm down. Georgia’s in the damn car.”
“Faster!” she chants.
“Yeah, faster!” Jesse laughs, arms up in the air. “Like this, Georgia!”
Her laughter, a laughter that under normal circumstances would make my heart swell, just amplifies my anxiety. My heart isn’t able to swell, because it’s currently chained in my chest, and the only person who holds the key to free it, to let it pulse again for anything more than just Georgia, might have given up trying to unlock it. And that would be the end of me. Like the final nail in a coffin that’s kept me safe for so long. I don’t want to be safe anymore. I don’t want to be alone. I want Raya.
“Dad.” Georgia smacks my knee, at the same time smacking me from my ever-increasing despondency. “Uncle Sam is talking to you.”
I look up to the rearview mirror. “What?”
“Where to?”
“Where to?” I parrot, rummaging through my head for Raya’s address. “Belgravia.”
“And what’s the plan?” Jesse turns back to face me.
“The plan?”
“Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “What are you going to say to her? The poor woman thinks you’re shacked up with Coral and a kiddie.”
“What’s shacked up?” Georgia asks as my palms land over her ears, protecting her from the adult conversation.
I toss Jesse a dark look. “Please, I feel like I’m scarring her for life enough already.”
He rolls his eyes. “So what are you going to say?”
“I’m going to tell her not to leave.”
“Yeah, she might need a little more than that.”
“I’m going to tell her that I like her. A lot.”
His hands motion in circles, like I should continue, except I don’t know where to go next. My powers of persuasion will be limited with Georgia around. I won’t be able to talk about our connection, our chemistry, or the amazing sex. How her hands are like pokers on my skin every time she touches me. How my mind is constantly on her, imaging her in every position, including in my bed every single night. How she lightens my life beyond Georgia. How she makes me a better man, how I just know she can wholeheartedly trust me. How she can depend on me. How I promise to take care of her forever. How she’s given me a new purpose.
“Cry,” Sam says over his shoulder. “Chicks dig it when a man cries over them.”
I balk, appalled by the suggestion. “That ain’t happening.”
Jesse laughs, deep and rich. “Have you ever shed a tear?”
“No.” I wriggle in my seat, uncomfortable with the tiny stabs of something at the back of my eyes.
*
I’m literally quaking when Sam rolls up outside Raya’s place. I still have no idea how to convince her to stay, convince her that I’m worth her trust and effort. Sam whistles as he gazes up at the impressive property, and Jesse lifts his shades to get a better look, while Georgia is standing on the back seat staring in awe. “Does she have more money than you, Dad?”
“And cue the balls shrinking,” Sam breathes.
“Balls shrinking?” Georgia asks, utterly confused. “Balls can’t shrink, Uncle Sam.” She starts chuckling. “Silly!”
I give up, smacking the back of Sam’s head before swinging my body over the edge of the car. “Wait here.” I pace the street, my stare glued to the SOLD board displayed outside. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. So hopeful and hopeless. A huge part of my brain is trying to scare me off, yelling at me that I’m wasting my time, that she won’t even entertain my explanations. But I beat back the fear and worry, and cling to the fraction of hope, raising my hand to knock the door.
I nearly fall through the damn thing when a man swings it open. “Who the hell are you?” I blurt before I can stop myself, aware of the aggression in my stance and tone. Never mind that this could well be Raya’s solicitor, or maybe even just a friend. I haven’t got the strength for patience.