My pulse sped up.
Lexi: Great. My ear doesn’t hurt anymore. I have to remember the drops and antibiotics.
After a few more messages with Tate, I announced to Paisley, “Your dad says it’s okay.”
She clapped her hands. “I told you.”
“I know. I wanted to make sure. So let’s finish the toast, and then we can go.” Her excitement about decorating her room was contagious, and I was looking forward to seeing the end result.
Tate owned two cars, a Mercedes and a BMW, and I drove Paisley anywhere we needed in the latter. I was careful driving it because it was a brand-new SUV—much larger than the secondhand Mini Cooper I owned and rarely used. I relied on Uber and public transportation a lot.
I loved spending time with Paisley. She was a good kid and didn’t take advantage of situations, and I was impressed that she didn’t ask for anything else except the twinkle lights. We bought a lot more of them than I knew we needed, but I figured they could use them elsewhere around their house during the Christmas season.
Once we were back, we headed directly to her room to set them up.
“Where do you want to hang them?” I asked, looking around.
“Everywhere,” she exclaimed, making me laugh.
“Okay, so I have a few ideas. Why don’t we put a strand around your windows? We do need a place to plug them in, so that’s going to restrict us a bit.”
Paisley pushed out her lower lip. “Okay.”
“It’ll still look like a fairy tale,” I promised her.
It took us the whole afternoon to set up the twinkle lights, mostly because Paisley couldn’t make up her mind where she wanted them. She had a lot of plugs in her room, so we had several options. In the end, she had one string around each window, one around her bed, and one on her toy shelf. We turned all of them on and stood in the doorway, surveying our work while I braided her hair.
“I think we’ve done a great job,” I said.
“I love it. I’m like a princess,” she said, running off toward her bed before I could finish her braid. It came undone immediately as she jumped on her mattress and grinned as she looked around.
I took a picture of her against the backdrop of lights. Her smile lit up her little face. I sent it to Tate, who replied instantly.
Tate: Someone’s happy. Can I also get a picture of you?
Why would he ask that? And why was my heart flipping like that?
Tate had this effect on me. Just remembering his words and the way his lips felt on mine was enough to stoke the fire inside me.
“Let’s take a selfie, Paisley,” I said. “But wait, let me finish your braid first.”
“Okay.” She could barely stand still as I did it, and then she did mine. It was a bit messy, but I liked seeing her confidence grow as she braided my hair again and again, getting better at it each time.
I held the phone up, grinning at the camera as Paisley lifted my braid to the side so it was visible in the photo. Her toothy grin was priceless. She was so proud of herself. I sent it to Tate, along with a message.
Lexi: She’s getting better and better at braiding.
He didn’t reply, so I put my phone away, focusing on Paisley.
“Thank you for helping me with my lights,” she said. “I’ll take a picture with my phone and show it to my friend. She said only mommies could redecorate, and I told her you could do it too.”
My heart sank. I looked at Paisley carefully. Her smile had dimmed a bit. I wasn’t sure what to say. “Any time you want to do something that others get to do with their moms, you can ask your dad or me.”
“I can ask you?” she said, looking up at me with a smile.
“Yes, of course.”
“Okay. I’m going to talk to Mommy later today. I’ll show her the lights. I know she doesn’t have time for me, but I think she might like them anyway.”
My heart ached for her. I had no idea what it must feel like to grow up without your mom. Remembering what Tate said about Nora canceling their vacation together made me angry. Wanting to lift Paisley’s mood, I asked, “Do you want us to look up princess rooms online? That could give us more ideas about what to do with your room.”
Her entire face lit up. She sat on her bed cross-legged. “We can do that?”
“Yes,” I said hesitantly, wondering if I was opening Pandora’s box. Browsing Pinterest led me to redecorate my apartment periodically. Was nine too young to have the redecoration bug? I hoped not, because I had a feeling Paisley was going to follow in my footsteps.
We sat side by side on the bed, and I opened my phone, pulling up the Pinterest app. Paisley fell hook, line, and sinker. She oohed and aahed at almost every picture.
“I want that,” she said, pointing to a white bed with swans as the four posts.
“I’m not sure where you can get that, to be honest,” I said.
Oh man, I had opened Pandora’s box.
“And I want a pink room,” she declared, standing up on her bed, looking around. Then she lay down on the bed, and I hurried next to her. She flashed me yet another grin before cocooning against me. I adored this little girl to bits. If I had a daughter, this was exactly how I’d spend all my free time: thinking up ways to make her laugh.
“I want to paint this wall and that wall, and maybe the ceiling too,” Paisley exclaimed.
Oh, dear Lord. “We should talk to your dad about this.”
***
Tate
When I came home, I heard Paisley’s voice upstairs. She was giggling. I headed straight up, but I didn’t announce my presence immediately; instead, I stood and looked at them through the open door. They were both lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, and something tugged in my chest. Paisley was laughing so easily, and Lexi looked like she belonged here. I took a picture of them with my phone. Lexi was so damn warm and sweet that it was nearly killing me. She was special, and I had to convince her of that. That we needed her.
That I needed her.
I’d hired plenty of people to look after Paisley, but this was different because Lexi genuinely cared. She stirred things inside me that I’d long ago pushed to the back of my mind. I knew she felt the pull too, the attraction and the connection we had.
Ever since the divorce, I’d felt empty inside, and I’d been determined to stay that way. The alternative seemed too dangerous. It still did. Getting involved could only end up badly. My daughter was hurt once. I wouldn’t risk it again. But I couldn’t deny that Lexi made me feel, and that in itself was a damn miracle.
“We have to ask your dad,” she said, snapping me to the present moment.
“Ask me what?” I said, stepping inside the room.
Paisley shrieked, jumping off the bed and coming straight to me. “Daddy, I want to make my room pink,” she said, staring up at me with her toothy grin. “All of it.”
I looked up at Lexi, taking my time as I glanced around the room. I tried to keep a healthy balance of what I allowed my daughter and what I didn’t. I didn’t want her to grow up being spoiled and entitled, but I couldn’t see why she shouldn’t make her room pink.
“Okay,” I said. “I don’t see why not.”
She gave yet another shriek and then ran back to Lexi, jumping on the bed.
Lexi was avoiding my gaze. I watched her intently. She’d missed breakfast this morning. She’d texted to tell me she overslept, but I wondered if that was the only reason. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable, but fuck, just being with her in this room, my daughter’s room—I wasn’t able to keep my thoughts straight. Not when it came to Lexi, and not when I saw how easily she made Paisley smile. She also lit up an inner joy inside me that I didn’t think I was capable of.