She shook a little and the air wasn’t cold enough for that reaction, so I knew it had to do with her anxiety.
“Talk to me,” I asked gently, cupping her face with my palms.
She let out a breath and relaxed a bit from my touch. My heart hammered, knowing something as simple as me offering comfort to help her had me choking up.
“I’m scared, Daddy,” she cried, her little lips wobbling as fresh tears came. I leaned forward, kissing her forehead, her little whimpers making me want to destroy the world.
“We don’t have to go,” I offered. “We can stay home.” Her being this anxious made me uneasy, but I couldn’t force my daughter—or any of my kids—to do something they didn’t want to.
“I want to see your momma,” she hiccupped.
“Why are you scared, baby?” I asked, swiping away her tears as she tried explaining her emotions. It wasn’t easy. As an adult who constantly struggled, this much I knew from personal experience. A daily battle I’d still never truly won.
“I-I don’t w-want to move a-away,” she whimpered, her words stuttering. Andy finally looked at us, anxiety stiffening her features. I shook my head, silently telling her it was okay, and she watched from afar anyway.
“Baby girl,” I let out, bringing her to my chest. She was so troubled over something and I didn’t understand it. “We’re not going anywhere. Just a visit.”
“Marty s-said you were going t-to leave m-me b-because I’m not your r-real d-daughter,” she sobbed, her small frame shaking my own as she let out her sorrow. Martin Shellster was a little shit from her daycare, he always hurt her feelings. He was much older than her, always teasing her. I was close to kicking his ass, even if he was a kid. No one hurt my children without repercussions.
“Baby girl, listen to me,” I reassured, using the softest tone I could offer. “You are my daughter. My little girl. You are mine, do you understand?”
She nodded but still cried, blinking back tears.
“I love you so much, Nadia, so, so much. No one can take that away from us, okay?”
She leaned into me, hugging me tighter. Her little hands balling into fists as she clutched my neck and I lifted her, carrying her toward the plane.
“Everything okay, sweet pea?” Andy asked as her eyes appeared stricken. Much like me, she didn’t appreciate seeing our kids upset, and especially since she was far away while Nadia cried.
“It’s okay,” I confirmed. “Our little girl just needed reassurance that we love her very much.”
Turning toward Andy, so Nadia faced her, she kissed her forehead. “I love you so much, Nad, you’re my special little princess.”
Nadia hiccupped, reaching for her mom, while I felt the completion of my heart. This life—with my family—it was everything I hoped for and more.
I never allowed myself to think I’d become a dad, let alone one to four children who gave me a new purpose.
When Andy told me she was pregnant, I promised myself to get it together, not be my parents, and learn to be the best version of me so they’d have the best version of their dad.
I’ve kept that promise, and I’ll continue to do so.
Chapter Sixty-Three
If Only – Andrea Bocelli & Dua Lipa
Andy
The flight to Kempville was peaceful. Since Dox and Harley’s funeral, I hadn’t been here. Not needing to exist in a place they hated, pretending to be someone else.
“Are we here?” Asper asked, his messy hair misshaped from sleeping on it. He was such a sweet boy, kind and quiet. There were so many thoughts and emotions in his head, I could tell every time I looked at him.
He tried being strong, the kid who could be tough and what Madden and I needed, but he didn’t need to be.
We wanted him to live, be free of stress, and never worry too much. He reminded me a lot of my husband, unable to compartmentalize his thoughts when they overwhelmed him.
“We’re here,” Madden announced, kissing Nadia’s forehead. She hadn’t left our side since entering the plane.
Madden told me the little shit kid was bullying her. It made me want to be rash, yell at his parents, scream at them all for not doing anything about it.
But I sat back, wondering about the best way to enforce change, hoping I’d come up with an answer by the time we were home.
Our kids didn’t know Madden was technically my nephew. We decided to divorce that fact from their lives for now. By the time they were adults, they might see articles, but it wasn’t something they needed to worry about now.
But when we went to their graveside today, I’d have to keep the fact that I was visiting my brother from them.
It hurt, only cherishing them as my husband’s family.
***
We drove toward Maple and Oak. The cemetery on the outskirts of Kempville. The place we decided to bury them. It was a place that they lived for most of their lives. While they hid Madden and their lives from everyone, this tiny Podunk town was their home.
I reached over to Madden, grabbing his hand in mine. Our eyes met, his mirroring the sadness festered in us both.
He squeezed my palm, rubbing his thumb up and down, comforting in the way he could.
Touch.
It took so long for him to freely touch me, naturally. No flinching or second-guessing, no doubt, and I cried when his affinity for hating touch didn’t stay for our children, he held our babies, kissed their faces, and let them hug and kiss him back.
He loved and doted on them so much. It was the most beautiful part of our lives, witnessing him be himself, loving recklessly, promising them the world.
“Are we there yet?” Addie asked, eyeing everything she could see out the window.
“Almost, baby. We’ll be there soon.”
Cars and the band took the other vehicle, Royal went with them. Nadia, Asper, and Addie were with us as we approached the cemetery.
The car stopped. There was something so final about it. Madden peered over at me, the solemnity resting just beneath the brave face he put on.
“Ready?” I asked, not knowing what else to say to him.
Closing his eyes, he nodded absently, grabbing the door handle at the same time. I turned to the kids and waved for them to follow.
Asper blinked a couple of times, almost like he knew the gravity of this moment, and I could give him the biggest hug for being able to compartmentalize those emotions.
Because I couldn’t.
Not right now.
My feet touched the ground as we meandered through the cemetery. Royce bought a huge gated plot for the Reavers. When Madden left, unable to function, he stepped up, taking care of what needed taken care of.
Our steps were hushed, with no crunching of branches or leaves. It was summer, the sky was bright, and it almost seemed solemn.
The band followed behind us, silence eating the distance between us all. Madden upped his pace, moving to grab my hand.
One after one, our children all linked hands with us as we made our way to the Reaver plot. We stared at each other for a moment, our eyes connecting with an absent meaning. We were communicating with our hearts somehow, both acknowledging what this moment meant to us both.
Leaning toward me, he kissed my cheek and when we finally got to the gate, my heart hammered. Somehow, seeing their gravestones, it felt so real.