I shut her up with a kiss because I have too much on my mind right now to fight with her. She wants to keep us a secret, and she’s probably right. For a little while longer at least, but if this thing is going where I want it to go, then I’ll have to tell Stella, and I won’t be able to keep Elle a secret because I don’t want to keep her a secret.
I kiss her, reassuring her until my kisses and reassurances turn into lust and passion, then I take her once more in the shower before I wash her hair and her body, then I’m forced to kiss her sleeping lips good night to sneak back out into the cold, dark night and into my house. I shut the door behind me, the warmth and comfort of my home a relief as I lock everything up and set the alarm.
But as I walk through the first floor toward the stairs, I halt in my steps, stunned at what I find waiting for me.
27
I feel caught as my teenage daughter sits on the second to the bottom step, waiting for me. Such an odd role reversal, but here it is. Stella was upset when we came home from the fair, and no matter how hard I pressed, she refused to tell me why. After locking herself up in her room, she was asleep when I left.
Or so I thought.
I will admit, this is all new for me. I never snuck out. It was impossible from the compound. The security in that place is insane. It’s a million miles to anything from there, and well, I never had a good reason to try. I have no idea how this is supposed to go or what I’m supposed to say to my thirteen-year-old as she stares me down like she’s getting ready to yell and then ground me.
“Were you with Elle?” She looks impossibly hurt.
Oh boy. I take a seat on the step beside her. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was faking it.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I swallow and stare into my daughter’s eyes. My wife’s eyes. “Yes. I was with Elle.”
“Are you… are you… having sex with her?” She swallows and blushes, her gaze falling a bit from mine, but she leaves that heavy question hanging between us.
Shit. Sometimes it’s awesome being a single dad to a daughter. This is not one of those moments.
“Yes.” And please God, don’t ask me to elaborate on that.
She nods and falls silent, staring at the carpet on the stairs between us, and I have no fucking clue what to say.
“I thought you didn’t like her. You were always kind of mean to her. At least when she first moved in.”
“I tried not to like her.”
“Because of Mom?”
My insides tighten. “Because of a lot of reasons.”
She nods, and I find myself staring down at the top of her head, wishing she’d look up so I could figure out what she’s thinking. “I know why you blame yourself for Mom.”
My lungs empty, and my chest clenches like it’s caught in a vise.
Now she looks up. Straight at me. “Uncle Oliver and Uncle Carter told me.”
I nod. That’s all I’ve got. In a way, I’m relieved they did because how do you tell your daughter you’re the reason her mother is dead? On the other hand, it should have come from me, and it should have come a long time ago.
“Why did they?” It’s likely the wrong question, but I’m curious.
She leans forward, bringing her feet up to the first step and dropping her elbows to her thighs. A frown pulls down her lips as her eyes train toward the front door, and fear grips me. The thought of losing my daughter’s love is the most crushingly terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced, and I lost my wife.
This is why I never told her. This. This right here. I can’t breathe, and my heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest, silently begging her the way I am.
“I saw you walk off with Elle. I saw you take her hand, and Uncle Oliver noticed I did. We met up with Grace and Uncle Carter, and I heard them talking about it a little when they didn’t realize I was listening. They talked about how relieved they were that you were finally putting the past behind you and moving forward.”
“Bellas—”
“I asked them why you blamed yourself for Mom—that I had overheard from Grandma and Grandpa a few years ago—and Uncle Carter and Uncle Oliver told me about the fight you had with her that night. The things you said.”
Emotion clogs my throat, and I do my best to clear it, but her utterly despondent tone and expression break me in two, and a tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. My head falls in shame, my heart cracking open, bleeding out.
“I didn’t know how to tell you. Bellas, I’m so sorry.”
She swivels in my direction and takes me in, our faces only illuminated by the soft glow of the small lamp on the entryway table. “I told Mercedes Smart that she was a stupid, insecure bitch, and I hoped she died a painfully slow death.”
I startle back an inch. “What?”
“She was teasing me. Making fun of me for things I’d rather not tell my dad, but I said it to her. I was angry and upset, and I lashed out. Shouted something I didn’t mean to her.”
“Honey, I—”
“I know you loved Mom. I know you wish it had been you instead of her. I overheard that too.”
Fuck.
“We all say stuff we don’t mean.” Her eyes shift back and forth between mine. “I don’t blame you for what happened to her. You didn’t mean what you said, just like I didn’t. It just took me a little while tonight to figure that all out in my head.”
More tears fall, and there’s no way I can stop them. A shudder wracks through me, and I grab my daughter, dragging her to my chest and holding her firmly against me. She grips my shirt with her small fists as her body trembles and jerks while she cries softly against me.
For a few minutes, I rock her, hold her, cry with her, feeling so blessed and undeserving. Feeling a lightness I haven’t felt since the day she was born. She’d make her mother so proud, and I know Reese is watching us now, feeling this with us.
“I love your mom, Bellas. I always have, and I always will. I miss her.” Especially right now. I’d give anything for Reese to see Stella like this. Growing up and so sweet and smart and beautiful and perfect.
“I miss her too. I wish I had known her.”
A bite into my lip to stop a sob. “I wish that too. So much.”
“I know, Dad,” she whispers into me, her voice hoarse. Pulling back, she wipes her tear-soaked face, and I do the same with mine while keeping her close to my side, pressed into me. Her watery blue eyes lock on mine. “But now you love Elle too?”
I lick my lips. “I think I might, yeah.”
“Are you going to marry her?”
Christ on a cracker, how do I answer that? “I don’t know, Bellas. It’s far too soon to think about that. She’s recently divorced, and we’ve only been… we’re not exactly…” Fuck, I don’t know what to say. “It’s new, and we don’t want to rush anything. I don’t want to rush her. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so.”
“She also wants to keep it quiet for now.”
Her eyes sparkle up at me as I run my hand down her long, long hair. “Because of me? Because she’s my teacher?”