Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I think we should talk about us,” Eva says.
I don’t look at her. I should have known by the way she’s been acting that she thinks I’ll take her back.
No way is that happening.
“There is no ‘us’ to talk about.”
“Lucas, I’ve had a lot of time to think. I know I didn’t appreciate you like I should have. I’m just asking for a chance to prove I’ve changed, that we can make this work.”
“That’s never going to happen.” I glance at her. “You want a relationship with your daughter, I’m all for that. You’re her mom. She needs you in her life. But there’s nothing for us to go back to.”
“Is this because of the woman you’re seeing?”
“Partly. I won’t let you come between what Courtney and I are building, but even if I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t go there with you.”
“Really?” she asks snidely, like she can’t believe anyone wouldn’t want her.
As Maddi heads back to the table, I stand and look down at Eva, saying quietly, “Work on your relationship with your daughter, Eva. She’s growing up and doing it fast. You’ve already missed out on a lot.” I stop speaking when Maddi reaches the table, then sit down after she slides into the booth.
Through the rest of dinner, Eva is quiet. I can tell she’s not happy, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s in my past, and I plan on keeping her there. When we leave the restaurant, she kisses Maddi’s head and tells her goodbye, then tries to give me a hug. I back away from her before she even gets close. From the look in her eyes, I can tell she’s taking my rejection as a challenge.
“Daddy, why doesn’t my mom love me?” Maddi’s softly spoken question as I tuck her into bed later that night makes my chest tighten and anger flow through my veins.
I always knew that she wondered why she didn’t have a typical mother-daughter relationship with Eva, but I had no idea that she thought her mom didn’t love her.
“She does love you.” I lean into her, resting my hand against her soft cheek.
“I don’t think she does. I wish Courtney was my mom,” she whispers back.
Looking into my baby girl’s eyes, I vow that I won’t let Eva cause any more damage than she already has. I need to do a better job of protecting Maddi from her.
“Your mom does love you. Never doubt that.” I lean in and kiss her forehead, holding my lips there and wishing that I could change her mom. Wishing I could make Eva see what she’s doing to our daughter. “Are you ready for a story?” I scoot her over and lie down next to her.
“I wish Courtney was here to read to me,” she says, cuddling into me. My chest tightens even further.
“She’ll be here to read to you tomorrow,” I promise her.
I love that my baby is falling for the woman I’m falling in love with—a woman I know is worthy of that love. The differences between Courtney and Eva are glaringly obvious, especially when it comes to how they interact with Maddi.
When I finally get into my bed, I call Courtney and tell her about dinner. I tell her about the looks from Eva and the comments. I want to be honest with her, but I also want to warn her. I listen to her soft voice telling me she’s sorry. The anger I was holding on to vanishes, and I know that, with her, it will always be like that. She soothes me, brings me peace and comfort when I need it most. I love my daughter with everything I am, but I wonder what it would have been like if I had met Courtney first.
“Oh no.” I hear Courtney say this from the kitchen, where she and Maddi have been making dinner.
I put down the plans I’ve been working on at my drawing table and head that way, noticing that both girls are now quiet. They are never quiet. Or I should say Maddi is never quiet when Courtney is around. Since the moment Courtney and Merida got here, Maddi has been talking a mile a minute about school, her party, and the boy she kicked in the nuts—whom she now apparently has a crush on, though I’ve been ignoring that last part for the sake of my own sanity.
“Are they supposed to be black like that?” Maddi’s worried voice fills the silence as the smell of smoke fills the air.
I make my way around the high counter that divides the kitchen from the living room, then stop. Courtney has the oven door open. Smoke is billowing out, and Maddi is peeking over her shoulder, trying to look into the oven.
“I don’t think so.” Courtney coughs, waving the oven mitt in front of her face.