“What should I do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Dad said with a shrug. “But I’d do something, or you’re going to lose the girl.”
The thought scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t let that happen. I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love, and I had to stop protecting my heart because of my past. I had to own my feelings and dive off the diving board into the deep end.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” he replied. “It’s what I’m here for.”
I smiled.
By the time I got home, Isla was on the living room floor with markers spread across the coffee table and a half-finished drawing in front of her.
The babysitter looked up from the couch when I walked in. “Everything was good. She ate dinner, did her reading, and tried to convince me that bedtime is optional.”
“It is,” Isla said without looking up.
The babysitter smiled, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door after I paid her. Once she was gone, Isla jumped up and ran at me. I caught her against my chest, one arm around her back, the other around her legs when she wrapped herself around me like she had when she was little.
“Hi, Bug.”
“Hi, Dad.”
She hugged me tighter than usual. That did something to the hollow place in my chest. I carried her to the couch and dropped down with her beside me. She immediately tucked herself against my side, like she had decided I needed the contact more than she did. She showed me the drawing she was working on, which was apparently an ocean but also maybe a portal, depending on how the blue marker situation evolved.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked.
I looked down at her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged, picking at the edge of her sock. “You were sad all week.”
My chest tightened. “I wasn’t sad.”
She gave me a look that reminded me of my mom. “Daddy.”
I sighed and leaned my head back against the couch. “Okay. Maybe a little.”
She nodded like that confirmed something important. “Mila said Catherine is sad too.”
Everything in me went still.
I looked at her. “Mila said that?”
“Yeah. She said Catherine was in her room a lot and her eyes were puffy and she didn’t even get mad when Jaden ate the last brownie, which means something is seriously wrong.”
The words hit me harder than I was ready for. Hearing she was crying in her room while I decided which part of my life to sacrifice first made my chest feel like it was cracking open.
I rubbed a hand over my face. “I hate that she’s sad.”
Isla looked up at me, serious now. “Then do something.”
“I’m trying to figure out what,” I admitted.
“You should get her back,” Isla suggested.
“It’s not that simple, Bug.”
“Why not?” she asked, pushing her lower lip out and making a pouty face that hurt my heart more than it already did.