Will knew that it was a bit ridiculous to continue to live in an apartment with a child when he could afford a home that would give her the things she wanted. He just needed to make up his mind about the beginnings of the house he already had. He’d put the building on a temporary hold once they’d decided to move from Collingsworth, but Delia’s passing had made it permanent. So while the outside of the building was basically complete, the inside was empty. No walls. No furnishings. Nothing.
“We’ll see about moving,” Will said, hoping he wouldn’t regret telling her that. “But it won’t happen right away, so you need to be patient.”
“Really?” Isabella fairly danced around him as he unlocked the door to the apartment. “I promise not to bug.”
Mindful of Jessa’s words about being a daddy, not just a father, Will tried to help Isabella with her bedtime routine. Her independent streak was wide and well established, however, and she just kept saying she could do it herself.
Finally, after she’d turned out her light and crawled under the covers, Will knelt beside her bed. “Listen, Bella.” The ease with which the nickname rolled off his tongue took him by surprise. Yet in that moment, she truly was his Bella. Swallowing hard, he said, “I want to talk to you for a minute. Okay?”
There was a beat of silence. “Am I in trouble?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that,” Will assured her. “I realized today that I haven’t been a very good daddy for you. It was very hard for me when your mommy died.”
“’Cause I made her die?” Isabella asked.
Will felt the breath squeeze from his lungs. “Why do you say that?”
“I heard some of the mommies talking at Megan’s birthday party. They said it was so sad that my mommy had died so I could be born.”
“That’s not true,” Will said, trying to keep the anger he felt toward those women from his tone. “Your mommy had something wrong in her brain that we didn’t know about. Yes, she was pregnant with you when it got really bad, but it wasn’t your fault. You were born early because of what happened to your mommy, but you didn’t make her die.”
“Really? I thought maybe you didn’t love me because of that.”
Will’s eyes closed briefly, and he prayed that God would give him the words to say. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I hurt really badly when Mommy died. I loved her very, very much. After she died, I was scared to love you that much in case something happened to you too. I didn’t want to hurt like that again.”
“So you do love me?” Isabella asked.
“Oh yes, I do,” Will said as he placed a hand on her silky soft hair. “I’m sorry I haven’t done a good job showing you, but I’m going to try to do better.”
“Are you going to be like Uncle Lance is with Julia? Or Uncle Matt and Uncle Dean with their kids?”
“Is that what you’d like?”
“Yes. I’ve wanted a daddy like them.”
Will let out a long sigh. “I’m going to try my best. Be patient with me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, sweetie.” Will leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “See you in the morning.”
As he left the room, Will hoped that he would be able to fulfill his promise to her. For the first time since her birth, he really wanted to. And when he’d said he loved her, he knew the words came straight from his heart. He just wished ithadn’t taken him so long to come to his senses. He was a fool. A stupid, selfish fool. But he was going to try to make it up to her as best he could.
He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee before heading for his study. After setting the mug on the desk, Will removed his phone from the holder on his belt and settled into his chair. As he turned on his computer monitor, he found his thoughts going to Amy. He needed to give her a call. He glanced at the time in the corner of his monitor. It was still early enough that he could probably call her.
He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts to find where he’d entered her information earlier.
When she answered, he said, “Hey. It’s Will.”
“Hi. Hang on a second.”
He heard her rustling around and wondered if he’d gotten her out of bed.
“Okay. Sorry about that,” Amy said. “Just wanted to grab my notebook where I’d made some notes.”
“Notes?”
“Yes. For the party. You don’t throw a party like this without some organization,” Amy informed him.
