“Maybe six months ago, when we first saw this place on that travel show.” He shrugged.
“It’s not a big birthday. I’m thirty-three.”
“They’re all big to me,mija.” He winked, pulling my mother closer. Instead of laughing at him like she used to, she frowned when she met his gaze.
“How’s the headache?” she asked as she rubbed his neck.
“Headache?”
He waved a hand at me. “It’s probably this crazy weather, and work has been a pain in the ass.”
“While that’s true,” Mom said then narrowed her eyes at him, “the weather doesn’t cause neck pain and blurry vision. I told you to call the doctor.”
“Your vision is blurry? Dad, I don’t like that.”
He rolled his eyes and let out a loud sigh. “The two of you worry too much. I did call the doctor, and they could only fit me in today, so I moved it to Monday. It’s nothing, but I’ll go and confirm to make your mother feel better.”
Mom and I shared a look as he took a pull from his beer bottle.
“Stop, really. There was no need to cancel our tradition for a tension headache.” He reached over the table to squeeze my hand. “I don’t miss my daughter’s birthday.”
“He never made it to the doctor.” I swallowed, trying to continue the story I hadn’t repeated since my father died. “He went to sleep Sunday night and never woke up.”
Tyler’s head fell back against the wall as his eyes held mine. “Is that why you blame yourself and won’t let anyone celebrate your birthday?”
“Maybe if I wasn’t so spoiled, if he didn’t think I expected it—”
“He loved doing that for you every year. Don’t forget, I was dragged to every single party.Hechose to not go to the doctor—you didn’t ask him to skip it. You didn’t even know he was having headaches.”
I shrugged. “I would have if I lived closer or visited more. I also egged him on every year. I loved the attention too much.”
“So what? He loved giving it to you. And he would hate that you feel this way now.”
I shrugged as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I always loved attention too much. You more than anyone know how much of a problem that always was.”
He tightened his arms around me, shaking his head when I lifted my gaze. “Whether or not you loved it or that you schemed ways to get it, you had it anyway. From your dad, from me.” He skated his thumb along my jaw. “You can’t be ignored, no matter what you do or don’t do. He loved making you happy, and you enjoyed it all. Why is any of that a bad thing?”
“Because if he didn’t think my birthday dinner was so damn important, he would have gotten checked out and he’d still be here.”
“Or maybe they wouldn’t have found it in time, and you would have missed out on a great night with your father and a good last memory, even though you’re torturing yourself with it now.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “My grandmother always says that what-ifs are worthless because there’s only what is.”
“There you are!”
Tyler and I both turned to Helen’s voice.
“She’s up and talking, with no signs of stroke.” She sat down on the floor in front of us. “Just a probable concussion. She still needs a few more tests, but the doctor has the same theory as me—she just took a bad fall.”
My entire body slumped against Tyler in relief, yet I kept crying.
“Do you need a minute before you see her?”
“Yes, she does,” he answered for me as he adjusted me in his lap and tightened his hold around me.
“Take your time, sweetheart.” She cupped my jaw and headed back to the emergency room.
I savored one last minute in Tyler’s arms and shifted off his lap.
“You’re kinda cute when you go all alpha.” A laugh slipped out through my sniffles. “Thank you for being here.”
