His voice sounded, and for a single second, hope bloomed in her chest…but it wasn’t him. It was his voicemail.
He hadn’t answered. Just like he hadn’t answered any of her other calls.
She choked back a sob, hanging up and calling again.
She wasn’t sure how many times she called him, but at some point, she stopped.
He wasn’t coming.
She was alone in this.
The desolation felt like a rock on her chest, pushing and squeezing, making the room around her sway and the color shift to a grayscale.
Almost blindly, she scrolled up until she found the name she was looking for, then she clicked on it. He answered on the second ring.
“Callie, baby, what’s wrong?”
“Daddy…I need you.”
Callie shot into a sitting position,eyes whipping open, heart pounding in her chest. Immediately she tugged the covers back, needing to see the crisp white of her sheets.
No blood. It was just a dream. A nightmare. A memory.
She dropped her head into her hands, sweat coating her palms. She hadn’t woken like this in a long time. Had it been naive of her to think the nightmares were behind her?
Of course it had. Lock was back, and with him came all the memories.
Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing. On letting her pulse return to normal and the panic slip away. That memory, that day, would forever be ingrained inside her. Like a permanent fracture to the person she once was.
Scrubbing a hand over her face, she was about to get up when the ringing of her phone had her flinching.
Jesus Christ. Calm down, Callie. It’s just a call.
She reached over, smiling when she saw who it was.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, baby. Just checking in because I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
Her grin widened. “We spoke yesterday when you did one of my classes.”
“Exactly.”
Man, she loved him. She climbed out of bed. “Well, lucky for you, I’m coming over for dinner tonight.” She tried to get to her dad’s as often as possible. It had only been a few days sinceshe’d made him the prime rib, and tonight she was making him meatloaf.
“Okay, but I’m cooking.”
She stepped into the bathroom. “No, Dad, I’m already—”
“You’ve made me dinner the last three visits.”
“Because I want to take care of you.”
“I’m your father.Itake care ofyou.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve taken care of me my entire life. It’s my turn.” Although, shecoulduse some looking after. She checked her reflection, noting the deep circles under her eyes. Gah. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m doing great because I get to see my daughter as often as I like and that makes me happy.”
