“So, do you?” She runs her finger along the inside of her bowl and brings it to her lips. “Love her?”
I don’t want to lie to my daughter any more than I’m going to have to, so I give her this truth. “Yes, I do, but that has to be our little secret, okay?”
She nods before nibbling on her lip. “Daddy?” My daughter is in an inquisitive mood today.
“Yes, princess?”
“Do you love my mommy?”
My stomach plummets to my toes, and bile crawls up my throat. When Darcy was four, she asked why she didn’t have a mommy like everyone else. I was so fucking tempted to say her mother was dead, but that wouldn’t work in a town like this, where everyone knows our history. So, I had to get creative. Isaid her mommy had an illness and she wasn’t able to take care of her, but she was loved by me, her nanny and grandad, her aunt, uncle, and cousin, and it seemed to appease her. Lately, she’s been asking questions again, and at eight, it’s getting harder to fudge the truth.
Case in point.
“Your mommy gave me you, and I love you very, very much.”
Before she can form her next question, I jump in with a distraction. “How about a trip to the art and crafts store? You can pick out a new paint-by-numbers kit.”
It’s shameless, but it works, and I’ve deflected that line of questioning for now.
“I don’t know what I’m going to tell her when she’s older and starts asking the hard questions,” I tell Riley later that night when we’re out for a few drinks at our local bar. “Darcy can never know the truth because it would devastate her and make her question her entire existence.”
“You’re a great dad. You’ll figure it out,” Myles says, placing a tray with beers onto the high table. It’s hopping tonight, and we nabbed one of the last tables in the place.
“I don’t envy you, man.” Travis distributes the beers. “You’re caught between a rock and a hard place.”
“Don’t borrow tomorrow’s problems today,” Marlon says, lifting his beer.
He’s right, so I shove those thoughts aside to worry about another time.
We’re a few beers in when Riley digs me in the ribs.
“Ow. What the fuck was that for?”
“Look who just walked in.” He gestures toward the door, and it’s not difficult to pinpoint Astrid and Renee because they’re both taller than your average female and way better looking than the other women here tonight. Heads turn, and eyes track their movement as they walk farther into the room, skimming the crowded space, trying to find a free table, I guess.
Riley lifts his hand and hollers. “Astrid! Over here.”
“If you set this up, you’re dead, mate.” I level a look at Riley as the girls walk towards us. He’s gotten closer with Astrid these past couple of weeks, and while I appreciate my friends are rooting for me, I made it blatantly clear no one is to interfere for reasons that should be fucking obvious.
“I swear I didn’t. I mentioned we go out for drinks the last Saturday of every month, but I never said where.”
“My wife said Astrid is a looker, and she isn’t wrong,” Myles says as they draw nearer.
“She’s always been gorgeous, inside and out.”
“Renee, it’s great to see you.” Riley climbs off his stool and hugs our old school friend.
“Great to see you too. Astrid told me you’re all working together.” She shucks out of his hug, and her gaze travels around the table. “Callan. Travis.” Renee’s greeting is a little cooler, but that’s okay.
“You look well, Renee.” I haven’t seen her in years. “Still living in Texas?”
“Yeah. I’m married now and settled there. I just popped back for a couple of days to catch up with Astrid.”
“Hey.” I smile at my ex.
“Hi.” Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips, and I can tell she’s nervous.
I make introductions and slide off my stool. “What can I get you ladies to drink?”
