“Your home is lovely,” she says, her tone too polished.
I don’t bother answering. I’m not interested in polite lies.
Emily crouches down, her skirt pooling around her knees. “You’ve gotten so big,” she tells Isla. “You’re beautiful, just like I imagined.”
Isla only presses tighter against my leg, her fingers fisting the fabric of my jeans. She doesn’t say a word. Smart lass.
Isla eventually looks up at me, uncertainty written all over her face.
“You okay, kiddo?” I ask her. She gives me a small nod before she slowly releases her hold and makes her way to the couch. She perches on the very edge of the cushion.
Emily follows, sitting in the armchair close by, but I remain standing.
“I brought you something,” she says, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package.
Isla glances up at me, hesitation written all over her face before gingerly taking the gift. She peels back the paper, revealing a stuffed dog with floppy ears.
“Thank you,” she mumbles. She doesn’t hug it to her chest or squeal in delight. Instead, she balances it in her lap, testing the weight.
“Do you like dogs?”
Isla shrugs, her shoulders stiff. “They’re okay. I like cats better, though. Lucy has a cat at her flat.”
The mention of Lucy makes Emily’s jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. “That’s nice,” she says, her voice tight. “Maybe you could tell me more about you? What’s your favorite subject?”
Isla’s brows furrow. “Subject?”
“You know,” Emily replies. “Like at school?”
Jesus Christ. Does she really not know Isla hasn’t even started school yet?
Isla blinks up at her, clearly confused. “I don’t go to school yet,” she admits, tugging at the hem of her shirt.
Emily’s smile falters for just a second. “Oh…right,” she says quickly. “Well… What do you like to do, then?”
“Art,” Isla answers. “I’m really good at drawing. Lucy helps me with my letters sometimes.”
Lucy. Every answer circles back to her, and I catch that subtle flash of irritation in Emily’s eyes.
“What about your daddy?” Emily presses, shooting me a quick glance. “Do you two do fun things together?”
Isla’s face lights up for the first time since Emily walked in. “We go fishing and make pancakes on Sundays. And we read stories before bed.” She pauses, then adds, “Lucy reads with us, too. She does funny voices that make Daddy laugh.”
Emily’s hands clench in her lap. “That sounds…wonderful. I was thinking maybe you and I could spend some time together. Just the two of us. Would you like that?”
Isla shrinks back against the couch cushions. “I don’t know,” she whispers, eyes darting to mine for guidance.
“She doesn’t have to decide anything right now,” I interject. How dare she bring upalone timewithout speaking to me first.
Emily blinks, surprised, and I feel the anger rising, slow and hot in my chest. “If you want to spend time with Isla, you talk to me.”
Her composure finally cracks. “Aidan, I’m trying here. Can’t you see that?”
“I can see you’re trying,” I reply evenly. “But she doesn’tknowyou.”
The silence that follows is thick with tension. Emily’s face flushes. “She’s my daughter. I?—”
“Isla,” I cut her off. “Why don’t you go get your drawing pad, love? Show Emily that picture you drew of the loch.”
