I smile slightly at that. Lyra really wants a ride on a Harley, but it’s not our place.
“Sounds about right. So what’s up then if you called?” I change the subject, but unfortunately, it wasn’t really changed, as Dadstates, “Caleb’s school dance next week, he wants you on the chaperone list to supervise.”
What a fucking shocker.
“It’s a no,” I instantly state, and Dad sighs, “Alex…” But his words are cut short when Doc announces, “We’re rolling out!”
“Look, I’ve got to go, tell Caleb I can’t, I’m fully booked at the garage and that I’ll see him in the morning,” I quickly say, and Dad huffs, but I hang up before he can try and talk me into it and put my phone away as I climb on my Harley and start it, trying not to feel guilty.
It’s for the best, I know it is, because Caleb will get ideas in his head, and I won’t have him hurt because he took things the wrong way.
Chapter 4
Holly
I rub my forehead as laughter and squeals echo from outside the classroom window, the children all enjoying their break in the warm sun before they begin their phonics, the usual sense of calm I’d normally feel while at school slowly dispersing, and my tension is rising higher and higher to the point I know I’m going to snap.
“Please, Holly, she just wants to meet her grandchild, she doesn’t even know her name. It’s been nearly eight years since she lost Adam, please...”
Freya’s voice rings in my head—her words from this morning impossible to shake and a heavy unease clings to me.
I took for granted the silence, years of nothing, until now and why I don’t even know…
I look outside just as Lyra runs past my window with the biggest grin on her beautiful face with Caleb right behind giving her his full attention and my chest aches with conflicting happiness and guilt, reminding me of the phone call and everything I’m trying not to feel right now.
He says she’s the little sister he never wanted, that she’s his best friend, and the fact that she has this kind of friendship at her age settles me a little.
Everything I do is for her, all the hard work, keeping a roof over our heads, ensuring she’s safe, even if it means keeping her away from her biological father's family.
I look back at the lesson plan on my desk, and I try to swallow the panic wanting to come out, the guilt that I always feel when Adam comes to mind.
His sister calling me out of the blue after years of silence has brought everything back, and now his cold, dead eyes keep flashing before me, the sound of crunching metal as we hit the tree deafening me, and my anxiety rises.
I want to say, if he wasn’t high, then he wouldn’t have cheated, that he wouldn’t have tried to kill me. Then I think about the twelve girls came forward, all claiming to have been assaulted or raped by him before and during our relationship which just makes me want to vomit. These claims completely contradicted the boy I thought I knew before that night, before my world began to change, before things went off course. I can’t even say they came out for attention because the press picked up theaccident,as his mama likes to call it.
They had proof that and were too scared to go against him, a seventeen year old.
Nothing is how I thought it would be, but I’m trying my hardest for my daughter, to give her the life she deserves. I hope and pray that she never finds out about her father, about hispast, and what he did, what he nearly did to me, which is why I basically told her she didn’t have one.
***
“Where is my daddy, Mama?” Lyra asks innocently as we watch some of my students run to their fathers, and I swallow hard, squeezing her hand a little.
Crap, I knew this day was going to come, but I just… dammit, I wasn’t ready.
Clearing the lump in my throat, I look at my beautiful girl who has her father's nose, and I attempt, “It’s always just been you and me, sweetheart…”
***
I swear I heard her heart shatter when I uttered those words.
Shame prickles beneath my skin. I didn’t know what else to say. I was caught off guard by Lyra’s question, and to be honest, I never got the handbook on what to say when your darling daughter wonders where her father is—especially when that father nearly killed us.
Guilt gnaws at me—I feel like I failed her in that moment but my fear outweighs that. I’d rather her believe she didn’t have a daddy than learn the truth about the monster he became, the sweet boy mask he wore, and the reality that he died when I survived.
I chew my bottom lip with worry, self-doubt pouring in as it always does after hearing from Freya. The pit in my stomach deepens, leaving me uncertain and anxious about every choice I’ve ever made.
I know his mother and sister are her family, but… I sigh as I sit back in my seat. His mother is still delusional and a threat to Lyra.
