I ignore the fact Preston already sketched out the answer. I just have to admit I want it too.
Maybe that starts with me believing I actually deserve it.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
preston
I’ve wandered into fantasyland—onlybetter, because this is actually my life now. And it’s so good I half expect someone to pull the rug out from under me if I dare say it out loud.
Lily’s birthday is this weekend, and I’m about to risk a conversation I’m not sure she’s ready for. But I’ll test the waters anyway, since she’s the sovereign of all my kingdoms, imaginary or otherwise, and nothing moves forward without my daughter’s decree.
Dinner went on longer than usual, laughter stretching the meal way past Lily’s bedtime. I suggest we split night duties—Mia tackling the messy kitchen while I put Lily to bed. She runs upstairs, Little Miss Independent, and I make my lazy way there, after kissing Mia slowly enough to make her swoon. Audibly.
I find my kid in her pajamas, the top inside out, hair sticking every which way after undoing her own braids, already tucked under the covers.
I sit on the edge of her bed, smoothing the blanket over her legs, while the question claws its way up my throat.
“Sunshine,” I start carefully, “how’s therapy with Dr. Lark going? We haven’t talked about that for a while.”
“It’s good. I like her. She has nicer dolls than I do, you know? I got to play with the new vet Barbie there last week.”
I laugh at the dig and make a mental note for the extra birthday present.
“Great to hear. Remember that I’m always here to listen to you too, okay? You can always talk to me.”
“I know.” She says it without hesitation, looking at me with a steadiness that squeezes something deep in my chest. We smile at each other, then I tickle her into a fit of giggles. The melody begs the question. How did I ever let myself miss this? How did I convince myself that work was worth the trade?
“So…” I shift on the mattress, smoothing the blanket again, trying to line my words up before I speak. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. You can tell me if it’s too weird, okay?”
She nods, perfectly at ease, sinking deeper in bed, while I silently run through the differences between an anxiety attack and an actual heart attack.
I clear my throat and quit stalling. “How would you feel if I… started dating again?”
Her head tilts, all serious eyes and scrunched nose. “You mean like… a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” The air goes still, waiting for her answer.
She shrugs, casual as if I’d just asked which socks for the day. “That’s fine. But…” She lifts a finger.
Oh fuck.
“Can I choose?”
My pulse stutters. So does my voice. “Ch-choose?”
“Yep. I want to pick. I already know who.”
Of course I’m curious, but this could end in fireworks or carnage. She can choose the woman I’m falling for. If she names her nanny, I’m throwing my kid up in the air, and we’re going out to buy a lottery ticket.
Or, bile rises up my throat, she could name her favorite auntie, and I’ll projectile vomit on top of my firstborn and only daughter. Or… a darker voice, from the corner where my worst fears reside, whispers that she might ask for her mom back, and I’d have nothing left to give her but splinters. Either way, I can’t stop sweating, and smearing my pants isn’t off the table.
Unlike me, Lily doesn’t hesitate.
“Duh, Dad. Isn’t it obvious? Mia!” Lily kicks her feet under the blanket. “She makes you smile way more than you did before, like, way more, and she makes me laugh so hard my tummy hurts. She does all those funny voices when she reads. Remember the dragon one? That’s the best. And she’s really, really good at Go Fish. Better than you.” She pokes me, grin turning sassy. “And the house isn’t quiet all the time now, it’s… fun. And Mia listens to me, like, really listens. And she never forgets ‘no crusts’ on my sandwiches. And she even sings the silly songs I make up, even if they don’t rhyme.” She takes a fast little breath in, then snuggles deeper into her pillow, her voice soft but certain. “She just… belongs here. With us. Don’t you think?”
Fuck. There goes Lily, observant and wise beyond her years, rattling off truth like it’s the ABCs. I press a hand over hers, desperate for steady ground. When I find my voice, it comes out rough.
“I do, Lil. I really do.”
