Both Mr. Gatlin and I stare at her. “No, ma’am,” I say.
“You what?” he asks in disbelief.
Her smile grows. “We would get you kids off to school on Tuesdays and then meet up for coffee.”
“Millicent?” Mr. Gatlin nearly chokes on her name. “Are you kidding me?”
She rolls her eyes and then turns to me. “Your mother was a lovely woman. I miss her friendship. We knew we had to keep our meetings just between us for the same reason. That we had hardheaded husbands who wouldn’t understand. While I don’t think the road ahead for you both is easy, if you love each other, I hope you’re willing to fight against all the people who will be against you.”
“I am.”
Mr. Gatlin grunts. “Great.”
She smiles and winks at me. “Lark is worth it.”
“Lark is worth everything.”
“Good grief,” he mutters under his breath before speaking directly to me. “You better be worth it, because if you break her heart, I’ll break your neck.”
“Understood.”
I’ll never do anything to hurt her once I fix the mess I already made.
Chapter 38
Tristan
Sadie is holding my hand, trembling as we walk into the waiting room. Yesterday the doctor informed us he was considering taking Lark out of her coma and allowing her to wake on her own. The swelling has gone down, but he wanted to give it a little more time considering where she hit her head and how long it took before her brother found her.
I learned that Lark had set up a shortcut on her phone. It’s something she does with anyone she trains. When she told her phone she fell, it alerted two contacts that she chose with her location and a text stating she’d been hurt and needed help.
That’s how she was found so fast, and the doctors said it probably saved her life.
Deacon raced out to her and immediately got her medical care.
It’s really smart and something I plan to do with Sadie and my sisters.
“Daddy?” Sadie pulls my hand, stopping us both.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know if I should go in there. They probably hate me.”
I shake my head. “No one hates you, love. It’s me they hate.” I joke, but it’s also not a lie.
Her brothers are barely tolerating me, and, really, it’s only because Mrs. Gatlin threatened to put them in beds next to Lark if they did anything that might threaten her recovery. Yesterday I asked whether Sadie could come and explained why.
All of them agreed without hesitation—even her brothers.
Then it was my turn to threaten that if anyone made my daughter cry, I’d kill them.
“That’s not funny,” she says.
“I know. No one hates anyone today. We’re all here for Lark, okay?”
She nods. “Do they know it’s my fault?”
I cup her cheek. “Sadie, none of this is your fault. No one thinks you did anything wrong.”
