Dropping Annabeth home this morning damn near broke me. Have I mentioned that being away from her at this point feels like a chunk of my soul being ripped from inside me and completely discarded? No? Well, it does.
I’m racking my brain trying to figure out how the hell I’m gonna tell Billie that I’m seeing someone, let alone that someone being herfavourite teacher.Jesus fuck, Dallas. What were you thinking? This is all kinds of not on, and here you are, driving straight towards a wallwith the damn brake lines cut.
“Daddy,” my favourite voice rings out from across the lot. I didn’t even notice the bus pull in.
“Princess,” I call back to her. The smile on my face starts to hurt my cheeks as she rushes for me.
Billie-Mae leaps into my arms, her own wrapping around my neck as she squeals with delight.God, I missed my little bumble.In true Billie form, before I can lower her enough for her feet to even touchthe ground, she’s already rattling off a million-and-one stories without so much as taking a breath.
“Okay, okay, okay, breathe Billie,” I tell her, taking her suitcase.
She climbs into my ute, still yapping away as I pack her luggage into the tray before joining her in the cab. Her beaming smile is spread from ear to ear as she recounts the talent show from camp and tells me all about her new frenemy, Jacinta.
“What the hell is a frenemy?” I ask her.
“Ugh, Dad, you’re soold.A frenemy is someone who’s your friend, but you gotta keep an eye on ’em. Make sure they don’t mess with you,” she explains.
“You sound like your bloody Uncle,” I laugh.
“I can’t wait to show Ms Harrington the song I learnt at camp.”
Well, here goes nothing…
We’ve been sitting in the kitchen for what feels like an eternity. Coltarrived mid-conversation. I’m unsure if that makes this better orworse.Billie twiddles her thumbs, picking at the skin of her fingernails. She’s biting her lip and occasionally opens it to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Talk to us, Bumble,” Colt says.
She finally looks up at me, her blue eyes sparkling with what I swear is a hint of worry. Her brow creases, a few rogue strands of golden curls wrap across her freckled cheeks. I know she’s processing, and I’m trying to be patient; this is a lot to absorb for her, and I know I need to show her some grace.
I lift my hand slightly, pressing my fingers to hers in an attempt to put her at ease. She doesn’t speak, just sits there and continues staring at me. I know I’ve fucked up. My mind is racing faster than my heartbeat at this point. Have I screwed this up? My heart is now pounding so hard I can hear it ringing in my ears, and I swear it’s going to beat out of my chest and smack me.
“Daddy?” she asks, softly.
“Yes, Princess?”
“You are the strongest person I know, and the kindest—”
“Billie—”
“Please let me finish,” she says, and I do.
“Ms Harrington is the luckiest girl in the world.”
“What do you mean?” I ask her, confused.
“Because she gets to be loved by my dad, and my dad is thecoolestperson in Hawks Hollow.”
I can’t hold back my tears. Grabbing her in a bear hug, I grip her into my chest, her soft breaths a quiet comfort that I hadn’t realised I’d missed so much. Her hair smells like citrus andcoconut – just like her mother’s used to. I feel a sharp pang inside me, and I swear my heart is going to burst out of my chest, but with love this time.
Somehow, in the blink of an eye, my tiny, fragile little baby has grown into a wise-beyond-her-years little sass-pot, and she’s sopure.I’m overwhelmed, completely in awe of my daughter. Holding her here in my arms, her head on my chest as she looks up at me – her eyes sparkling like pristine pools of water from some island I will never visit – I almost forget Colson is standing beside me.
“I amsoproud of you, Billie-Mae Northlane,” we say in unison.
I glance at my brother, his expression a mixture of trepidation and relief. He closes the small gap in one stride, before wrapping his arms around us. This is my family, the people I have fought so hard to protect, to provide for. The most important people in the entire world.Mypeople.
“So, where is she?” Billie asks, releasing our hug.
Colt and I must have the same oddly confused expression on our faces, because she continues, “Where’s Ms Harrington?”
