Page 64 of His Secret Wish

Chapter 15

Owen sat on the couch, Marissa curled up on his left, her head on his knee. She was sound asleep. Claudia sat at the coffee table, coloring a picture. There were a couple of other kids coloring as well, although he didn’t know their names or who they belonged to. Izzy’s extended family was large, and the distant relatives got a little muddled in his mind.

Somehow, he’d ended up alone in the back sitting room with the kids. He didn’t know where everyone else was, not that he was complaining. He wasn’t really in the mood to be social.

The house had a somber feel, which was understandable. He still couldn’t quite believe Yaya was gone. She’d just been the belle of the ball last night, sitting on her throne, hating every minute of it. She’d always preferred to be in her kitchen, cooking and baking as a way to show her love.

His heart ached, for Izzy, for her family. For himself. Yaya had been one of the few members of Izzy’s family to fully accept him, no questions asked.

“Look.” Claudia came over, holding out her picture. It was messy, barely in the lines, and the colors were nowhere near correct.

“It’s beautiful.” One corner of his mouth lifted, the best he could do under the circumstances.

Claudia smiled, her face brightening. She was so sweet, so innocent. And then her little eyebrows drew together. “Are you sad?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“Oh.” She tapped her finger against her lips, as if she was thinking really hard about something. She’d clearly seen the gesture somewhere, and the fact she was mimicking it was adorable. “Why are you sad?”

He sighed. This was not the conversation he wanted to have, although he should have seen it coming. When everything was going down, he’d taken the girls back outside to finish their snowman and play in what was left of the snow. They didn’t need to see the paramedics and the coroner and all of that. When he’d realized it would be awhile, he’d borrowed Jorge’s van again, and took the girls into town for lunch.

“Well,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. It was hard because his throat was suddenly tight. He pulled her up to sit on his free knee. “Someone that I loved died today.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, absorbing what he said. He had no idea if she knew what death was. If not, there was going to be a hell of a conversation in his future. She glanced up into his face, tears in her eyes. “Like mommy and daddy?”

His heart crumpled like a piece of paper caught in a fist. Jesus, he’d forgotten about that, so absorbed by everything else going on. He was such a fucking idiot. They’d been through so much in their young lives. Fuck, the universe was fucking unfair sometimes.

He patted her back. “Yeah.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Shit, he was so bad at this stuff.

Her lower lip quivered, and then the tears started rolling down her cheeks. For a moment, he panicked, a chill shooting through him. What the hell did he do now?

“I’m sorry, peanut. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He patted her back again, trying to be soothing.

She buried her face against his chest, her little shoulders shaking as she sobbed. He was at a loss of what to do, so he just patted her back and murmured soothing words. His heart cracked a little more, which was surprising, because he didn’t think it could be broken into any smaller pieces.

The other kids kept glancing at them, whispering to each other. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, and he didn’t really give a shit. He wouldn’t be surprised if the fact he’d made Claudia cry spread through the house like a brush fire. One more tick in the we-hate-Owen column.

She didn’t cry for long, which was good. But she also didn’t pull away from him. So, he just continued to pat her back, and wait for her to make the next move.

The one flaw in his plan was that he hadn’t expected her to fall asleep. But that was what happened. Out cold. Not surprising since it had been a long and busy day.

He stood, picking her up and laying her on the couch next to her sister. Some sort of feeling he didn’t understand thrummed through him, making his throat scratchy and his vision blur. He pulled the crocheted blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa over them, making sure it was tucked tight so they wouldn’t get cold.

His shirt was damp where Claudia had her face pressed, and he was pretty sure there was some snot mixed in with the tears. Not that it was her fault. He’d been the one to make her cry. Like an asshole. And an idiot. He’d have to make it up to her, somehow.

Not that it really mattered. Jorge, Yolanda, and their makeshift family were heading back to South Dakota tomorrow, and since he and Izzy were getting divorced, he’d probably never see them again. His chest ached in an unexpected way.

Today had been too much all around.

He wandered out of the sitting room, not sure where he was going exactly. Part of him wanted to get in his truck and drive home, put this weekend and all the stuff that had happened behind him. He reached into his pocket, wrapping his fist around his keys.

But he couldn’t do that. Not to Izzy. He needed to be here for her, for whatever she needed.

He wandered toward the kitchen. There were people milling around the living room, speaking in hushed voices. A few of them were crying. He kept his head down, not in the mood to speak with anyone.

The kitchen was the same, people sitting at the table, or grabbing some of the leftover food spread out on the counter. The thought of eating anything turned his stomach, spitting bile into his throat.

He hurried over to the stairs, sending a silent thanks to the universe that no one stopped or tried to engage him. Not that it was surprising. He was the black sheep, after all. He headed up the stairs. First thing he needed to do was change his shirt.