“You had us worried, pumpkin.” There was a roughness to Peter’s voice that Jack more than understood.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Em whispered.
Peter stood up and placed a kiss on her head before turning his attention to Jack.
“Has she been here long?” There was a desperation in his voice that had Jack on edge.
“Only a couple of minutes.” He needed—no, he wanted to soothe the man. “Her bike is in the back of my truck.”
Peter closed his eyes for a split second before squatting down beside her again. “Honey, why did you sneak out of the house? Your mom is worried sick about you right now.”
There was a look in Em’s eyes that Jack knew all too well. He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.
“You left without me, and Papa was here waiting,” she said before taking a bite of her donut. She gave the impression that she didn’t understand what she’d done, but Jack knew otherwise. He’d seen the fear and worry in her eyes moments before she threw herself into his arms.
“Oh, honey.” Jack sat back down in his chair and waited for her to look at him. “You know what you did, don’t you?”
The donut dropped from her hand as she nodded.
“I think you owe your daddy an apology, don’t you?”
She nodded and lowered her gaze before jumping at the sound of her name being called from across the small store.
“Emma!”
Relief flooded through Megan’s body the moment she saw her daughter. Once Peter had told her where Emma was, it was as if her whole world had exploded in front of her. She didn’t want to believe him. She couldn’t believe him. All his talk about trusting him flew out the window in that moment.
“Megan, wait.” Megan almost yanked her arm out of Laurie’s grasp but stopped. Thank God for Laurie being there. She’d driven to the donut shop after Megan managed to get their neighbor’s eldest daughter to watch Hannah and Alexis.
The small donut shop was silent when she screamed her daughter’s name. She looked around the space, took in the dozen small tables and the single waitress standing behind the counter, and noticed how all the people in the store stared at her.
She focused on the men who stood at the table where her daughter sat. Her husband and…Jack.
She took tentative steps toward the table, refusing to look at Peter or anyone else.
“Megan.” Laurie reached her hand out and forced her to stop. “Try to calm yourself before you say or do anything, okay?”
Megan searched her best friend’s eyes. All she read was concern. “I know,” she whispered.
It wasn’t hard to miss the sense of feeling overwhelmed on Emma’s face when Megan reached the table. She sat down in the empty seat in front of Emma and lightly touched her daughter’s knee.
“That was quite the ride you took this morning.” Megan bit her lip as she kept her voice low and calm.
Emma’s lips trembled as she met Megan’s gaze.
“I was really worried, honey.” Megan placed a gentle kiss on her daughter’s forehead. She still felt a bit warm, just like earlier, and riding her bike for several blocks wouldn’t have helped. She needed to be home, resting, drinking lots of fluids.
Megan looked up at Peter with accusation glaring in her eyes. This was his fault.
“I wanted to see Papa,” Emma whispered.
Megan smoothed her daughter’s hair and sighed. She glanced up at Jack, and from the look in his eyes, she knew the guilt he carried outweighed her own.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I had no idea she would come by herself.” The sound of that man’s voice sparked a wave of fury she struggled to bury.
Megan’s back was tight; her shoulders back as her breathing slowed. It took everything in her not to lash out at this man she so desperately wanted to hate. But she didn’t. She lowered her voice instead. “No, but you knew she’d come with Peter.” She looked away, unwilling to hold his gaze.
She was conflicted over what to do now. She could insist Emma leave with her and come home, but how much damage would that inflict on Emma, forcing her to leave Jack again? Or she could allow this visit to continue, leave with Laurie, and trust Peter to take care of the situation—or stay, and deal with the repercussions later with Peter.
“Megan.” Laurie stood behind her. “Why don’t we go get some coffee?”
With careful precision, Megan stood, her back rigid, as she stepped away from the chair. She leaned down, kissed Emma’s cheek, and whispered, “I love you,” into her ear before she stepped away. She angled her body enough not to touch Peter as she passed him. She was furious with him, and it took all her control not to lash out.
“I can’t believe he did this behind my back,” Megan hissed to Laurie as they walked toward the counter.
“Really, Meg? It’s not like you gave him much choice.” The look on Laurie’s face had Megan’s cheeks burning with shame. Laurie ordered two coffees and pulled out her wallet.
“That’s not fair.”
Laurie’s brow rose. “What part?”
“Excuse me?” Disbelief laced Megan’s tone.
Laurie took the coffee mugs and headed toward a table. Megan followed once she realized Laurie wasn’t going to answer. She couldn’t believe Laurie would side with Peter on this.
“What is your problem, Laurie? How can you say something like that?”
Laurie gazed across the room. “I can say that because Emma is the one who is hurting here, more than you and Peter combined.”
Megan watched how her daughter’s gaze flitted between Jack and Peter as if she was unsure of who she’d wronged more. That was when it hit her: Laurie was right.
Emma was caught in the middle.
Megan wanted to cry. It was her fault her daughter was in this predicament. Her fault that Emma thought she had to keep her visits with Jack a secret, that she couldn’t trust her parents enough to be sure they would continue. It was why her little girl thought she’d had to come alone.
“It’s not fair, Laurie. After everything she’d been through…” Megan pressed her lips tight.
Laurie reached out, and Megan held tight to her hand.
“No, it’s not. But it’s time to stop forcing Emma to forget the last two years of her life just because you can’t forgive.”
Laurie was right. And so was Peter. Was she the only one blind to what Emma was going through? Was she the only one not listening to what Emma had been saying all along?
“I don’t know if I can, Laurie. How do I welcome her kidnapper into our lives? I shouldn’t have to.”
Laurie shook her head. “But you’re not. That’s her Papa she’s sitting with, Meg. There’s a difference.”
Megan toyed with her coffee cup until she noticed Emma standing beside her.
“Hi.” Megan twisted in her chair and helped Emma climb onto her lap. “Do you want to talk?” She kept her voice calm. All she wanted to do was hold Emma close and forget the rest of the world existed.
Emma nodded. Her eyes were wide and solemn, and she wrung her hands together in her lap.
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she whispered.
Megan wrapped her arms around her daughter and held tight.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I was scared, honey. I didn’t know where you were.”
Emma turned and placed both of her hands on Megan’s face. “I was right here with Papa. I was safe.”
Megan sighed. She reached for Emma’s hands and planted kisses on her palms. “But I didn’t know that, honey. It’s not safe to leave the house without telling me, okay?”
Emma gazed over at Peter and then Jack. “You’re not mad?”
Megan bit her lip. She was terrified. Worried she was making the wrong decision. Peter waited for a signal from her, a sign that all was okay. She couldn’t give that. Not yet.
“Not at you, honey. Never at you.”
How could she be angry with her five-year-old? Could she blame Emma for wanting to se
e her Papa? No. But she was furious with Peter for allowing it to happen.
A seed of doubt sprouted in her heart. As much as she wanted, she couldn’t place all that blame on Peter either. Some of it, yes. He should have talked with her first. He should have told her, even if he knew how she’d respond.
She wanted to hate Jack. She wanted to erase him from every aspect of Emma’s life even knowing that doing so made her look like a monster. But what she wanted to do and what she would do were two different things. They had to be.
“Mommy?” Emma’s timid voice reached out and wrapped itself around Megan’s heart. “Mommy, can I go and sit with Papa again?”
Megan’s heart ached as she listened to the sliver of hope enter her daughter’s voice. She opened her mouth and tried to think of an alternative to tempt Emma with. But her mind was blank.
All she could do was nod and watch her daughter walk away. It hurt, more than she wanted to admit. Megan looked away. She counted under her breath, trying to calm herself enough to sit and watch Emma with that…that… Megan sighed. With Jack. Even saying his name hurt.
“Megan,” Laurie whispered to her. “Megan.” Her voice, more insistent, had Megan glancing up. Laurie was staring beyond her shoulder. Megan half-turned in her seat to find Emma standing there, her hands clasped in front.
“What’s up, honey?”
Something like a smile flitted across Emma’s face. “I just wanted to say I love you.” She lunged toward Megan and wrapped her tiny arms around Megan’s neck.
The constricting band that was wrapped tight around Megan’s heart loosened. As long as she had this, nothing else mattered. Nothing. Not her insecurities, not her fears, and not her anger.
As she wound her own arms around Emma and held her close, she caught Peter’s gaze. A soft smile spread across his face as he watched her.
After today, their lives were never going to be the same and Megan wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Megan sat out on the back porch and waited for Peter to join her.
He’d wanted to come home to talk things over earlier in the day, but Megan needed time to process what had just happened. Her emotions were too fresh, and nothing would have been resolved.
But she didn’t stew all day either.
Laurie ended up taking both Hannah and Alexis out on their girls’ date, while Megan and Emma stayed home during the day. Things were quiet, with Emma playing in the backyard with Daisy while Megan cleaned the kitchen. Her cell phone continued to go off, first with phone calls from Peter and then text messages when he realized she wasn’t going to answer. Eventually, he got the idea, and his last text was that he was sorry for not being honest with her and that he loved her.
Of that she had no doubt. He just had a funny way of showing it lately.
Her kitchen was now spotless, her fridge cleaned, her floors scrubbed, and her hands raw from the hot water they’d been immersed in while she worked out her anger. But she felt better now, calmer and more relaxed. Ready to discuss Emma sneaking away to visit Jack.
Just the thought of Emma riding her bike that far had Megan’s hands shaking and her heartbeat racing. Sure, their street was relatively quiet, but she would have had to cross two major streets before reaching the donut shop. Anything could have happened to her. Megan brushed that thought away. She needed to calm herself down.
Before her cleaning spree, she’d asked Emma to help her make fruit salad for lunch and attempted to talk to her about what happened. At first, her daughter was quiet, not willing to offer much in the way of explanation, more concerned with whether Megan was still mad at her. How was she to explain to a five-year-old just how much danger she’d been in without scaring her too much? How did she confess her own fear of Jack being back in their lives when to Emma he was her Papa?
Laurie was right. When Megan had dropped Emma off for dinner and a sleepover with her sisters at Laurie’s house an hour ago, she’d said as much. It was time for Megan to face her fears—and that meant dealing with this trust issue between her and Peter.
The evening was still young and the warm wind whispered against her skin. Megan leaned her head back as far as it could go, her hair hanging down, tickling her back and arms as it swayed in the breeze.
A door slammed and minutes later, soft music flowed from the open window and door to the kitchen. Ahh, soft jazz, her favorite. Megan suppressed a smile as the screen door opened and a chair was pulled back from the table.
She opened her eyes to see Peter beside her holding a bouquet of white roses. She smiled slightly as she took them from his hands and brought them up to her nose. They smelled divine.
“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. He stood and reached for her hands, pulling her up with him. He wrapped his arms around her and held tight.
“I know you are,” she said against his chest. She rested her head against him and listened to the steady beat of his heart. She pulled away and stood by the railing, watching Peter as he realized she hadn’t said she forgave him.
“You ask me to trust you, but then in the next breath you lie to me. I asked you point-blank if Emma had seen Jack, and you li—”
“I never lied.” Peter hung his head.
“You never told me the truth either. Lie by omission. Isn’t that the same thing?” It was a moot point, really. What’s done was done. There was no turning back time, no wishing for things to be different.
Peter lifted his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. She read the conflicting emotions in his gaze, the desire to defend himself, the apology, and the grief. She looked away.
“I’m not sure I can apologize for placing our daughter’s need first. Keeping it a secret from you, yes, I was wrong, and I’m so sorry for that. But I don’t regret taking Emma to see her grandfather.”
“He’s not her grandfather.” Megan wished she could take back those words the instant she said them. “I don’t want him to be her grandfather.” She blinked back the tears she hadn’t wanted to cry all day.
When Peter pulled her back into his embrace, her body stiffened. She didn’t want to give in. She didn’t want to accept this.
“She’s the only family he has left, Meg.” Peter rested his chin against her head and stroked her hair. The tears fell harder as she thought about what he’d just said. What if it were her own father? What if he were all alone?
She lifted her face. “That’s why this means so much to you, isn’t it? Because he’s a father who has been left alone.”
Peter’s gaze clouded over before he looked away.
“You see him as a father, don’t you?”
Her husband shrugged. But she noticed he didn’t deny it. Megan’s soul sighed. How could she fight against that? Losing his father had devastated Peter in a way she could never understand. She loved her dad, but he was more of a distant father, showing his love by providing for his family rather than being there emotionally for them.
“He’s dying, Megan. Emma’s lost so much in such a short time. She’s going to lose him, too, eventually.” His arms dropped, leaving her feeling chilled. “We took him away from her once. I don’t want to do it again.” His face turned to stone as he said those words, his gaze determined. “I need you to trust me.”
Even if Megan had wanted to fight him on this, she knew she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She dropped down to rest on her heels and pulled out a box from beneath her seat.
She’d thought long and hard about doing this. It would have been very easy for her to destroy the box she’d hidden high in her closet, to shred the letters between Jack and Emma and pretend she’d never attempted to keep them apart. Except, if she was going to put Emma’s needs first, then being honest with Peter about this was necessary. No more secrets.
“I was wrong to do that to her,” she said as she handed the box to Peter.
He took the box from her hands and slowly opened the lid, his eyes widening when he realized what was inside.
“I do trust you,” she whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
May 5
Dear Jack,
I love you. I hope when you eventually read this journal, you will remember that above all else.
I’ve never remembered things with such clarity as today. It almost makes me wonder if this is my last good day. Will the rest go downhill from here? Will I forget who you are, Jack? Will I forget about Mary and our sweet precious Emmie?
I hope not.
But if I do, I want you to remember this: above all else, you are my heart.
I haven’t been the perfect wife, but I’ve been the best one I can be. I made mistakes raising Mary, but looking back, I made the best decisions I could at the time.
How Emmie came to be with us—I don’t think I can ever be forgiven for that. I don’t believe it’s a memory of something else that is confusing me or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. It has to be the truth. I don’t remember much about that day, but I do know that our Mary is dead, and I don’t think she had a daughter. I don’t know how I found our precious Emmie, but Jack…I need you to do the right thing. I can’t. I don’t trust myself anymore.
I will say this, to hear the laughter in your voice and to see the love in your eyes, I will cherish that forever. Our Emmie has been a miracle in our lives; she’s given our old bones a reason to live.
I love you, Jack. I always will. Hold that close when things go dark.
Jack sat up in his room, his heart heavy as he held Dottie’s journal in his hands.
Of everything he’d done since Dottie’s death, reading this journal was the toughest yet. Going through her clothes, making room for the boys to come and stay with him, even packing up her knickknacks hadn’t hurt as much as this one small book.
He tried to wrap his head around what he’d just read. How had he not seen just how far Dottie’s illness had taken her? So much heartache might have been averted if he’d only opened his eyes and seen what was happening to his girl.
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