And then there was Elizabeth. It was useless to try to keep from watching her. I sensed her every move, so I finally gave up and gave in. My eyes trailed her as she mingled with her guests, her smile wide and gracious as she welcomed each one, thankful for their presence.
I knew she could feel me, conscious of watchful eyes. Being near her stirred me—my love and guilt and desire—emotions that left my heart heavy and my legs weak.
It hurt.
I had to remind myself that anything I felt now could only pale in comparison to what I had put Elizabeth through. Self-pity would only serve to discount my own actions.
Knowing that wasn’t enough to stop the surge of jealousy I felt toward him—Scott. He was the same man who had told me to leave the bank that day I’d shown up at Elizabeth’s work, the one who I heard her call out to as he stepped through her door, the one who continually reached for her. They were light touches, small caresses from hands that clearly wanted more. I found myself thanking God when she returned none of them, but put space between them in an almost indiscernible way, in a way likely only noticed by Scott and me.
It filled me with relief, which I realized only made me all the more pathetic, taking comfort in the hope that Elizabeth was alone.
I wondered if I could ever stop being a selfish asshole.
“Burgers are ready!” Greg made the announcement, and the small group of people broke apart, falling into line with their smiles wide as they filled their plates.
The thought of a burger straight off a backyard grill made my mouth water, but I had no intention of eating. It would be far too uncomfortable to expect food when I wasn’t even welcome, though I shouldn’t have been surprised when Lizzie stood before me, her small hands clutching a plate extended in offering.
“Are you hungry, Daddy?” Kind blue eyes looked up at me, perceptive and aware.
I gulped down the awe and nodded. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She graced me in that same consuming smile when I accepted her gift, tiny teeth exposed, dimples drawn, leaving my heart in my throat as I watched her dance away and take her place at the small children’s table.
I ate my meal in my sheltered corner, though not alone as I felt Lizzie’s spirit linger at my side. It was almost too much to be showered in her undeserved love.
Once the food had been eaten and plates set aside, Elizabeth, Natalie, and Carrie brought Lizzie’s gifts over and placed them around her on the grass. Lizzie bounced with excitement. In admiration, I watched as my five year old daughter took time to have her mother read each card to her. She opened her gifts carefully and thanked whoever she’d received it from. Her surprise was genuine as she unwrapped each one, never expecting anything, but gracious to have received it.
Elizabeth had raised the most incredible child, so humble, so appreciative.
Lizzie’s eyes went wide when she opened the largest box I’d given her. A doll. She’d asked for a doll, which had turned out to be a more difficult request than I’d ever imagined. There were hundreds of them at the store, and I’d been thankful when the young employee had helped me select one. The doll was lifelike, handmade, and had long black hair and blue eyes. As soon as the woman had shown it to me, I’d known it was perfect, even though I’d had to pry my jaw off the floor when I’d found out how much it cost. The look on Lizzie’s face told me it was well worth it. She unwrapped the other gifts from me, each a different accessory for the doll, each a piece the saleswoman insisted she would love.
When the other boxes had been opened, Lizzie rose and raced across the lawn and into my lap, throwing her small arms around my neck. “Thank you, Daddy! I love her!”
I held her to me, murmuring against her head, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”
She sat back, her smile so wide it stretched over her entire face.
My heart felt as if it would burst against my chest.
I would do anything to see that smile.
I reached out and pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes, my smile soft. “I love you, precious girl.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
She hugged me again, hard, and then scooted off my lap and ran to finish opening the rest of her gifts.
I lifted my head and caught everyone staring at me. All of them were quick to avert their attention back to Lizzie who started to open the last of her presents—all except for Elizabeth’s mother. Her expression was unreadable but intense and probing. I shifted in discomfort. If there was one person here besides Elizabeth and Lizzie who I’d let down, it was Linda. I would never forget the last time I’d seen her, when she’d pulled me aside and made me promise her that I’d never break her daughter’s heart. In a heartbeat, I’d sworn that I never would.
When Lizzie had thanked everyone a final time for her gifts, Elizabeth announced it was time for cake. Everyone gathered around the table, including myself. Unable to resist, I pulled out my phone and recorded Lizzie as she grinned ear to ear, her eyes darting around to the people who loved her as they sang “Happy Birthday.” She sucked in a deep breath before blowing out all five candles in one fell swoop while everyone clapped and called out, “Make a wish.”
Elizabeth’s face was indescribable as she celebrated with her daughter, full of life and so much love. I saw joy and no evidence of the pain I had caused her. I stared a beat too long, and Elizabeth caught my eye. Her happiness drained, despondency taking its place. Shame urged me to look away, but I held fast.
For a moment we were caught in each other, verging on something familiar, longing obscured by years of separation.
She blinked rapidly, breaking our connection, her hand shaking as she took a knife to slice into Lizzie’s cake.
I coerced myself back to my corner while thick, pink pieces of cake were passed out on even pinker plates.
Natalie stopped in front of me, arm extended. “Cake?”
I raised a brow, caught off guard before shrugging and accepting the small plate. “Thanks.” I offered a very cautious smile.
Her smile was wide as she plopped into the chair her husband had occupied earlier.
My smile faded as I prepared for attack.
“So, how are you holding up?”
I frowned. Was she really asking me how I was doing?
“Um?” was about all I could manage, confused.
She chuckled, the sound warm in her throat. “That bad, huh?”
I shook my head and laughed under my breath at the unexpected exchange. “Nah. I’m just thankful to be here.”
She took a bite of cake and murmured, “Hmm.”
I turned and tried to read her, to search for her intent. Her face was soft, free of displeasure as warm, brown eyes smiled back at me.
In an instant, I was taken back six years to the tender sweetness of Elizabeth.
Kindness.
Natalie radiated it.
For a moment, I looked away and gathered my courage before turning back to her. “Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened at the store a couple of weeks ago.” I winced at the memory, the blatant terror in her eyes when I’d faced her in the parking lot. I swallowed, needing to explain myself. “I just saw her . . . and . . . I knew.” I shook my head with regret. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She grimaced but shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, you scared the hell out of me. I love that little girl so much. I’d do anything to protect her.” She glanced at Lizzie and then back to me, her expression serious. “But now that I know who you are, I . . .” She pressed her lips together as if she were debating what to say. “I get it.”
Did she really understand?
She must have seen the desperation in my face, because sympathy fell across her own. “I believe you.”
“You believe . . . what?” I asked.
“That you love her . . . love them.” She motioned to where Lizzie and Elizabeth sat on the grass, sharing a piece of cake. She looked back at me, searching my face. “You do, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I do.”
She gave me a curt nod. “Good. Then don’t mess this up.”
I ran my hand through my hair, trying to make sense of this conversation. Two hours ago, her husband had all but threatened to kill me and she seemed to be encouraging me. She grinned at my confusion, scooped her last piece of cake into her mouth, and hopped up. “See you around?” she prodded, her brow raised.
I nodded and repeated what I’d told her husband earlier. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Satisfaction spread across her face, and she extended her hand. Tentative, I reached out and shook it. “Well then, it’s nice to finally meet you, Christian Davison.”
She breezed across the lawn, leaving me shaking my head, baffled to find such an unlikely ally, but thankful nonetheless.
The party wound down and friends filtered out, saying their goodbyes and thank yous.
I lingered.
I didn’t want to say goodbye.
When the last of Lizzie’s guests had left and only Matthew and Natalie remained, I reluctantly stood and made my way across the lawn. Lizzie sat in the grass playing with the doll I had given her.
I crouched down to run my hand through her soft hair. “I have to go now, sweetheart.”
Lizzie saddened. “Already?” Apparently, she didn’t want me to say goodbye either.
Smiling, I settled down in the grass next to her, pulling her onto my lap and into my arms. I hugged her to me. “Yes, my angel, I have to go.”
She hugged me tighter, and from her mouth came a whispered plea. “Will you come back?”
I choked on her fear.
I pulled back, looking her in the eye. “Yes, Lizzie, I’ll be back. I promise.” Glancing up, I caught Elizabeth watching us from inside the kitchen window, her wounds prominent in the lines across her forehead. “I promise,” I said again as I buried my face against the side of Lizzie’s head.
I had to force myself to stand, to turn my back, and to leave my little girl sitting in the middle of her yard. My feet were heavy as they entered the kitchen of the small house. My steps faltered when I came upon Elizabeth.
She stood with her back to me. Her hands were flat against the kitchen counter and her breathing was audible as she stared out at Lizzie through the window.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” I whispered.
She whimpered, her voice a quiet rasp. “Please, don’t hurt her.”
All the air left me.
“I won’t.” Never.
Her body trembled as a quiet sob escaped. “What do you want, Christian?”
What did I want?
To make her smile, to wipe away her tears, to hold her.
To be a father, a real father, not one in title, but one who’d earned that right.
I wanted to stay.
“I want my family,” I forced through the lump in my throat.
Elizabeth went rigid, her hands digging into the counter for support, her words sharp. “Get out of my house.”
I swallowed down my pain, the fear that I might never receive forgiveness, and nodded. “Okay,” I said quietly as I turned to leave. I hesitated in the archway, looking back over my shoulder. “But I’m coming back.”
Chapter Eight
Friday had always been a day I looked forward to, filled with anticipation for the weekend ahead and excitement for time spent with my daughter. Now it was a day of dread.
I glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. Only fifteen more minutes.
Plunging my hands into the soapy water, I tried to focus on the task in front of me instead of how much I hated this, but a mindless job like washing dishes wasn’t enough to cover up the ache in my heart.
Sharing my daughter was torture.
The day after Lizzie’s birthday, Christian had called at seven fifteen just as he had every night the week before and every day since. He’d asked to speak to me after telling Lizzie goodbye. He wanted to know when he could see her next, and more specifically, he wanted a day of his own.
The man had the audacity to ask me for Saturdays. Saturdays were mine, a day without interruption for my daughter and me, just the two of us. There was no way I’d concede to that.
Instead, I’d given him Friday evenings.
So for the last two months, Christian had shown up at my doorstep every Friday at six to pick Lizzie up and had dropped her off at the same place at eight.
He had two hours. To me, even that was too much. He deserved no time at all.
The worst part of it was how much Lizzie always looked forward to those nights with Christian, how excited she would become as she watched the clock near six. She never questioned whether he would show or not; she expected him to, trusted him to.
And I was left waiting on the sidelines to pick up the pieces when he didn’t.
It sucked.
I loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters, preparing myself to face Christian. Just those few minutes at my stoop exchanging “our” daughter were excruciating.
Two minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Taking a deep breath, I dried my hands and tossed the hand towel aside, wending my way to the front door. Glancing through the peephole, I unlocked the door and swung it wide to Lizzie and Christian standing on the stoop.
“Hi, Mommy.” Lizzie grinned up at me, her hair in pigtails and her eyes alive. She clutched her doll to her side, that outrageous toy that must have cost a fortune, the one she never went anywhere without.
“Hi, sweetheart.” I smiled down at her, refusing to begrudge the joy my daughter found in her father. “Did you have a good time?”
She glanced back at Christian and smiled wide before looking back at me and nodding. “Yep. Daddy took me to the park and we had a picnic.”
I covered my grimace and forced out, “That sounds like fun, honey.” My eyes flitted to Christian. His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his slacks, his tie discarded, the first two buttons of his white dress shirt undone. His hair that had been styled when he’d shown up at my house earlier was now in disarray, locks of hair obscuring the vibrant blue of one of his eyes.
He was gorgeous. And I hated him for it.
I turned my attention back to Lizzie, gesturing to her father with my head. “It’s time to tell your dad goodnight, Lizzie.”
Her face fell along with my heart. It was agonizing, watching her tell Christian goodbye, how she clung to him, their whispered words of love and promises of how they would miss each other until they saw each other again.
Christian kissed her on the head once more before releasing his hold on her and nudging her toward the door. “Goodnight, my princess.”
“Night, Daddy.”
I closed my eyes, wishing I didn’t have to witness this. “Lizzie, go on upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute to get your bath started.”
“Okay, Momma.” Lizzie mounted the stairs as Christian and I watched her go, and then I slowly turned back to him. This part always felt so awkward, especially in light of the declaration he’d made on Lizzie’s birthday. I’d known what he meant, his intention.
He wanted me back.
I had spent a fleeting moment fantasizing about being in his arms again before my rational side had screamed at me for being a fool, and I had demanded that he leave my house. He’d never stepped inside since.
“Goodnight, Christian.” In his case, I’d given myself over to feigned pleasantries.
He stared at his feet before looking back at me as he ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his I hadn’t forgotten. “Listen, Elizabeth . . .”
I braced myself. This was it. My mind raced with what I would tell my daughter, how I would comfort her.
He scratched the back of his head, shuffling his feet, before he grimaced and said in a rushed voice, “I need a favor.”
I scowled, sitting back on my heels and crossing my arms. He wasn’t leaving. He was asking for more. Damn him.
“What?”
He released a heavy breath from his nose, his expression hopeful. “My mother is coming into town next weekend, and I was hoping we could take Lizzie to Sea World on Saturday?”
I shook my head. “You know Saturday is my day with Lizzie, Christian. Why can’t you take her during the week?” As if I would make concessions for his mother, that shallow, pretentious woman who’d done no more than look down her nose at me. And God knew Christian could afford to take the day off.
“Because my mom isn’t getting in until late Friday night, and she has to leave Sunday to get back to work. It’s the only day we can go,” he explained as if it made complete sense where it made none.
That woman had never worked a day in her life. I didn’t realize I was frowning in confusion until Christian spoke.
“Yes, Elizabeth, my mother works,” he said, sounding mildly irritated. “She and my father divorced five years ago.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. The question had escaped me before I could reel it in. I don’t care about him or what his family does, I reminded myself. But really, I was a little curious. Claire Davison working? The woman who put on airs, who walked around as if her social life were the most important thing in the world? The thought was comical.
Christian chuckled, his eyes glinting amusement. “Shocking, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Why I answered, I didn’t know.
His voice softened. “She’s not who you think she is, Elizabeth.”
I shook my head, wishing to divert the line of conversation that drew me into his personal life, getting back to what mattered—the precious time I had to spend with my daughter. “Saturdays are mine, Christian.” The words were soft, but firm.
He sighed and for a moment looked away before his eyes darted back at me, determined. “Come with us.”
What? I couldn’t imagine anything as tortuous as spending an entire day with him and his mother.
He took a step forward, dipping his head to capture my gaze. “Please, Elizabeth.” My heart sped with his nearness, the warmth of his presence washing over my face and through my chest to where it settled somewhere in the pit of my stomach.
Dangerous.
“Um . . . I . . .” I fumbled over the words, searching for an excuse.
The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes Page 24