I Love You, I Hate You Part 2 A second Chance Romance (Broken Love Book 3)

by Bailey B

  “Danika,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take. You either need to teach that child how to behave again or we’re going to have to discuss different living arrangements.”

  I cross my legs, sitting upright because laying on the ground to Molly’s level didn’t make a difference. “Are you kidding me?”

  Tessa drops her hands to her sides. “This was supposed to be temporary, while you found a place of your own. It’s been over a month. You’re a grown woman. We can’t support you forever.”

  “Molly and I have only been home two days!” She has to be joking! Although, I’m not surprised. She ignored Logan’s fits, chalking them up as tantrums and focused all of her attention on her normal children. I should have known she’d never love my daughter. Molly’s always been different, her differences are a little more noticeable now.

  “Exactly. You should have been figuring out your living arrangements while hanging out in the hospital.”

  “Hanging out?” This woman has to be bi-polar because there is no way my father married this monster. “No one hangs out at a hospital. We were there because you almost killed my daughter!”

  “For crying out loud, Danika.” Tessa rolls her heavily lined eyes. “When are you going to let that go? It was an accident.”

  “Never,” Logan booms. I didn’t hear him come in over the sound of Molly’s screaming. Hell, Tessa and I have to yell just to hear each other. “And neither will I.”

  He swoops Molly into his arms, magically silencing her with the comfort only he can provide. I should be jealous that he has that power but I don’t have the energy to waste on pointless emotions. I’m just grateful for the quiet.

  Molly presses her palms to her head and looks at Logan with tears in her eyes. Headache. I climb to my feet and head towards the kitchen, brushing my shoulder against Tessa’s on my way. Back in the living room, I give Logan two chewable Tylenol tablets which Molly happily takes from him. She chews them up, takes a sip from her water cup, then rests her head back on his shoulder.

  “Go upstairs and pack a bag, Danika. You and Molly are done here.”

  I don’t care to argue at this point. I’m basically living for when Logan gets off work because that is when Molly stops crying. He could take us to the moon and we’d go.

  “You can’t take her to a hotel, Logan,” his mother chides. “They’ll kick her out within hours.”

  I pause at the top of the steps, a bag with my stuff in one hand and Molly’s in the other. Most of our things are in a tiny storage unit, so packing what we have here is easy enough.

  “I’m not taking her to a fucking hotel, Mother. I’m taking my family home, like I would have done the day Molly was discharged if you hadn’t insisted on bringing her back here.”

  40

  Logan

  Danika and Molly follow me to the house. I'm not surprised Danika doesn’t remember where I live. She was drunk, it was dark, and she’s got a screaming kid in the back seat. That seems to be all Molly does when I’m not around. Cry.

  I don’t know what changed from the hospital to now. Molly was fine when we were discharged, not smiley like she used to be, but nothing like this. Maybe she can sense the hostility between Mom and Danika. Kids are like sharks, perceptive to things most adults don’t notice. Hell, I’m uncomfortable around those two half the time.

  I pull into my driveway, leaving space for Danika to park beside me. As expected, Molly is crying in the backseat and Danika looks thoroughly exhausted. As soon as she unlocks the door, I’m at Molly’s side. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  Molly’s hair sticks to her face in a sweaty mess. I push her brown locks out of her eyes and frown. “Does she feel hot?”

  Danika sighs, not from frustration but because lately it seems like it’s one thing after another with Molly. I’ve helped as much as I could these past two days, but it hasn’t been enough. Getting to Mom’s house at seven-thirty gave Danika enough of a break to take a shower, enjoy a few minutes of peace, and that’s it. I can’t imagine how hard these past two days have been, doing everything alone because let’s face it, Mom probably wasn’t any help.

  Danika puts the back of her hand to Molly’s cheek then forehead. “A little, but it could be because she cried the whole way here. Let’s get her inside, get her something to drink, then we’ll check her again.”

  I unclasp the five-point harness. Molly opens her eyes enough to see my face through blurry tears. Tears that are still running down her cheeks but at least they’re quiet. Molly latches her arms around my neck as I lift her out of the carseat. The back of her shirt is soaked with sweat, so is her head. “This is more than crying, Danika. Let’s get her in the bath. She needs to cool off.”

  Danika closes the back hatch. “When she got like this back in Georgia, I’d have to hold her in the shower while letting the cool water run down her back. She wouldn’t stay in the tub.”

  “This happens often?” I push the code on the keyless lock at my front door. It opens and Danika sets both bags beside the couch.

  “No, not since she was two or three.” She unzips one bag and begins rummaging through it. “Let me find some shorts and then I’ll start the shower.”

  “I’ll do it.” I turn on my heels and head towards my room. The shower in my bathroom is twice the size of the tiny tub combo in the guest bath. I’ll have space to rock Molly and maybe soothe her a bit.

  “Do what?” she asks a step behind.

  “Hold her under the water’s spray. That’ll give you a few minutes to get settled.”

  Danika stops rummaging through her bag and stands upright. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

  I turn the water to a comfortable cold. If I need to adjust it when we’re in there, then so be it. It’s easier to start warmer and make my way to cold gradually than shock the skin. “Can you take her for a minute?

  Molly grabs onto my shirt collar as Danika tries to pull her off. The moment Molly’s hands leave me she’s screaming again. I bend down and unlace my boots as fast as I can, take all of my gear off, then toss my clothes to the side. I’m only in my boxers but at this point I don’t think it matters.

  Molly practically jumps back into my arms. I hold her tight, stepping under the faucet and gasp the same time she does. I like my showers sauna hot. This is torture.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” Danika pauses in the doorway and looks over her shoulder. “Does it matter which room we take?”

  “No. Rearrange if you need to. Whatever it takes to make you two comfortable.”

  “I grabbed two towels from the hall closet,” Danika says, walking back into the bathroom a little while later.

  I turn the water off and step onto the bath mat. She drapes a towel over Molly’s back and tucks the ends under my arms.

  “She fell asleep about five minutes ago,” I say, following Danika out of the bathroom. To my surprise, the twin mattress from the guest room is on the floor beside my bed. I lay Molly down, both shocked and grateful when she stays asleep.

  “You’re good at this,” Danika whispers, tossing me a dry towel.

  I smirk and step into my closet. Stripping out of my wet boxers, I free-ball it in a dry pair of shorts and motion for Danika to follow me out of the room. “Told you all I needed was a chance.”

  The corner of her lips lift into a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Logan. For everything.”

  I pull Danika into my arms and she breaks down, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. The past few days have been hard, but it’s nothing we won’t get through. We’re family, and family sticks together. “Ryan got my FMLA approved today. I’ve got three weeks off and two more on standby if we need it.”

  “Logan.” She looks up at me, her big Bambi eyes red and puffy. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  I cradle Danika’s cheeks in my hands. I want to kiss her, but now’s not the time. “You didn’t. I need to be here, with you and Molly, more than I need to be in my cruiser. Whatever h
appens with Molly, we’ll get through it. Together.”

  41

  Danika

  “Logan, her fever isn’t coming down.” I stare at the thermometer for the fourth time in ten minutes. Molly’s fever has climbed from 101.3 to 102.1. Thankfully she’s still sleeping, but even that’s worrisome. Nothing about her has been right since leaving the hospital.

  “Load her up,” Logan says without hesitation. He strides into his closet and emerges a few seconds later in a pair of flip-flops and wearing a fresh shirt. “Let’s get her to the emergency room. I’m not taking any chances.”

  I nod and begin looking around for my purse. Logan bends down and lifts Molly into his arms. She whimpers into his shoulder. He walks out the door before me. I press the lock button on his door. By the time I’m at my car, Logan’s in the backseat beside Molly.

  “Drive.”

  The hospital is twenty minutes from Logan’s house, across the railroad tracks and closer to the bad part of town. I make it there in twelve. Dad’s waiting in the ambulance bay with two nurses when I pull up. Either it’s a slow night or he’s prioritizing us because we’re family. Either way, I’m grateful.

  Logan gets out and follows the nurses so I can pull around the building and park. I barely make it through the sliding double doors before the triage nurse flags me down. I remember her from the other night, when Molly was brought in for her allergic reaction.

  “When did the fever spike?” Dad asks Logan. The nurse pulls the curtain of our makeshift cubicle closed behind me and stands in front of her rolling computer.

  “About an hour ago, when I moved them to my house.” Logan looks at me for confirmation. “Right?”

  “Yeah.” My voice cracks. I'm exhausted but there’s no time to rest because being a parent means putting your child’s needs before your own. Sleep can wait.

  “Molly, baby,” Dad says, shining his light into her eyes. “Papa’s here and I have a lollipop. Can you stop crying, sweetie?”

  Dad’s sucker trick doesn’t work. Molly cries louder, probably pissed at him for forcing her eyelids open and using that bright light. He presses his stethoscope to her back and listens. How he can hear anything past her wailing is beyond me.

  “I want to draw some blood and test her for the flu. There’s a chance she caught a bug down at the other hospital.”

  “Temperature is 103.7,” the nurse says.

  Dad presses his lips into a tight line, exhaling through his nose. He pats my back. “Hang in there, kiddo. We’ll figure out what’s going on with her.”

  Hours.

  It’s been hours and we still don’t have answers. Logan’s laying in Molly’s bed while she sleeps on his chest. It reminds me of my Neonatal Unit days. The nurses used to tell me to hold Molly like that, skin to skin, so she could feel my heartbeat. They called it Kangaroo. Logan would have loved it.

  “Strep throat,” Dad says, pulling back the curtain. “I don’t know how she got it, but we can treat it.”

  “Thank fuck,” Logan mumbles. I’m thinking the same thing but I have a feeling he’s thankful just to have an answer. I’m thankful because maybe this means Molly will start to act like herself again.

  “Some rest and antibiotics and she should be good to go.” Dad glances over her file then adds, “I’m going to give her azithromycin since she’s allergic to penicillin.”

  Finally, a grandparent who pays attention. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He prints the prescription then signs the paper but holds onto it. “One condition.”

  “You’re a doctor. You can’t have conditions,” I tease. I know no matter what he wants, even if I don’t do it, he’ll give me the medicine. For one because it’s Molly but also because it’s his job.

  “Call Nona. She’s worried sick.”

  “Okay.”

  I wake the next morning to a quiet room. Logan’s bed is like sleeping on a cloud. It hugs your body but doesn’t swallow you, providing the perfect amount of firmness and plush. I roll onto my side, expecting to see Molly asleep on the mattress beside me but she’s nowhere in sight. Neither is Logan. I’m not worried. That man would die before letting anything happen to us.

  Reaching for my phone under my pillow, I press the side button. He let me sleep until eight-thirty. I haven't stayed in bed this late since high school. Stretching my arms over my head, I slide my legs off the side of the bed and walk into the living room.

  “Morning, beautiful.” Logan has Molly on a barstool at the kitchen island, feeding her oatmeal. “How’d you sleep.”

  I rub the back of my neck and take the stool beside Molly. She looks up at me and grins. It’s the first smile I’ve seen in days and it nearly brings me to tears. “Someone looks like they’re feeling better.”

  “Her fever’s gone.” Logan takes a sip of his green smoothie then tips it towards me. “Want one?”

  I shake my head. I’m hungry but not for that. Even in my hardcore vegan days, I never could stomach a green smoothie. Something about mixing sweet fruits with bitter vegetables never sat well with me. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

  “Go for it. We’ll be out here.” He airplanes a spoonful of oatmeal in the air, earning another smile from Molly who happily opens wide. “But I need to tell you something.”

  I knew there was a reason Logan let me sleep in. He was trying to get on my good side. “What is it?”

  “I got your Nona’s number from your dad last night.”

  That’s right, I’m supposed to call her. She still lives in the stone age and doesn’t have a smartphone. She has the basic flip-type, which means no texting and no video-calls. I was doing good about talking to her every couple of days when Molly and I first moved back, but ever since Thanksgiving I haven’t felt much like talking on the phone. “Okay.”

  “Well, with Christmas in a couple of weeks, I’ve invited her to spend the holiday with us.” His brown eyes look up at me. There’s a little hopefulness but a lot of worry swirling in them. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “That’s sweet Logan, but she can't afford the ticket, let alone a hotel.” Social security pays pennies and she doesn’t have much coming in from retirement. Things were barely manageable when I was bringing in my measly paycheck. I can’t imagine how tight money has been the past few months.

  “I figured as much which is why I told her she’d be staying with us and the tickets were her Christmas present. Figured I had some making up to do since I missed the last few holidays.”

  “Oh, Logan.” I slide off of my stool and walk around Molly’s chair. I wrap my arms around his neck as his hands find my waist. I hold him tight, breathing in the fresh scent of his deodorant and laundry detergent. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  He rests his knuckle under my chin, tilting my head up, looking me in the eyes. “Stay with me, Danika. Put all of the dirty water under a bridge and give us a chance again. We make a great team and I don’t want to spend another day waking up without my girls. Both of them.”

  I chew on my bottom lip. We could fill a river with the amount of muck in the water between us. For every good moment we have there’s a bad one lingering nearby, but Logan is right. We do make a great team and Molly adores him.

  “If we’re going to do this, there’s no going back. No third, fourth, or fifth chances. It’s all or nothing. We can’t have a yo-yo of a relationship. It’s not healthy for Molly.”

  Or me.

  “I’m all in, Danika. Always have been.”

  42

  Danika

  Logan goes back to work tomorrow. It’s crazy how fast the weeks have flown by. Between Molly’s therapies—speech three days a week and occupational two—and studying for my final exams I’ve barely had room to breathe. Logan has been a godsend, helping with Molly more often than not, and we’ve fallen into a comfortable routine. But all of that is about to change.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with me going back to work tomorrow night? Ryan can push it back ano
ther week if we need him to.”

  I hand Logan a basket of folded towels, ready to be put in the hall closet. Molly doesn’t scream anymore, at least not like she did those first few days after the hospital. She still doesn’t like the squeal of my brakes but that’s nothing new. Right now, she’s sitting beside the pile of laundry we’re working on, watching cartoons and brushing her doll’s hair. “Sounds to me like you’re the one who’s uncomfortable.”

  He disappears with the full basket and comes back with it empty a few minutes later. “What if something happens? Or if someone tries to break in? I won’t be here to keep you safe.”

  “We will be fine. It’s just night shift.”

  Two weeks of Logan leaving after dinner. We’ve gotten Molly used to eating earlier so we can sit at the table as a family. All that’s left to do is a bath, story time, and then bed. Molly’s still sleeping on the mattress beside us at night but that’s going to change when Santa brings her big Cinderella carriage bed. “Besides, Nona flies in tomorrow. We won’t be alone and you’re only a phone call away.”

  Logan drops the basket on the cushion beside me. “I know. I guess I’m worried things between us will change if I’m not here.”

  I slip my finger in the belt loop of Logan’s shorts and pull him until he wraps his arms around my waist. Outside of Molly making progress in leaps and bounds because of her bond with Logan, this is my favorite part about living here. Curling up in his arms whenever I want and tasting those lips… amongst other things. “Stop. We’re the best we’ve ever been. No job is going to change that. I love you, Logan.”

  My heart beats against my ribs hard enough to send a shiver of adrenaline through me. I’ve held onto those words for a while now. That’s why seeing him with Sarah, which I now realize was a huge misunderstanding, hurt so bad. I never stopped loving him.