Page 23 of When We Are Complete

God, she’s so damn beautiful. Even more beautiful than when we were dating. More beautiful than any woman I’ve ever been with. She’s this storm of quirky and sweet and stubborn, and once upon a time she was actually mine.

I push myself up, letting my feet hit the cool hardwood floor, and rest my elbows on my knees. For a brief, indulgent moment, I let myself imagine a life where I could go after what I wanted without being tied down by responsibilities. A life where I could call her and ask her out on a date without thinking twice.

What I wouldn’t give for one night… one night of no responsibilities, one night with Kelly, back before everything turned to shit. But I don’t live in a fantasy world and I never will.

Still, there’s no denying it. Seeing her again lit something in me I thought I’d buried. I can’t dive in like I would’ve all those years ago, showing up with that cocky grin, hoping we’d get back together. Not after everything.

If I’m going to win her back, it’s going to take time—a hell of a lot of time and patience. I’ve got to go slow, give her reasons to trust me again, show her that I’ve changed.

“Get your head on straight, Tanner.” I scratch at the stubble shadowing my jaw. This day isn’t going to wait for me to sort through the mess of my thoughts. But deep down, one thing is crystal clear: I’ll do whatever it takes to make her believe in me again.

I stand, muscles protesting the early hour, and tug on the same jeans I left crumpled on the floor last night. There’s work to be done, a child to rouse and cajole to school. Splashing water on my face, I shave quickly before showering and getting dressed.

“Up and at ‘em, Adele,” I call out, opening her bedroom door and crossing to the window, where I open the curtains. The morning light illuminates the chaos of teenage life—posters ofbands I can’t name, clothes strewn all over the floor, and Tiger curled up at the foot of her bed.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbles, pulling the covers over her head.

“School waits for no man—or teenage girl,” I say, though my voice lacks any real conviction. I’d sell my soul for five more minutes myself.

She emerges, brown hair a mess, eyes sleepy but glaring, looking so much like her younger self it’s a fist around my heart. “Fine.”

I give her space as she takes a long shower and then even longer applying cream and the small amount of make-up we allow her. I hear the hair dryer and then the sound of her walking to her room. The cupboard door opens and then slams closed, before she finally comes downstairs, taking a seat opposite me at the table where I’m already drinking coffee and eating toast.

“Breakfast?” I offer, knowing the answer before she even shrugs it off.

“I’ll grab something at school later,” she says.

“Well, I packed your lunch. It’s on the bench. A PB&J and those yogurt pouches you like, plus some crisps and fruit.”

“I hate PB&J. Peanut butter is so fattening.” She glances down at her phone, her lashes a little spiky under the mascara, and it’s all I can do not to push, not to smother. Instead, I take a deep breath, which Jenny and I agreed we’d do when she refused to take her packed lunch. We’re picking our battles right now, and I slide her a ten-dollar note so she can pick something up from the school cafeteria.

I sip my coffee, her eyes still glued to her phone, the screen casting a bluish glow over her face. “So, I was thinking about your birthday party.”

She glances up, her expression wary, bracing for another lecture. I smile, hoping to reassure her.

“I wanted to check in with you on the plans. You know, make sure I’m not doing anything too embarrassing.”

Adele’s face softens, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “No, it all sounds good so far. You’ll keep out of our way? I’m only inviting the girls.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “No hovering. I swear. I’ll keep myself and everyone over fourteen out of the way. You guys can take over the living room.”

Her eyes are brighter now. “Good. Chloe’s bringing stuff for manicures and makeovers, and Poppy and I are making playlists. Maybe we can get one of those lights for selfies?”

“Sounds as though you’ve got it all figured out.” I’m relieved to see her actually excited about something. “I’ll get that light for you, the one you keep sending me links to.”

Her smile widens, a real one this time. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I want it to be everything you want.”

Adele lets her guard down for just a moment. “Thanks, Dad. I mean, it’s just one day, but I don’t know, it’s nice to look forward to something that’s not all messed up.”

“I get that. So, just tell me what else you need, and I’ll make it happen. And don’t worry—I’ll stay out of the way, but if you need anything, I’ll be there.”

She fiddles with the edge of her sleeve, a rare softness in her voice. “It’s gonna be great. I can’t wait.”

For a second, she’s my little girl again, the same one who used to light up at the thought of birthday parties and sleepovers. It’s a brief moment, but I’ll take it.

Soon we’re in my truck driving to school, and I stop out front, the engine still idling. “Have a good day, kiddo.”

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