Page 115 of Protecting You

Deflect. Change the subject. Anything to keep from having to face his own inadequacies.

“You claim you love her,” Alyssa said, “but you don’t.”

“Watch it, Paris.” His voice was low, humming with warning. “You have no idea how I feel.”

“Love isn’t something youfeel,Callan. It’s something youdo. And you know what it looks like to children? It looks like care. It looks like breakfast every morning and story time every night and all the little things that happen in between. It looks like coloring books and bath time and Christmas trees and presents and cheerleading lessons, even if those lessons are all the way in Augusta. Love is listening to their stories and praying with them and putting princess bandages on their booboos. To children, love istime.”

He wanted to close his eyes and cover his ears like a little boy. He didn’t want to hear this, no matter how true it was.

“So don’t tell me you love her.” Alyssa’s tone was gentle now. “Your feelings are irrelevant. Your actions matter.”

Just like Mom and Dad and Hannah, Alyssa was right.

Callan wanted to love Peri. He planned to love her. He intended to love her. But how often did he actually show her he loved her? And if he didn’t show her, then it didn’t matter at all.

“You need to prove to Peri that she’s worth any sacrifices you have to make or she’s going to grow up believing all the lies Megan told her.”

He knew the vitriol her mother had dripped into his innocent daughter’s heart. That he didn’t love her. That he didn’t have time for her. That he couldn’t even bother to send a check.

“I hate to say it, Callan.” Alyssa stepped across the kitchen and gripped his arm. “Every day you don’t prove Megan wrong, you’re proving her right.”

Despite the kindness in Alyssa’s expression, her words were buckshot, piercing his skin.

His parents and his sister had been pestering him, nagging him, and guilting him for months, but none of them had ever put it like that.

It wasn’t that Callan cared a whit about proving his vindictive ex-girlfriend right or wrong for his own sake. Megan was gone, killed in a senseless car accident.

But in proving Megan right, he was proving to be exactly the opposite man from who he wanted to be. He didn’t want to be selfish. He wanted more than anything to be like his own father, generous and overflowing with love.

He would figure out a way to be Peri’s father. He’d figure out a way to prove to his daughter how much he loved her.

Even if it cost him everything else in the world, Callan was going to become Peri’s father. He was going to love her and take care of her.

As soon as Alyssa was safe.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

The anguish on Callan’s face broke something inside Alyssa. She didn’t think about what she was doing as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You’re going to figure it out.”

He pulled her close and hung on as if her presence were his only hope. “I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t imagine having survived this day without you.”

His words were a balm, calming her anxiety. She’d felt like a third wheel ever since she’d shown up at the hospital. She’d felt like she should have kept her distance.

But he hadn’t seen it that way.

He hadn’t told her about Peri, but as he’d talked, she’d realized that was more about him than about her. He was ashamed, not of his little girl, but of how she’d come to be, and how he was handling fatherhood.

She wondered how long he’d have waited to tell her if she hadn’t gone to the hospital. She wanted to confront him, but he had enough on his plate. And really, he didn’t owe Alyssa anything. They were barely friends.

At least that was what she told herself as they hugged in the silent kitchen. Though it should have started to feel awkward, it didn’t.

Until the hug went from comforting to friendly to something else, something she was afraid to define.

He loosened his hold, and she backed away and looked up.

He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, the slight touch sending prickles of awareness over her skin. His hand settled on her cheek, and he leaned closer, holding her eye contact as if waiting.

Her thoughts were too muddled to think straight, too muddled to catch up.

---