Page 109 of I'll Keep Her Safe

“It could never be about you, Dad. The worst part about leaving New York is missing you. Well, you and Poppy.” Bailey’s brows draw together as if she’s suddenly remembered what prompted this conversation, and she takes a long slug of wine.

I sip my beer too, listening to the clock tick above the stove in her kitchen, the sound of traffic outside. It feels so much better to have everything out on the table, but where do we go from here?

“Poppy said you’re in love,” Bailey mumbles, focusing on her wineglass.

“We are. I know it’s quick, but—”

“Dean and I fell in love quickly,” she says with a shrug. “When you’re with the right person, you just know.”

I smile at my daughter, surprisingly wise despite her age.

Bailey sets her wineglass down, pulling out her phone. She brings up the message from Kurt with the picture of me and Poppy at Jones Beach, and studies it.

“You look happy, Dad. You both do.”

“We are happy. We…” I swallow. “We want a future together.”

Bailey nods, still studying the picture. “That’s what Poppy said, too.” She looks up at me. “So you want to marry her?” she asks, her voice gruff, as ifshe’sthe father here.

I scrub a hand across my beard in an attempt to hide my smile. “Yes. I want to marry her, I want to have a family with her…” Bailey looks almost sad as she gazes at the two of us on her phone, and it makes my chest hot. “You’re my family, honey. You always will be. But… I missed so much. I never got to see you take your first steps, teach you how to ride a bike or climb a tree.”

“I know,” Bailey says hoarsely, blinking the shine from her eyes. “You should get to have all that. I want you to be happy.” She sniffles, shaking off the emotion, then meets my gaze. “And if you and Poppy make each other happy… then I’m happy.”

I press my eyes shut as emotion overwhelms me. Knowing Bailey accepts Poppy and me… that’s all I could ever want. More than I could ask for.

“Honey…” My eyes brim with tears. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

“Dad.” She looks at me in shock, reaching over to hug me. “I’ve never seen you cry.”

I laugh through the emotion, squeezing my daughter. It’s relief, I realize, on so many levels. That Bailey knows the truth about her childhood, that I don’t have to carry that burden anymore—the need to prove I could have been a good father, if I’d only been given the chance. I’m free to be myself now, to enjoy my relationship with my daughter for what it is. I’m free to pursue this new business idea without worrying what Bailey will think if it fails because she knows the truth. She knows I wanted the world for her—that I still do.

And then there’s the fact that she’s okay with me and Poppy. She can make her peace with us, with the future I see more and more clearly every day.

Bailey rubs my back, sighing, and I’m flooded with gratitude for her. For her maturity, her compassion, the woman she’s become.

“Thank you,” I say as we part, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for being so understanding. So supportive.”

“You’ve been nothing but supportive of me, Dad.” She gives me a tired smile, sagging back against the couch. She suddenly looks exhausted, and for the first time, I notice the rings under her eyes, the pallor in her cheeks. I think back to Dean telling me she works late most nights, and my brow knits.

“I’m worried about you, honey.”

She rolls her head on the sofa to look at me. “Why?”

“You didn’t get home until late. Dean said that’s normal.”

“It is.” A sigh gusts out of her, followed by a yawn. “I love my job, but… it’s a lot. Long hours.”

I nod, an idea sprouting in my mind. After everything we’ve discussed tonight, I don’t want to fly back home. I want to rebuild my relationship with my daughter, establish a new foundation based on honesty and trust. Things have calmed down a little at work, and I know the team can manage without me. It’ll be good practice for when I eventually move into the new side of my business.

“Could you take a few days off?” I venture. “I could stick around for a while, we could hang out, spend a little time together.”

Bailey’s face falls. “I can’t. I have a presentation tomorrow about the New York conference, and three back-to-back meetings.”

“What about the rest of the week?” I press.

She shakes her head. “I can’t ask for leave yet. I haven’t been there long and it doesn’t look good.”

“Yeah, but… you could mysteriously get food poisoning for a couple days,” I suggest, and Bailey gives me a look of mock horror.

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