Page 179 of Losing Faith

“Hi, Lissy.” My eyes scan her tired face. “Do you have a tracker on me?” I tease but her sour mood doesn’t shift.

She looks over my shoulder and takes a step beside me as she watches Belle twirl around in her pink tutu. “I remember you mentioning when she had ballet practice when you showed me videos of her dancing.” She shrugs. “This was the most expensive studio closest to your house.”

She turns to me now, worry pulling at her brows. “I know you wanted me to stay away from her and I’m sorry for showing up, but I want to talk to you.”

“No, it’s okay,” I reassure her, mainly because she looks sick to her stomach. “I’ve been calling you.”

She nods as she turns back to the window of kids dancing. “Is that the ballet teacher she wanted you to marry?”

I bite back my smile as I follow her line of sight to a woman who doesn’t hold a candle to her. “You sound jealous.” I keep my voice low although the moms around us took their seats again.

“Should I be?”

I feel her watching me carefully and I look back down at her to answer her unspoken question. “We’re good.” I take her hand and I don’t miss the breath that escapes her.

“I overreacted,” I start. “I know you didn’t hit her with ill intent. We should talk, but we’re good.”

She nods in return before kissing my hand. “We really do need to talk.”

I feel my brows furrow as I try to decipher what that means. “Okay…”

She smiles, but it’s clearly forced. “Can we talk now? Before she’s done. I don’t want to wait until tonight when she falls asleep.”

I nod at the seriousness in her tone and guide her out of the building. She’s quiet the entire time, and it isn’t until we’re in my car that she turns to me.

“I have a lot to say so please don’t interrupt me, and if I cry, just ignore me. I’m drunk.”

I go still at her words, but she rambles on before I can question her sobriety.

“I was abused growing up,” she starts and she watches me carefully, but I keep my reaction at bay.

“I always thought my household was normal. Sire lived next door with a worse life. It wasn’t until we visited the twin’s house that our world got turned on its axis. I remember August spilling juice and I flinched when Kat let out a gasp. I prepared for her to hit him and yell at me for the request, but she didn’t. Sire and I were so damn confused by how nice everyone in that house was.”

She shakes her head at herself as she leans against the door to focus on me. “I hit Isabelle out of pure instinct and it wasn’t with ill intent. I didn’t do it because I was mad or to hurt her, but that was my first reaction, and I’m not telling you this sob story to excuse myself but—” she cuts herself off as she tries to find the right words. “I’m not going to go around hitting your kid. I don’t want to. It’s just all I know, you know? It’s built inside me. I know your parenting style is different, and I’m not trying to change that. It was just my initial instinct and at first, I didn’t see anything wrong with it because I’m wired that way. But I don’t want to hit her, and I won’t.”

When she remains quiet I realize it’s my turn to respond. “You’re drunk?”

Her eyes dart between mine and a spot over my shoulder before she picks at her nails.

I take her hand but she pulls away, shaking her head as she focuses on the console between us. “We’re not talking about that right now.”

“I think we should.”

She shakes her head again before biting her nails. “Can you just reply to what I said?” Her eyes meet mine and she looks… skittish.

I keep a careful gaze on her before giving her what she wants. “I don’t expect you to know how to react to everything Belle does the first time. I’ve been raising her for five years and she still does shit that makes me question my entire existence.”

She stifles a laugh and I bite back a smile before continuing.

“She wants you to be her mom and I want that too. That means eventually you’re going to be responsible for disciplining her and under no circumstance are we hitting her. She can be a sassy brat at times, but she’s far from a bad kid and hurting her will never solve anything. I know you whacked her out of pure fear. There was a lot going on and I’d like to believe you wouldn’t hit her as a form of discipline if you had a clear mind. We’ll work around the wires your parents screwed up.”

Another smile grows on her face, but when I notice her picking at her cuticles, I know she wants to add more. We sit in silence and I watch her work up the nerve before she turns to me again.

“I’m probably proving you right, aren’t I?” She looks torn and it truly puts a pain in my chest. “About needing to spend less time with her.”

I shake my head at her. I didn’t mean for my words to hurt her so much. I knew there was no easy way to put it, but it needed to be said. Even if she wasn’t struggling right now, I never introduce my partners to Isabelle. Especially not as early as I did this time, and I’m aware this was different since she already knew my daughter, but we’re moving too fast and Isabelle is getting too excited.

“I didn’t want to be right, love.” I rub her leg, feeling the need to touch her. “Idesperatelywanted to be wrong. I wanted you to prove I was overreacting. I wanted to grovel my ass off for even suggesting it.” I let out a frustrated breath, angry with myself now. “I’m sorry if that’s what pushed you to drink, Lisette. I have no idea what I’m doing here, so I need you to tell me how to go about these things. When and how to share bad news. How to comfort you.”

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