Page 87 of A World Without You

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“I get to ride in your car?” Josie shrieks jubilantly.

“Yes! It’s a Honda CRV. Very exciting,” I say. She doesn’t pick up on my sarcasm.

Mom does and laughs. “Well, don’t stay over too late.”

“Oh, let the kids have fun,” Clint says. “It’s good for Bennett.”

I laugh, reminded of why I don’t want to stay here. I don’t feel like an adult here.

“Yes, but it’s supposed to snow tonight,” Shannon adds, gathering her granddaughter into her coat.

“Oh, that’s right,” Dad says, checking the weather app on his phone. “It’s not supposed to really start coming down until nine, though. Have fun, kiddo.”

“You guys, too,” I say and turn to Josie. “Shall we?”

She takes my hand and trots to the car.

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WE ARRIVE AT BENNETT’Stwenty minutes later. Since I saw Colin yesterday, I have felt like someone took a fork to my gut and spun and spun while telling me all the awful things I’ve done. I have been wound with embarrassment and regret, and no amount of retail therapy could fix it. But the sight of Bennett as he opens his front door and lets his daughter leap into his arms, her brown curls bouncing, makes my heart breathe a sigh of relief. He looks so different on his days off. He lost the slacks and button-up and is wearing simple jeans with a t-shirt that exposes both of his sleeves of tattoos and a backward hat that makes me forget he has such good hair underneath.

“How’s my girl?” he asks, scooping Josie into his arms.

“Good,” she says. “Me and Grandma made cookies!”

“I heard. Should we have some after dinner with hot chocolate?” he asks.

“We don’t have any marshmallows,” Josie remarks with a furrowed brow, wiggling out of his hold.

“We do now. I bought some.”

Her jaw drops in delight, and he gently tussles her hair on the top of her head. She squeals in excitement before racing over the threshold.

Fatherhood suits him. He has a smile reserved just for Josie, and while he doesn’t laugh much with anyone else, there’s always this deep joy radiating from him when he’s with her. His smile fades a bit as he stands and looks at me, “And how’s this girl?” he asks, reaching out and lifting my chin with one strong finger.

I’m not sure if it’s the way his tone is filled with compassion or the protectiveness of the gesture, but my shoulders drop, and I curl my body against him. “It didn’t go well.”

Bennett tightens his arms around me, then cups a hand over the back of my head. “I think this calls for backwards dinner.”

I look up at him, and he wipes the tears running rivers down my cheeks. “What’s that?”

“Dessert before dinner,” he answers plainly and boops my nose. “Take a breath. We’re making hot chocolate.”

Within minutes, Bennett has warmed milk on the stove, and just before the milk comes to a simmer, he pours the steaming milk into each of the three mugs he’s pulled from the cupboard and filled with cocoa mix. I admire his Christmas mug collection. One in the shape of a reindeer with a red nose, another covered in snowmen, and another that says, “The jolliest asshole this side of the nutcracker.”

I laugh as he slides that one to me, and I glance quickly at Josie as she sits next to me at the island, her tiny legs swinging under the stool.

He smiles sheepishly. “She can’t read yet.”

“Can’t read what?” she asks as he presents the snowman mug to her.

“Nothing,” I say, and she peers at my mug.

“Oh, I know what that says.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You do?”

Bennett’s expression is questioning, but he says nothing.