Page 36 of Don't Regret Me
Whatever it was, she let them have it.
“Elizabeth Ross.” Her father was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter when she walked in. Owen’s legs dangled off the stool next to him.
“Don’t be mean to Mom.” He jumped down and wrapped his arms around her.
Liz couldn’t help laughing as she hugged him back. “Papa isn’t being mean, honey. He only said my name.”
“Yeah, but he’s going to give you a lecture.” His face twisted in disgust.
“Trust me, O, I’m used to it. Why don’t you go get ready for bed, and I’ll come tell you a story as soon as Ev is out.”
He hesitated, looking from her father to her before hanging his head and stomping down the hall.
Liz rubbed her eyes. “Am I going to get a lecture?”
“Your kids were watching you.”
Her face burned, but she kept her expression neutral. “And?”
“I’m not going to tell you what to do?—”
“Oh, really?” She went to the stove where a kettle whistled. Pouring hot water over the tea leaves in two mugs her dad had already set out, she inhaled the aroma. “That would be a change.”
“I’m your father. It’s my job to keep you safe.”
One corner of her mouth lifted into a smile as she slid a mug in front of him. “Safe from intruders, thieves, homelessness, probably. Those are all things you can protect me from, but there’s so much more in life you can’t.”
“I can try. Nick… he…”
“Doesn’t remember me. I know. It’s all I seem to know these days.” She took a sip of tea, scorching her tongue in the process. “But Dad, when I’m with him…”
Her dad didn’t fully believe her about the lake house, as hard as he tried, but she saw the way he looked at Nick, the conflict in him. He wanted to think it could be true, to think the impossible was truly possible. But most people weren’t wired that way.
At least, most adults.
“The twins think it’s some romantic love story. And then, they saw him kiss you, and it just solidified that.”
Maybe it was a love story, or maybe it was nothing at all. She wouldn’t know if she didn’t see where this went. “What’s so wrong about them dreaming a little? They’ve faced so many struggles. I don’t want them to think that’s all life is. One long road full of nothing but hardship. Because it’s not. I almost died. Three times now. And yet, I’m standing here with you. That’s a miracle, isn’t it?”
He scratched the side of his face, the defeated tilt of his shoulders telling her he already knew he’d lost. “You’re the best miracle.”
“So, why do you think I’m the only one? We can never fully understand why one person lives and another dies. If we try, all it will bring are questions I’m not sure we want answered. About life. About God. I don’t believe in miracles in the sense that I was chosen to survive. There was no choice, only luck. But a miracle encompasses everything that’s unknowable. All the mysteries of the universe can be wrapped up in that one word. I know you don’t think I went anywhere outside that hospital when I was in my coma, but how do you know?”
She couldn’t even be one hundred percent sure the entire thing hadn’t been a dream. Not until she went to that house and found what was hidden there. But she believed it was.
“Well…” He sighed. “I can’t know for sure.”
“Exactly. Yet, you’d rather think it was all in my head. Even after Nick returned to Gulf City. He feels something for me he can’t explain to himself. Why would you rather live in a world where something isn’t possible just because it can’t be explained? I don’t want my kids in that world, nor the one where their mother gives up on someone she loves. I love him, Dad. Whether he ever returned here or was out of my life forever, I would love him.”
He reached across the counter to take her hand. “Have you told him about your history together?”
She shook her head, dread building in the pit of her stomach. “I know how crazy I sound, how this entire situation is more than most people can handle. If I told him… No, I can’t.” Not until she got that script from the house. Not until she had proof.
He stood, rounded the counter, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I do hope it’s real, Lizzy. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know, and I love you for that. But if a person never gets hurt, that means they never let themselves fall. And that would be so much worse.” She set her mostly full mug on the counter and offered him one final smile. “Pain won’t kill me, Dad. If this goes bad, I can handle it.”
When she walked into Owen’s room, she found the two pajama-clad kids huddled on his bed, talking in secretive voices. That usually spelled trouble.
