Page 18 of Ruined
Pulling back, I dropped a kiss to her head. “What do you say we grab a bite to eat?”
“Yes! I’m so hungry.”
With a chuckle, I straightened and took her hand, “You’re always hungry.” We walked until we spotted a little café. The smell of pastry and freshly brewed coffee hit my senses the moment we stepped inside. Molly and I found a cosy spot near one of the windows. After the waitress took our orders, I scanned the people milling about beyond the glass.
A delighted squeal sounded from my girl’s throat when our drinks arrived a few moments later. “Mmm, yummy,” my girl exclaimed when she wrapped her lips around the straw and went in for another taste. “Chocolate is the best.”
My mouth stretched into a grin as I brought the steaming mug closer. My kid loved chocolate milkshakes almost as much as she loved Spider-Man and painting. “Did you have fun today?” I set the mug on the coaster and placed my interlocked fingers under my chin.
Molly nodded furiously, her lips still attached to the straw. “Mmmhmm.”
The waitress appeared again, holding a coloring page as well as a cup filled with pencils. I’d never seen Molly ditch a chocolatey drink so fast. She tipped the cup over and started arranging the pencils by color, before carefully selecting the dark blue one first.
“Your food will be out soon,” the waitress promised as she turned to leave. Without taking my eyes off Molly, I tipped my head in thanks.
My daughter traded the dark blue pencil for a light blue one, coloring her sky in shades of blue. “Daddy, are you lonely?”
Luckily, there wasn’t any coffee in my mouth, it might have sprayed all over the table. “Why would you ask such a question?”
She shrugged her little shoulders, not taking her eyes off the page. “Grams told Pops you were because you didn’t have a somebody like Uncle Logan and Uncle Brett.”
Reaching across the table, I covered her hand with mine, halting her coloring and earning myself a glare. “I have a somebody, baby. It’s you.”
“It’s not the same, Daddy.”
When did my Molly become so smart? I gave the small hand tucked in mine a squeeze. “I’m not lonely, baby. I promise.” Even as I said the words, my conscience accused me of being a liar.
