Page 59 of The Widower
Why does she act like my fears don’t scare her away?
Why does she stay close, even when I’m harsh and hollow and unworthy of her kindness?
This bar was supposed to be my place—my solitude, my punishment. But this little being doesn’t understand no.
And now here I am, crying like a child while she runs her small hand through the hair of a broken man who has no idea how to move, or what to say, or who he even is anymore.
I don’t even know if I can look at her. She sees right through me—straight into whatever’s left of my soul.
And I’m not used to being this vulnerable, especially not in front of a child.
I’m completely defenseless.
ISABELLE CAMPBELL
I searched everywhere for Hanna and couldn’t find her.That girl is going to give me a heart attack one of these days. She seems to know this house better than the people who actually work here.
I figured I’d have to check the one place I wasn’t supposed to go—the restricted hallways—because I was almost certain that’s where my little troublemaker had wandered off to.
Trusting my instincts, I moved carefully, opening one door after another down the unfamiliar corridor. But when I opened the third door, I nearly stumbled backward.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This couldn’t be real...
Colin and Hanna were there. My daughter stood beside him, her small hand resting on his head, and Colin—Colin was crying. Neither of them noticed me standing in the doorway. I just watched for a long moment, trying to make sense of what was happening—and how on earth he’d let her in here, of all places. It looked far too private, too personal.
I hesitated, torn between walking away and storming in to grab my daughter. But now I was sure of it—Colin was in tears, and knowing Hanna as I do, she must’ve sensed it.
A wild thought crossed my mind: had Colin called her somehow?No, he wouldn’t have brought her here—to his bar of all places. Which only confirmed my theory: Hanna still has a knack for sneaking into places she shouldn’t.
Then I noticed a small movement. From where I stood, hidden, I heard Colin’s voice, low and tired. “Your mom’s probably worried. Thank you for keeping me company.”
“Uh-huh. You’re welcome,” Hanna said softly.
She turned and started walking toward the door, while Colin stayed behind, sitting there on one of the benches, motionless.
As soon as she stepped through the doorway, I grabbed her hand and marched her straight toward the kitchen. Oh, she was definitely getting an earful.
“Hanna! What did I tell you about going down those hallways?!”I snapped, not bothering to ease into it.
“But, Mommy…”
“Sweetheart, this isn’t your house! For God’s sake, help me out here—I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”
“I went to find Uncle Colin,” she said softly, “and he was crying, so I went to make him feel better.”
Helen brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes instantly filling with tears.
“She’s not to blame, Isabelle,” Helen said gently.
“That’s not the point, Helen. It’s about his privacy. And you know my daughter… she crosses the line sometimes.”
“Yes, she does,” Helen agreed, nodding. “But maybe that’s what’s helping him. Somehow, she’s reaching a part of him no one’s been able to since… the accident.”
“You think Hanna might actually be helping him?”I asked, surprised.
“I do. Yesterday he told me he wants to reconnect with Joshua—and I’m certain this little one had a lot to do with that.”
“See, Mommy? I helped!” Hanna said, beaming up at me.
