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His eyes close at my words.
“I do love it when you say my name.”
Unable to hold them back any longer, a sob leaves me and then another.
“This isn’t funny!” I repeat, harsher.
“I’m not laughing, baby.”
And he’s not. Leo looks at me with an expression that upsets me more.
Acceptance.
“You weren’t supposed to find out like this,” he tells me calmly.
“Or at all.”
“I was going to tell you. I just wasn’t ready for it to end yet.”
“Liar,” I mumble.
His face darkens again. I’m making him angry. Like he has the right after what he’s done. Irritation builds my confidence.
“Liar!” My words echoes out, the space between us closing when I step forward.
“Keep your fucking voice down. I will not tell you again.”
My body responds to his threat in more than one way. I really am fucked up. Frustrated at myself and angry with the man before me, I push more.
“Or what, Leo? What the fuck are you going to do? Lie to me a little more . . .”
Before I can say anything more, a small voice cuts between us.
“Daddy?”
Doc and I both freeze. My heart plummets. He recovers first.
“I’m sorry, baby. We didn’t mean to be so loud. Go back to your bedroom. Dinner will be a little late.”
Wetting my lips, I try to swallow around my suddenly dry and scratchy throat. Taking a shaky breath, I hold on to the kitchen island. The cold countertop helps ground me.
Turning, I avoid looking at Leo.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, kneeling before her. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Why don’t you pick out a book? Shelby will come read with you while I finish up in here?”
Her pretty eyes flit to the man behind me.
Stroking my thumb across her cheek, I nod because what else is there to say? I may be caught between wanting to punch her dad in the face and needing to kiss him, but none of this needs to play out in front of her.
When the little girl hesitates, her dad adds, “She’ll be in, in a second.”
Relief and annoyance mix within me. I don’t want to fight with him, but who is he to decide that this conversation is over?
This is entirely his fault.
The kitchen stays silent except for the gentle patter of small feet heading down the hallway. I stay kneeling even after she’s out of earshot.
