Page 83 of Single Dad Dilemma
Larry’s paws made a pitter-pat sound on the floor in the hallway, and I tilted my head, waiting for him to appear. He stopped in the doorway of my room and plopped his butt down, his own head tilted likeWell ... what are you waiting for?
“You’re so pushy,” I said, and my voice sounded thick and rough, no hiding the emotions I’d been shoving down all week. The dog walked over to the bed and looked up at me, letting out a weary sigh. I rolled my eyes and leaned down to pick him up. When my hand curled under his belly, he groaned. Once safely on the bed, he sat down, then stared at the box.
The pictures on top were faded with time, even though they hardly saw the light of day. A single glimpse of the top picture was enough to make my hand freeze in midair.
A much younger Larry, maybe only a year old, was cuddled up in a brighter, more vibrant version of the blanket he slept on every day. And the face above his ...
My lungs burned, so did my eyes—but I couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe. A wildfire swept through my entire body while I stared at the smile. The dimples. The rosy cheeks and the bright smile.
That was enough.
I slammed the box shut and set it aside, trying to pull air into my lungs while my heart raced.
Therapy,I thought again with a desperate laugh.I need therapy.
Larry looked up at me, and on a stack of Bibles, I’d have sworn he was tearing up.
“I know, buddy,” I whispered. “I miss them too.”
Carefully, I set my hand along his skinny back and gently pet him. He leaned in to the touch. Just a fraction. But enough that I noticed, and I smiled faintly.
There was a knock on the front door, and I deflated, not sure how much I could handle. For a moment, I thought about not answering it. Ignoring whoever it was. Guilt tore at my insides, and I knew that if it was Maggie or Bryce, I’d never be able to forgive myself.
I blew out a hard breath and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I exited the room. My eyes were a little red, but hopefully not enough that anyone would notice. I’d rather let someone think I was on drugs than the actual truth. Lily Townsend, sitting alone and crying? No fucking thank you. The silhouette on the other side of the door was distinctly female, and my heart let out a puttering little sigh of relief-slash-disappointment that it wasn’t Barrett.
At the moment, I could not handle that man. Because, so help me, if he gave me another shovel or offered up some strangely thoughtful version of help, I’d ask him to hug me. Or I’d cry. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
The crying. Definitely the crying. My face got all red and splotchy, and nothing about it was attractive. A healthy amount of vanity was not the end of the world, okay?
It didn’tmeananything.
I pulled in a fortifying breath and pulled open the door.
It was Robin.
“Oh. Hi.”
She smiled, seeming genuinely amused by my confusion. “I’m sorry to intrude. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Super busy,” I said. “Just ... the busiest.”
Her eyes traced over my face and seemed to find the lie pretty quickly, even if she chose not to comment on it.
“I was wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight. My husband and I leave soon, and we would love to spend a bit more time with you. Barrett’s done with the season, of course, so we thought a nice family-style dinner could be a good way to spend our last evening.”
Have you ever tried swallowing around an elephant? That was what it felt like. The idea of dinner with the Kings filled me with actual terror, the kind that made my limbs tingle.
“I can’t,” I heard myself say. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Her face fell. “Of course. I should’ve known you might have plans.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to correct her, but I just ... didn’t. The truth was ... Icouldn’t. I could not sit at a table with all of them and pretend like I was okay when I wasn’t. I couldn’t watch Maggie tell stories and Bryce talk about his day. I couldn’t meet Barrett’s knowing gaze and pretend like it didn’t shake me to my fucking core.
I tried to push a polite smile on my face, but based on her expression, it must have come off like a grimace. “I’m sorry,” I said again. Not like I had anything to apologize for. It wasn’t wrong to say no to someone, even if their offer was nice and kind and thoughtful.
At the moment, nice and kind and thoughtful would be my absolute undoing.
Robin paused like she was going to say something, then thought better of it. “If we don’t see you before we leave,” she said carefully, “it was a real pleasure, Lily. I hope this isn’t the last we see of you.”
