Sinner (Shelter Harbor #1)(171)
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Landon
Before, when I was roaring through the streets to her building - before I knew she was gone - I didn’t stop to think. I didn’t for a second stop to think about the implications and the consequences to my own world and my own rules that chasing after a girl means.
Because I didn’t care anymore.
And I don’t.
Even now, when she might hate me, and probably sees me for everything I am and not like what she sees. The messenger of bad news always gets shot, and I accept that. I accept that I should have told her earlier, if only to be the one to catch her when she fell. I didn’t and I have to live with that, no matter what happens here.
Except she was gone.
She’s still gone.
I stare at the laptop sitting on my kitchen island - open, but black, like it’s been since I opened it and started staring at half an hour ago.
The worst part is, I can’t even really blame her. She peeked behind the curtain. She saw the truth in the lies and dark clouds hovering over her own past and her memories, and she cut and run.
I’m pretty sure I’d have done the same.
“Dad?”
I glance up to see Emily standing in the doorway to the kitchen in her PJs.
“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing up?”
“I can’t sleep,” she says glumly.
I sigh, gripping the countertop. “Yeah, I hate when that happens. C’mere.” She shuffles over, and I lift her up onto one of the kitchen stools.
“Daaaad, I can get up myself you know.”
I grin, turning away to hide it. “I know, I know.”
Damnit why do they have to grow up? Why does change have to happen at all? You get these moments that are just flawless, and it just seems unfair that they eventually have to move on and evolve.
The fair, for instance - one perfect, still-frame memory of a day. Emily, Serena, and I - laughing, smiling, having the time of our lives, and not once thinking about what comes later. Because there is no later when you’re in a moment like that. A moment like that is past, present, and future all rolled into one freeze-frame snapshot of time.
But fairs end. Perfect afternoons turn to evening. Daughters grow up and don’t want you picking them up anymore.
The girl that meant more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself leaves you and your indecisions behind.
“What are you doing awake?”
I sigh. “Can’t sleep either.”
“Oh.”
I shake my head, clearing the melancholy. “You know what would help us both, I bet?”
“What?”
“Hot cocoa.”
Emily beams and I chuckle.
“Oh, too big to have your dad help you up into chairs, but not too old for some hot cocoa with him, huh?”
“Nope!”
I grin, ruffling her hair before I turn and grab the mix from the cupboard.
“How’s the temp?”
“Perfect.”
“Awesome.”
Emily and I sit across the island from each other, the kitchen lights dimmed in my attempt to get her sleepy for bed.
“You look sad.”
I glance up, my brows raised. “Me? Nah.” I shake my head. “Just thinking about work stuff.”
“And Serena?” she says teasingly.
I grin wryly at her. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a smart-ass kid?”
She giggles.
The room goes back to silence as we sip our cocoa.
“Dad?”
I glance up. “Yeah, honey?”
“You know I’m getting older, right?”
“I am painfully aware of that, yes.”
She nods and looks back at her mug again before she glances up at me.
“And you know I’m old enough to know Mom’s not coming back, right?”
The sting in my eyes and the tightness in my chest come fast, and I’m up and around the kitchen in seconds, wrapping my arms around her and scooping her against me.
“I love you, kiddo.”
“I love you too, Dad.” She hugs me back before I finally let her breathe. I pull back and she looks up at me. “And I know Serena isn’t going to be my mom, you know.” She looks down at her mug. “But I’d like it if she was my friend.”
I smile as I reach out and stroke her hair. “Well, then I think she’s a very lucky woman.”
Emily beams. “Dad, I think a movie would help me fall asleep.”
I chuckle. “Yeah I bet staying up another two hours doing anything would put you to sleep.”
“Can we call Serena and try it?”
The smile drops from my lips as I swallow the sourness in my throat. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, kiddo.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s late, that’s why.”
“What about tomorrow night?”