AllFreeNovel
Share Us
God.
She’s such a little shit sometimes.
But she’s also so fucking me, I can’t be mad for long.
Dante calls her his best payback for making him put up with my drama all the time.
As if he didn’t come into this relationship with his own boatload.
“The first time.” Her nose scrunches, and I hear an old voice, a familiar voice, before she can speak.
“Lilah! What a surprise!” I turn and smile.
“Julius. It’s lovely to see you.”
“You as well, it’s been a while.”
“Family, ya know?” He just smiles, turning to look at my daughter.
Dante says she looks nothing like him, that we’re two peas in a pod. He likes to say when we walk into a room together, everyone quiets a bit, shocked to see the two most beautiful girls in one place.
He’s full of shit, of course, but it makes Liza smile.
But when she’s like this—pouty and broody and irritated—I see her father.
The way her brow never crinkles, the way her jaw sets tightly, the way her eyes, the same dark caramel as her father's, go just a bit darker . . .
All Dante.
“This her?” he asks, and it's like a flashback to another time.
“Yes. This is our Liza,” I say, moving an arm to Liza’s hip, pulling her closer.
“She looks just like Dante,” Julius says, and whether he knows it or not, he just dished out her favorite compliment.
Her back straightens, her jaw loosens just a hair, and the tiniest smile comes to her lips.
Liza loves to be told she’s like her dad.
“Do you have it?” I ask my old friend, letting go of my daughter and stepping up to the glass. Julius doesn’t even say anything, just nods and turns, grabbing a small bag.
“Thank you, Julius. Dante covered it, yes?” I ask, and he nods before I say our goodbyes (Liza being too much of a bratty shit to do more than wave) before leaving.
* * *
An hour later, we’re parked in a secluded area facing the lake, Liza silent.
“You know, I didn’t always live like this,” I say, my voice quiet. I don’t say more, waiting for my daughter to say something. Anything.
“What?” she says, turning to face me.
“I wasn’t always . . . I wasn’t always in the family, you know.”
Liza goes silent, her eyes getting wide.
We don’t talk about the family with the kids.
They have a bare understanding of who we are, of what we do. As they get older, we’ve had to answer questions, had to explain whispers, but we never give more info than necessary.
