Page 25 of Playing With Forever

And marriage? That was something I was never doing again.

Which was probably something I needed to talk to Josie about.

“Right,” I clipped, happy that part of the conversation was over.

“You have to get to work, and I have to go out to the studio and rummage through my canvases to see if there’s anything in there worth selling.”

“Sell?”

Lindy smiled and gave me a curt nod. “Yesterday I talked to Josie about it. I’ve been too scared, but she says they’re good enough, so before I lose the courage, I think I’m going to pick a few and do it.”

For years, I’d been telling my girl her art was good enough to show at a gallery.

“I see that look,” she sheepishly continued. “You’ve told me they’re amazing since I was like five and gave you my first finger painting. But you’re my dad, you love me, and you want me to feel special. I needed someone who could look at them critically. That’s what I’d been missing.”

She’d been missing it because I’d withheld outside influence the best I could.

But it was Lindy who’d picked Josie to show her work to.

“Just happy you believe me now.”

Lindy skipped over to where I was standing, rolled up on her toes, and kissed my cheek.

“I always believe you. But what I know is you love me so much you’d lie to me if it meant I never felt disappointment.”

Goddammit, when the hell did my kid become smarter than me?

“Lindy—”

“Have a good day at work,” she called on her way to the door. “Be safe and catch some bad guys.” The door opened she stepped through it but stopped to glance back at me over her shoulder. “Tell Josie I said hello, and don’t come home tonight.”

With that, she slammed the door, leaving me standing in the kitchen, in the house I’d bought when Lindy was ten, staring at the island where she’d blown out birthday candles every year from eleven on, wondering how in the hell my girl had grown up so quickly.

I PUSHED into the locker room, unsurprised to find Echo’s big ass frame parked on the bench in front of our team’s section.

“You were heard yesterday,” I started before he could lay into me.

“I was heard?”

I tossed my backpack on the bench and turned to dial on my locker.

“Yep. I have a date tonight.”

“A date?”

“With Josie,” I elaborated.

“Just like that?”

I finished unlocking my locker and sighed.

I’d already had one long-overdue conversation this morning; I didn’t think I had it in me to have another, but still, I gave Echo what he wanted.

“No, not just like that. I’ve spent the last week trapped in this fucked-up game of what-if or some such shit, where I’ve tortured myself with all the ways I fucked up and what if I’d done shit differently. What if I’d pushed Celeste harder to stay in Lindy’s life? What if I’d toughed it out longer with her? What if I wasn’t already fucked up from what happened to Selene? Would I have handled Celeste’s betrayal differently? What if I hadn’t kept Lindy from Shiloh? What if I hadn’t reacted to Celeste’s rejection with fear but instead with some different emotion that gave my kid strong women in her life? This shit and more has been on repeat. But the fucked-up part is, it wasn’t some epiphany or exercise in self-reflection. It was solely for the purpose of keeping my mind busy so I wouldn’t think about Josie. I also did it to keep Celeste’s betrayal fresh so I wouldn’t forget that a woman has the power to fuck a man up in ways that are lasting.

“So, yeah, Echo, yesterday you were heard. I was a dick because I was trying to come up with more reasons to push Josie out of my life and failing. I was pissed because I sat across the booth from my girl and watched her eat up every word Josie said like she was starving, and I did that to her. I was pissed at Josie for rolling out of my bed without so much as a goodbye. And on top of all of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the years I’ve known her from a distance and the years I wasted keeping my head firmly shoved up my ass.”

When I was done, Echo was staring at me like I’d grown an extra head and sprouted horns.