Page 69 of Holding Ground

“It was. I didn’t realize how much I needed to see what she looked like until I saw them.”

She smiles. “Can you send them to me?”

I still. “You want to see the pictures?”

“Of course. I want to know what the woman who gave me the greatest gift of my life looks like.”

I smile because I am so lucky to have her as my mom. “Yeah, I’ll send them over to you once we hang up.”

“Great.”

We talk for a while longer, and my parents ask more questions before they make me promise to keep them in the loop.

When I close my laptop after our call, I breathe a sigh of relief. I think I didn’t realize how much that was weighing on me, because I feel lighter now. Emotional still, but lighter. Kind of how you feel after you have a good cathartic cry.

I make my way back to the house. When I get inside, I set my laptop on the kitchen table, then go into the family room, where Elliott is watching television.

He has a concerned look on his face as soon as he sees me. “How did it go?”

I walk toward the couch. “You were right. They were great about it.”

Elliott gives me a soft smile. “I’m happy to hear that. Feel better?” He pats the couch, and I sit beside him.

“Much better.” I can’t resist the urge to lean into him, so I do, wrapping my arm around his waist. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” He lifts his arm and wraps it around me. “Why would you ask that, after what we shared today?”

I lift my head to look at him. “Baylor could wake up and come out of her room at any moment.”

His face softens. “I’d hear her door open. No worries.”

I nod and press my cheek back to his chest, right where I want to be.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN

Elliott

The day after Emelia and I sleep together, I’m reliving it all in my head when the bell at the school rings and the kids stream out the doors.

I spot Baylor leaving the school, and the moment I see her, I know that something is wrong. She doesn’t run over, excited to see me, like she usually does. In fact, she looks up at me, then back at the ground as she slowly makes her way over.

“Hey, kiddo.” I ruffle her hair.

“Can we go?”

Baylor is always ready to go when I pick her up, but it’s usually because she’s either starving and wants to get home to have her snack or because she wants to see Emelia. Today, she mentions neither, and my fatherly instincts kick in.

She doesn’t even bother handing me her backpack like she normally does.

We walk over to the truck, I make sure she straps herself in, and then I get in the driver’s seat. I keep checking on her through the rearview mirror, and Baylor looks pensively out the window for the first half of the drive, saying nothing.

“How was your day?”

She meets my gaze through the rearview mirror, then bursts into tears.

My stomach lurches, and I pull the truck into the parking lot of the veterinarian’s office. I barely come to a stop before throwing it in park, and I’m out the door, coming around to the passenger side. I open the back door and unfasten her seat belt. My little girl lunges into my arms.