Page 54 of His Wounded Heart

“Well, I still say you’re too young to have an iPad.”

“Can I have my dad instead?”

Fuck!

I snuggle my brilliant negotiator closer. Then I tip up her chin so we can look at each other eye to eye. “If I could have given you the good and loving dad you deserve, I would have. You deserve the best daddy in the world, because you are the best daughter in the world.”

She frowned. “Then why isn’t he here?”

“Honey, he died,” I say simply. As I watch her little face crumple, I feel like the worst person in the world because I am thankful that I get to tell Bella that Brantley is dead. Instead of having to tell her that she is unwanted. I am cowardly pond scum.

I watch as her eyes well up with tears. “My daddy died?”

I pull her close, cradling her in my arms like I used to. “Yes, Bella, I’m so sorry, but he died.”

She starts to cry quietly in my arms. “But I wanted to meet him.”

He hadn’t deserved a beautiful daughter like Bellatrix Star.

“I know you did, Baby.” I murmur the words against her forehead.

“Is he in heaven now, like Rory’s grandpa?” Big brown eyes look up at me, begging for reassurance.

“Yes, Bella. His soul has gone up to heaven.”

“Will I meet him in heaven?”

I bite my lip. I believe in a just God, and part of me wants vengeance on Brantley Harris, but at the same time, I believe that every one of us is worthy of God’s forgiveness. That includes Brantley. And maybe one day, I will be able to forgive him as well. Maybe.

“Mama. Will I?”

“What?”

“Will I meet my daddy in heaven?”

“Yes, Bella, you will,” I assure my grieving daughter.

My precious girl continues to cry, and I continue to rock her as she mourns for something she can never have. I wish I could mourn for my nineteen-year-old self, but I can’t. After having Norville and Wanda as parents, how could I have been so naïve? But I did end up with the best thing in the whole world, and I’m holding her in my arms.

Finally, Bella’s crying devolves into hiccups.

I try to push up from the chair with Bella in my arms, but it doesn’t work. When did she get so big I wonder. Slipping her out of my arms so her feet hit the floor, I get up and coax her down the hall to the bathroom. I can lift her up onto the counter, then I hand her a tissue, and she blows her nose.

“Are you okay, Mama?”

“Huh?”

“You look sad. Are you okay about daddy being in heaven?”

There she goes again, asking questions that hit me in my gut.

“I’m always sad when someone dies. He was special since he was your daddy.”

Bella lurches forward and throws her arms around my neck. “It’s okay, Mama, you didn’t have to marry him. We’re a good enough family.”

Ahhh, damn it.

Good enough?