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CHASE
“You’ve reached the voicemail box of—”
“Damn it.” I punch my thumb against the end-call button and toss my phone. It hits the couch cushion so hard that it rebounds and lands on the ground.
“Damn it is right.” With a grin spread wide on her face, Willow bounces over, picks up my phone, and holds it out for me—equal parts sass and humor.
“Willow. Language, please.”
She giggles and plops down beside me. “You first, Dad,” she says, resting her head against my shoulder and snuggling into my side.
She’s done this a million times before, but the older she gets, the more precious it feels.
I lean down to place a kiss on her head, registering the smell of her mother’s shampoo and doing my best to ignore the sting of sadness that hits me. I can still remember that sweet baby scent she had so many years ago.
At the time, I would hold her while she slept, enjoying the weight of her on my chest and marveling at how small and perfect she was. I had no idea how quickly it would all fly by. As much as I love the little firecracker sitting beside me, I sometimes miss when she was sweet and innocent. Way before all the talk of bra shopping and shaving.
Before Willow, I never even considered having children. It’s not that I didn’t want to. The idea just never crossed my mind. But once she was born, it was hard to imagine a world without her.
I may not be her biological father, but I’ve always tried to give her the fierce love and dedication she deserves from a male figure. I never wanted her to feel less than because her sperm donor walked out on her. So, when she and Emily moved in with me, she became mine. My girl, my responsibility.
Over the years, I became so wrapped up in my commitment to her and Emily that any thought of getting into a new relationship someday or having another child was immediately pushed aside. I’d already given myself to my childhood best friend. I’d already built a family. And even in the dark times, when I was forced to acknowledge that I would lose Emily, it never felt right to consider the possibility that there could be more someday.
Until Addison.
And in the months since, it’s been impossible to push her from my mind. It’s like her nonstop spiral in my brain brought her to my door, and now I’m faced with decisions that are almost too overwhelming to even contemplate.
Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she already packed it up to Los Angeles with plans to never speak to me again. But... I can’t just let things go with her. I have to at least try to explain my side of things. I can’t live with her thinking I’m no better than the other men in her life, treating her as if her presence is expendable. And I sure as fuck am not going to have my child grow up without me.
“Where’s Mom?” Willow asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.
Exactly what I’d like to fucking know.
Emily is the first to wake in our house every morning. By the time Willow and I drag ourselves out of bed, Emily’s usually already on the front porch, rocking in the early morning breeze with a cup of coffee loaded with hazelnut creamer and sugar.
However, this morning, I woke to a pristine coffeepot in the kitchen and an empty made-up bed in her room. Forty minutes and five missed calls later—and possibly a ransacked house from looking for a note I never found—I’m not any closer to knowing her whereabouts.
Guilt has made its home in my stomach, even if the lines are blurred on whether or not it belongs there. It’s not like Emily’s against me sleeping with other women. It just isn’t something we talk about. In fact, I don’t think we’ve discussed it since we first decided to marry, when she was so worried that the choice was taking away the option for me to have a fulfilling relationship someday.
Maybe I should have spent more time talking it over with her last night. Instead, I was so focused on my worry of where Addison had run off to and how terrible the whole thing made me feel that I didn’t stop to think about how Emily was feeling. I just let her go to bed to deal with her thoughts alone, thinking it was for the best. Thinking space was what she needed.
I pull my arm out from between Willow and I and wrap it around her shoulders.“Your mom had to go out this morning. So, I guess it’s just you and me for breakfast. Whaddya want?”
“Pancakes!” She jumps off the couch and heads toward the kitchen.
I let my head fall back on the couch, stopping the groan before it can escape my lips. If anyone could rival Addison’s love for pancakes, it would be Willow.
I grab my cell phone and send a quick text to Drake, checking again to see if he’s heard from Addison or Olivia, then follow Willow’s lead into the kitchen. I sit down at the island and watch as she gathers all the ingredients together on the countertop in front of me. With her home for the summer, I have more flexible hours at work, so elaborate breakfasts are a must. She does most of the work at this point; I’m just here for show.
As Willow begins measuring out the flour, she catches her tongue between her teeth, and even though my mind is spinning with worry, I crack a small smile at the cute look of concentration on her face. When she’s done, she places the flour-covered measuring cup on the counter and puts the cap back on the canister.
“So,” she drags out, “did you talk to Mom about the bra thing?”
“Can’t say I’ve found the time,” I tell her truthfully.
“Okay,” she says, nodding.
She’s trying to sound grown up and serious, so I do my best to keep the smile off my face.
