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“I know,” he says with a heavy sigh. “We can’t help who we love, can we?”
My greatest fear lurks like a monster in the darkness at the back of my brain. The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“I’m not like her, am I?”
He blinks as if trying to play mental catchup. “Like Pamela?”
I nod, almost afraid to hear his answer. For Crawford to think that I’m a carbon copy of her would be devastating.
When he remains silent, searching my eyes, I admit softly, “I don’t want to be.”
Understanding dawns as he reaches across the table and covers my hand with his larger one. “Only in the very best ways, Carina. Your mother has a sparkling personality and so do you. That woman is the life of the party.” He gives me a wink. “Just like you. For a lot of years, she busted her ass, so you had a safe place to live. Often working overtime to make sure you had whatever you needed.”
Guilt suffuses me because he’s right. There were times when she went without comfortable shoes for work so I could sign up for a dance class or afford the newest recital costume.
“It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her to begin with. I’m well aware that in this day and age, a woman doesn’t need to be taken care of, but I wanted to make her life easier. Better. And for a while, we were really happy.” A faraway look enters his eyes. “I didn’t think that was possible after Sandra died. What I’ve learned throughout the years is that sometimes relationships or people are only in your life for a short period of time and don’t last forever. You have to make the most of them while you can. Nothing is ever guaranteed.” He refocuses his attention on me before leaning forward and ensnaring my gaze. “But you, my dear, are in it for much longer. No matter what happens with Pamela, I’ll always be your father.”
I don’t realize that tears have gathered in my eyes until one spills down my cheek. I jump from the chair and fly around the circular table, burying my face against his broad chest as more wetness leaks from me.
Once the floodgates open, there doesn’t seem to be a way to stop it. I don’t remember the last time I cried like this. As emotion continues to pour from me, his arms tighten as if he’ll never let go.
“I’m sorry, Carina,” he murmurs. “Maybe I should have said all this to you a long time ago. I just assumed you understood my feelings.”
“Do you promise to always feel that way no matter what happens with her?”
I need him to say the words.
Just once.
Out loud.
“I do. You’re my daughter in every way possible and nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”
I swipe at the tears as I pull away enough to settle on the chair next to him. “I was afraid that after you found me with Ford, you’d feel differently.”
He shakes his head. “Never. Maybe I was shocked by what I walked in on, but that’s all it was. Surprise.” He releases a steady breath. “I never wanted Ford to take advantage of you or make you feel pressured to do something you weren’t ready for.”
“It was never like that between us,” I tell him.
“After I found out that you were sneaking into his room and spending the night, I made sure it came to an end. I was so disappointed in him.”
“Wait a minute…what?” I blink away the wetness as my head spins with this revelation. “You mean senior year?”
“Yes. I walked in one morning and found you curled up next to him. I pulled Ford aside after that and told him in no uncertain terms there wasn’t to be a sexual relationship between you two.” He sifts through the emotions in my gaze as doubt creeps into his whiskey-colored eyes. “You were too young. Too impressionable. Even then, I could see how enamored you were.” He falls silent before asking in a softer tone, “I made the right decision, didn’t I?”
My mind tumbles back to senior year and how close we’d grown. And then how my heart broke when he pushed me away. In that one moment of clarity, the entirety of our history shifts and changes, morphing into something different. He didn’t freeze me out because he’d grown bored.
He kept his distance because his father insisted upon it.
“I love him,” I admit.
“Yeah, I thought you might,” he says with a slow nod. “And I don’t think Ford ever stopped. He insisted that he loved you back then and I told him that he was too young to be making that kind of declaration. Especially when your mother and I were married, and we were a family.”
My heart constricts with the realization that Ford has always cared.
Even when he was giving me shit and aggravating the hell out of me.
Not to mention, chasing other guys away.
