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She gasps. “That’s bad. Harper isn’t a complication.”
“You don’t gotta tell me.” I send a pointed stare at the one who keeps reminding me of my terrible choices. “What can I do to prove it?”
“Probably shouldn’t have said it to begin with,” Harper mutters.
“If only I could reverse the clock.”
Shit, the changes I’d make pile into a staggering heap. How different reality might be if I wiped out the huge mistake that lays a foundation for countless others. Or if I get a chance to correct it the old-fashioned way.
Sydney is busy watching Harper, but her gaze suddenly swerves onto me. The calculation swirling in those inherited baby blues has my heartbeat faltering. “Do you wanna have more kids, Daddy?”
“Uh, sure?” But only if a certain woman is interested in becoming a mommy.
“Harper wants to have babies. Like a whole bunch.” She pretends to cradle an entire brood in her skinny arms.
“That’s not exactly how the conversation went,” Harper croaks.
But my daughter isn’t listening. “Maybe I’ll help change the pee-pee diapers. No poops.”
It turns out planting a seed in her head won’t be necessary. “You practice with your dolls.”
“Uh-huh, and their butts are stinky.” She plugs her nose.
“Better get used to it if you plan on being a big sister.”
Her lips squish into a contemplative twist. “I need to ask Miss Joy where babies come from.”
“It’s magic.” The safe explanation rolls off my tongue with ease.
Syd rolls her eyes. “How old are you, Daddy?”
“Twenty-eight. We celebrated my birthday last month, remember?” The ache in my joints makes that number feel double.
Her eyes expand. “Have you found true love?”
Instinct and routine habit sends my focus to Harper. Her stare is already locked on me. Tension bloats the standard gap between us until the dense force urges me forward. I curl my fingers against the demand to pull her in.
The connection is severed when I peek down at Syd. “I have.”
My daughter squeaks. “Then why aren’t you married?”
“Our fairy tale is”—I almost say complicated, but bite my tongue—“a long story. I’m hoping we find our happy ending soon, but first I have to prove myself worthy of her.”
An unintelligible noise wheezes from Harper. My feet carry me three steps closer. If I stretch, our hands could touch.
Sydney coos. “That’s sooo romantic. You’re like Prince Charming.”
More like the dragon who deserves to be slayed, but I’m not going to burst her bubble. “I’m glad you’re rooting for me, Boop.”
That’s when my daughter glances between me and Harper, then at the minimal separation keeping us apart. She narrows her eyes. The lull that follows crackles with wishful thinking as she tries to eliminate the empty space entirely. I’m certain she can read the room better than most adults.
“I gotta go potty.” Syd starts prancing in a circle, legs tightly crossed.
“Right down the hall where you found the lipstick.” Harper points and moves to show her the way, but my little girl is already gone. “Well, someone is in a hurry.”
“She’s bad about waiting until the last minute.” And extremely good about giving us a few private moments alone.
“Afraid to miss any fun in her absence.”
