Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I laugh bitterly.
“Believe it or not, I can do more than chase kids and bark orders.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just—it’s a lot to take in. I had no idea, Holden. It must’ve been hell.”
“Without your gramps, it would’ve been,” I say. “Leonidas was too generous by half, giving me paid family leave for a woman who took off without giving me the time of day. He hired two other guys to fill in while I couldn’t. Didn’t expect him to take me back when it was said and done, but he did, and— Oh, no, Clee. No tears over this.”
I reach over, wiping her eyes as she smiles.
“Gramps was such a good man.” She pushes my hand off gently. “Does Kit know?”
“Some of it. She knows enough. Someday when she’s older, we’ll sit down and talk. Until then—” I lift a shoulder. “It’s hard figuring out what you should tell your kid about her deadbeat mom. I never got a chance to be angry at Charli while she was still alive. In her state, there was no point. I never confronted her. I guess that’s what makes it harder in the end. No closure.”
“Oh, yeah.” Cleo exhales. “I’d be livid, too. Actually, I know a thing or two about how it must’ve been for Kit.”
I wait for more, staring at her gently as she swallows.
“My mom died when I was little. This heart defect she was born with, it never affected her much, I guess, until one day…” She sighs. “It was so fast and I was so young. I don’t remember much, honestly. Just this smiling, pretty young woman who used to sing to me suddenly stuck in bed and sleeping a lot. And Mom, she’d still smile every time I came in the room, and I didn’t get why Dad looked worse every time.”
“It’s awful, even if kids are too young to truly get it,” I whisper.
She nods limply.
“Yeah. It was worse for Dad than it was for me. He always drank and partied too much, but when I think back, he went deeper in the hole after she was gone. It broke something deep inside him.” She looks at me knowingly, a shaky smile pulling at her lips. “Her dying sapped the light out of him. After that, his art, his life, was more like going through the motions until he could get to the next bottle to take the edge off. It’s like he needed it to dull the pain, and nothing else was ever good enough. Not even me.”
No. No, woman, I won’t fucking hear it.
“Stop.” I take her hand fiercely, dragging it to my lips and kissing her delicate fingers.
“I really should. If it wasn’t obvious why I have so many daddy issues before… there you go.” She laughs bitterly.
“Shut it, Nile. I don’t see ‘issues.’ If I wanted that, I could find them with a hundred other women. If anything about your past, about who you are, freaked me out, we wouldn’t be doing this right now. I don’t see daddy issues. I see a smokeshow with history.”
“Oh my God!” She swats at me, shaking her head quickly even though she’s grinning now. “You’re sure you’ve been off the market? Could’ve fooled me. You’re good at telling a girl exactly what she wants to hear.”
“Like hell. I’m bad at talking. That’s why I don’t date much these days or do much of… this.” I gesture at her body, drawn out so beautifully in front of me.
Is it so terrible that I’m beginning to regret being a hermit dad?
She goes quiet, staring at her hand still twisted in mine.
I hate the silence, the way I can’t read it. I almost ask her to talk so we’re not suffering alone with our thoughts or the ugly secrets we’ve just spilled like a pact sealed in blood.
But then she looks up at me, her eyes lidded.
“This,” she whispers. “Girls like Charli. Like me. The ones who have a screw or two loose.”
“Fuck no.” My head snaps up. I gently grab her chin. “Woman, you’re nothing like her. Don’t think your moral compass will ever be broken enough to make you walk out on your own kid.”
“But my art—”
“It’s a part of you, your passion. Charli, she wanted music because she wanted fame. Not art for art’s sake. She wanted to be the next big pop star, another Milah Holly, some small-town Maine girl making it big and launching into a new life. But you, you’re fired up in a different way. You’re still grounded. You haven’t lost your heart. Nothing that happened with your parents took it away from you.”
“How do you know?” She blinks at me slowly, her brows knit together.
“Because I see you right now, eyes wide open. You’re fighting for Leonidas’ legacy. Trying to do what’s right with that egg, treating the reward like an afterthought.” I soften my grip on her chin.