understand, but what does he understand? I can’t make sense of my own actions yet. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I have a feeling I should stop now before it gets too complicated to untangle.
I hear the cackle of female voices when I return to the apartment after work. When I walk into the living room, I see Rachel, Blaire, and Anya dancing around in a circle holding hands. Anya is singing.
“Daddy!” she squeals when she sees me and comes running over to be picked up in my arms.
It has taken many months for her to get this excited to see me. After Nicola died, Anya had no interest in forming a deeper relationship with me. I have never pushed her. She will always be my most precious being but I don’t have to be hers. But lately, she has started opening up to me. She is more affectionate. I hold her in my arms and breathe in the scent of her now. I love this kid so much it hurts.
I look up to find Rachel and Blaire smiling at us.
“I was just leaving,” Blaire speaks up. “I only looked in because the door was open.”
“I invited Blaire. You don’t mind, do you, Daddy?” Anya asks while she hangs off my arms.
“No, of course not,” I say, smiling at her.
“But I should go anyway,” Blaire adds, blushing a little now.
I know our interaction from the other night has left her feeling more awkward than any of our previous arguments.
Rachel is already getting ready to leave.
“Do you have to go now?” Anya whines, sliding down my side so she can rush over to Blaire again.
“Yes, sweetie. You and your dad should catch up. I have a dinner to go to,” she replies, gently stroking Anya’s hair.
“A dinner date?” I ask. Rachel waves at us, and Anya waves back. I notice the way Blaire smiles at her too. The two women have clearly started becoming friends.
“It’s dinner with a friend,” Blaire replies, and I have to bite my words before I ask if the friend is male.
It doesn’t concern me. It shouldn’t bother me, but I want to know.
Anya slips her hand into Blaire’s.
“But you can have dinner with us,” she insists.
“That’s not how it works, baby. Blaire wants to have dinner with her friend,” I say as I loosen my tie.
Blaire’s eyes flit over me briefly before she looks away. Why won’t she look at me? Do I make her nervous all of a sudden? All of these months that we’ve been quarreling, I didn’t seem to make her nervous before.
The fact that she was in a meeting with my COO and friend today gives me a secret pleasure. She clearly doesn’t know.
“And just because I want to have dinner with my friend doesn’t mean I don’t want to ever have dinner with you,” she says, turning to Anya.
“You’ll have dinner with us tomorrow?” my daughter asks, smiling wide.
There’s a part of me that wishes Blaire would agree. I’m already fantasizing about what that dinner would look like. The three of us sitting around a dining table together.
“I don’t know about tomorrow, honey, but I’m sure we can make it happen sometime soon,” Blaire says, and I know she’s trying to avoid the commitment.
She has no interest in dining with us.
I follow Blaire out into the hallway as she leaves our apartment. I’ve managed to convince Anya to go to her room and get started with the dollhouse I promised to help her build.
“I hope you have a nice dinner!” I call out, and she stops and turns to me.
Blaire is wearing buttery-smooth navy trousers and a white silk shirt tucked in. She looks like a corporate killing machine. Her dark hair is slick and shiny as usual. Her wide forehead makes her blue eyes appear larger than they are. She’s wearing that same damned lip gloss again, and I can feel the stirring in my groin.
I want her so fuckin’ much.
“Is that really what you’ve followed me out here to say? Let’s be real, Trevor. You don’t really care how my dinner goes,” she says and hooks her hands on her hips.
“I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to feel guilty about spending some time with Anya if you want. You were apologizing for dropping in to see her; you don’t need to do that. I’m not a monster. I can see you guys get along, and that is fine by me.”