Nice Guys Don't Win (The Boys #2) - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,82
door to his office is closed when I approach, and I knock hesitantly.
“Yes?” He calls.
Wrapping my hand around the brushed nickel knob I twist it open.
His eyes fill with surprise when he looks up to find me in the doorway. He takes his reading glasses off, setting them on the desk. “Are you getting ready to leave?”
I shake my head and close the door behind me, taking a seat on the leather couch across from his desk. I gather my legs beneath me, looking around at the framed photos and plaques on the wall. I still when I see one of me as a little girl, by a pond that was near the house I grew up in.
His eyes find where mine are glued and he smiles. “Do you remember the summer you kept trying to catch a tadpole?”
“And you kept telling me it would die? That we can’t trap the things we love and admire, we have to leave them be and watch them grow?”
He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“But when I finally caught one you didn’t make me put it back.” My voice grows soft, brows furrowed. “And then it died in the bowl. Why didn’t you have me put it back like you wanted me to?”
He rubs his jaw. “It was a lesson you needed to learn.”
“Is that what you’ve done all these years with me? Leave me alone and watch me grow?”
He inhales a breath, blowing it out in a heavy gust. “I couldn’t force you to forgive me, or even love me, Zoey. That was your battle to fight. Even these dinners, I couldn’t force you to come, but I wanted you to. I always wanted you. Your mom and I … we were young when we got married. We loved each other, a part of me will always love her, but we weren’t meant to last forever. But just because we stopped working, doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving you.” He stares at me, willing the words to sink into my skull. “You’re my daughter. My pride and joy. I will never,” his voice cracks as he gets choked up and my own tears start to fall, “forget the day they placed you in my arms. You’ll understand it one day, when you have your own kids, but nothing else compares to holding that precious life that’s half of you. All you want for your child is the best, even if the best isn’t you.”
“Daddy,” my voice cracks. I wipe at my damp cheeks. “It was never you. I didn’t realize that at the time. I was so hurt by you leaving. You were my … everything.” I shrug, more tears falling. “I felt like you didn’t love me. You weren’t only leaving Mom. You left me too.” He opens his mouth to respond but a hold up a hand for him to wait. “I know that isn’t true now. Believe me, I see things so differently now that I’m older, but when I was thirteen it felt like you didn’t love me anymore, so I punished you for it, and myself too.” Leaning forward on the couch, I continue, “I want you to know I’ve moved past all of that. I just want to … start fresh. I want to be your daughter again.”
He stands, coming around the front of the couch and crouching in front of me. “Zoey, honey,” he takes my damp cheeks in his hands, “you never stopped being my daughter. You are and you always will be my daughter. There’s no beginning or end to it.”
I dive into his arms, hugging him tight. I sob into his shirt, dampening the fabric. He only squeezes me harder.
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I know.” I inhale a shaky breath. “I know. I love you, too. Please forgive me.”
“Hey.” He pushes me away slightly. “There’s nothing for me to forgive. I mean it. We’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He pulls me in again and lets me cry it all out.
When I finally leave his office, a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
“Hey.” Cole’s voice startles me in the dark hallway. “Are you okay?”
I rub at my swollen eyes. “I am now.” He’s rocking Rosie in his arms and dammit if my ovaries don’t do a somersault at the visual of him with a baby in his muscular arms.
Rein it in, I warn my ovaries. We don’t need any spawn yet, no matter how hot Cole