A cold chill ran through Jake. “Baby…tell what?” It took effort to keep his voice steady. “You can tell Daddy anything. No matter what, I’ll love you forever.”
“I saw Papa. With Uncle Andy.”
The relief made him dizzy, and he saw Terry put a hand to her heart and shake her head, while Shea slumped against the wall and rubbed his eyes. They’d all suspected the same thing, but thank fuck they were wrong.
Then it registered—Andy. The name of Brian’s soon-to-be husband. And Brian’s colleague, with whom he’d worked on several projects. Jake had never questioned Andy being around so often. How naïve of him to have trusted everything Brian told him.
“Uncle Andy? Did you see him a lot at home?”
His arm curved around Stacey, holding her in place, as he had when she was a baby and he’d rock her to sleep.
“Yeah. He came to see Papa lots. They’d take me to the park and for ice cream when Terry wasn’t there. Papa said he was his best friend. But I didn’t want him there so much. I wanted Papa.” Her lip quivered.
That bastard.
“Go on, honey.” He smoothed her waves, and her mouth drooped.
“I saw them kissing, but I never told. And one day, I-I-I had a bad dream and woke up from my nap scared. I wanted Papa, but he wasn’t anywhere. I heard noises in your room.” Her face took on a frightened look. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I know you said to always knock, but I couldn’t find him. I forgot.” Tears trickled from her eyes, and she sniffled and hiccupped. “I opened the door, an’ I…I saw…” She broke eye contact and whispered, “Uncle Andy saw me and pushed Papa away, but I got scared and ran to my room. Papa said they were only friends and not to tell. But later Uncle Andy…he…he was mad at me for coming into your room when I knew I wasn’t supposed to. He yelled at me.”
“He did?” His voice shook. “What did he say, baby?”
“He said if I said anything, I’d be a bad girl. I should never, ever say anything.” She sniffled. “So I didn’t. I didn’t mean to make Papa leave. I’m not a bad girl.”
Jake alternated between feeling sick and containing his rage. He’d never been a violent man, but if Brian and Andy had been standing before him, he’d gladly have beaten them unconscious and felt zero guilt.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, baby girl. You’re a wonderful, sweet, good girl, and I’m so glad you told me.” He held her tight.
There came a time when a person had to either continue to live in the past or cut it out of their life and move ahead. Jake was at that crossroads. For two years he’d held on to the memory of his lost marriage, believing it was something he’d done wrong that broke it apart. But staring into the innocence of his daughter’s eyes and hearing her halting recitation of her story, the veil was lifted from his eyes.
“And you stopped talking because you were afraid?”
She cast him an almost fearful glance and nodded. Jake bit back the curses trembling on his lips he wanted to let fly. That fucking selfish bastard said he didn’t want to be tied down to a child with special needs, when all along he’d been the one who’d caused her problem. And here Jake was, slogging through life, taking on the burden of Stacey’s problem as his own, thinking it was something he’d done wrong. And on top of everything, blaming himself for the failure of his marriage.
She added, “I didn’t want you to get mad at me.”
“You’re not afraid of me, right? You know I love you?”
She nodded. “But I don’t want you to go away too. I promise I’ll always be good.”
He kissed the top of her hair. “I’ll remember this when you’re sixteen.” She let out a huge yawn, and Jake couldn’t imagine the stress she’d endured from keeping this to herself for the past two years. “Do you feel better?”
“Yeah.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I’m tired.” She lay on his chest and was fast asleep right away. He waited another minute, then carried her off to bed. The dog padded after him and jumped up to the foot of the bed, circled once, and went to sleep.
Drained and exhausted, Jake dragged himself to Shea and Terry in the living room. “I’m in a fog, I think.”