Page 17 of Curvy Wives of Willow Creek 5-8

"Dad, we have to go," she insists, "It's my first day at Willow Creek's school, and I can't be late."

Laughing lightly, I ruffle her hair, "I've never seen you this excited about school."

She frowns in an attempt to look angry, but her twinkling eyes give her away.

"It's my first day. I want to make lots of friends."

Her excitement is contagious, and I can't help but smile. I tell her she'll make many friends and they'll have a blast. I remind her that we're not in the city anymore, and she can play with them everywhere.

Her eyes shine with anticipation, and she's pulling at my sleeve again, desperate to experience this new world. But as I rise to leave, my heart weighs heavy in my chest.

Did I really make the right choice with Sophie? Did I rob my daughter of a potential mother figure, a woman who genuinely cared for her, just because I was scared of how things might end?

I don't know. I might be the adult, but I don't have all the answers. I just have a heart full of regrets, a mind swirling with questions, and a daughter who deserves all the happiness in the world.

As Lucy and I step outside into the morning sunshine, the small-town charm of Willow Creek already has Lucy bouncing with giddy excitement. Her youthful enthusiasm is infectious, and I can't help but smile, reveling in the light she brings into my world.

"You look happier here," I observe, her hand warm in mine.

Her eyes meet mine, brimming with wisdom beyond her seven years.

"You should try to be happy too, dad."

Her words catch me off guard, and I can only stare at her. I've always found solace in her presence.

"I am happy. You're with me. How can I not be?"

But Lucy isn't fooled, her gaze sharp and serious.

"Then why didn't Sophie come back?" she inquires, her words striking me like a dart to the heart. "You liked her, I could tell. And she was nice. But now we have a new nanny."

Caught in the simplicity of her perspective, I'm rendered speechless. How do I explain the complexities of love and fear to a seven-year-old?

Before I can even formulate an answer, Lucy continues, her words strikingly mature for her tender age.

"You need to meet people too, dad," she says, "You don't have to worry so much about me. I'm nearly eight. I can look after myself."

A smile tugs at my lips, my heart overflowing with pride. My hands tremble slightly, but I keep them hidden in my pockets. I've been blessed with a fantastic daughter.

We stop, and I kneel before her, wanting to see eye-to-eye with this extraordinary girl.

"Lucy," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "would it bother you if Sophie and I… if we tried to be… more?"

"Like boyfriend and girlfriend?" she clarifies, an impish grin spreading across her face.

"Yeah, like that," I admit, "but I can't promise it'll last forever."

Her response comes in the form of a punch to my shoulder, playful yet firm.

"You're always telling me to try new things and be brave, dad," she admonishes, "Now you're the scared one. Stop making Sophie wait!"

My heart swells at her words, a laugh bubbling from my lips. I stand, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Alright, my love. I'll do it. I'll call Sophie. I'll tell her how I feel."

"And tell her I want her in my life too!" Lucy adds, her voice filled with hope.

I lean down, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

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