Page 90 of The Perfect Mistake

Of where this might go; of the things Isabel will want that I can’t give. Of Connie finding out. I banish it all, together with the guilt, push it down and try to focus only on the present.

And as long as I can give her pleasure, as long as she wants this, it’ll have to be enough.

The treasure hunt is a success. Isabel stands to the side and declares in her calm, kind voice whether we’re “warm” or “cold” in our search.

Eventually, Willa’s the one who cracks the clues. The treasure was hidden by the fireplace, stashed behind the decorative logs. She and Sam dig it out while Isabel and I cheer them on.

Two small bags of candy, one for each.

Isabel gives me a small smile. “Sorry, I hadn’t planned on you joining, or I would have hidden three.”

“I have my own sweets,” I say. It comes out a bit hoarse, and she glances away. But not before I saw in her eyes that she took my meaning.

Fuck. I can’t say things like that.

I turn to my kids instead. “Hey, why don’t I grab you each a bowl, and you can eat your bounty while watching some cartoons before bed?”

The kids don’t need to be told twice. The normal evening chaos ensues, and I have to wrestle them into bed following their excitement. But it’s worth it, seeing the happiness on their faces. A family game and candy, on a normal Tuesday… I think Sam’s mind might be blown.

It takes longer than usual for Willa to settle down. I read her favorite book, and she follows along on the page, her eyelids growing heavier.

“I think,” she finally whispers, “that she’s not that bad.”

I stroke my daughter’s hair. “Isabel?”

“Mm-hmm. Maybe,” she adds in a mumble, ever reticent with her praise, and I smile down at her. She reminds me so much of myself. Some days so like Victoria in appearance, but in other ways, very similar to me. I hadn’t been the easiest for babysitters and nannies to deal with, either. I remember correcting them when I didn’t think they were good enough for Connie.

Willa’s breathing evens out, her face relaxing with sleep. I listen to her soft breaths for a minute longer before closing the book and heading out into the living room.

Isabel is curled up on the couch, the TV on low. Her legs are long, even when folded, and are clad in black leggings. The sweater she’s wearing dwarfs her frame. Her black hair is braided and hangs down over her shoulder.

Her eyes meet mine.

“Hey,” I say.

She smiles, a warm one that feels reserved only for me. “Hi.”

“I’m ready for my treasure hunt.”

Alec

Isabel’s eyes widen, and then she chuckles. I could listen to that sound all day. “You are?”

I sit down next to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. My free hand lands on her thigh, and the tension inside me immediately starts to drain out. Touching her is becoming a drug.

“Yes. Your idea today was brilliant.”

“I thought you’d be annoyed.”

“No. Why?”

“Sugar on a Tuesday, waste of valuable time…” She lowers her voice, makes it mockingly deep. “They should be building skills for the future, Isabel.”

I pinch her thigh. “Is that supposed to be me?”

She chuckles. “Yes. Maybe I should have been scowling to really nail it.”

“I don’t scowl.”

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