Page 61 of Those Two Words

“JoJo needs a boyfriend. Can you do it?” she yells back and is met with silence. She looks at me, gives me a toothy smile, and resumes her playing. I have to pray Patrick didn’t hear her, or that something will smite me down where I sit.

“He can do it,” Lottie says, her sweet voice oozing with confidence.

Resuming our game, we play gymnastics, the vet’s office, supermarket, and school in the space of ten minutes.

“Pink,” she randomly declares.

“What’s pink?” I ask.

“My favorite color, silly. Pink. My birthday party is princess pink and we’re gonna have a tea party. There will be dinosaurs. I’m gonna wear a sparkly crown and so is Daddy and Uncle Boo and Uncle Gray and Uncle Dex.” She looks up at me with such excitement and presses the palms of her hands against her cheeks, smushing her lips together. “Can you come? Pleeeeeease.”

“You don’t want me there,” I say, but my heart is already melting into a puddle at how sweet the gesture is.

“You’re my friend.” Her bottom lip juts out, and yup, I’m going to cry.

“That’s so sweet. Thank you, Lottie. How about we ask your daddy first?” I can’t exactly say no now; I’m not a monster.

“Ask me what?”

Patrick’s sudden appearance has us jumping. I didn’t even hear him walk in, and when I turn to look at him, he’s leaning up against the door frame and wiping his hands on a rag. He’s still in the white T-shirt and worn jeans he greeted me in, though they’re a little dirty and wet now, making the look even sexier. His T-shirt is almost transparent from how soaked it is, the outline of his abs and nipples visible through the thin material.

It reminds me that although I was practically naked while draped over the pool table the other night, he remained fully clothed. There’s something so filthy about that, and it has me desperate to see him stripped bare.

I take him in as he concentrates on wiping his hands and arms. I have no idea how he stays in such amazing shape, however it’s clear from the way his clothes hug him that he finds the time.

It’s unfair how well he’s aged. He said I’d aged like a fine wine the other day. If that’s true, then he’s aging like a smooth and rich whiskey. One that I would welcome the burn from drinking him down.

I’m so absorbed in watching drops of water run down his arms, that it takes me a second to notice he’s looking at me with a smirk on his face. Busted. My cheeks heat as I scramble to tidy up the mess of dolls.

Chuckling lightly at my discomfort, he walks over to the sofa and sits behind Lottie and gives one of her braids a light tug. Memories of the night on his bed a few weeks ago flash in my head, when he handled me with such care after my panic attack. My heart warms at the knowledge that he has taught himself to braid hair and doesn’t leave the task to Carrie or his mom.

“What did you shout before, Lottie?” he asks.

I’m hoping Lottie sees the silent pleading in my eyes to not repeat herself.

“I said, can you be JoJo’s boyfriend?”

Patrick freezes at her words, and now he’s the one to blush. He looks at me sheepishly, and I shrug as if to say Kids, hey, when really, I’m drowning in mortification.

His lack of reply doesn’t faze Lottie, who just moves on to the next question. “Can JoJo come to my party? She said to ask you first.”

“Do you think she’d like it? YoYo, do you like tea and dinosaurs?”

“It’s JoJo, Daddy!” Lottie corrects him with an eye roll.

Patrick’s gaze fixes on mine, like he’s searching for something, though I’m not sure what. I turn to Lottie, giving her a big smile. “I’d love to come. Which princess should I be?”

I have no idea what coming to his daughter’s birthday party means for us, but it feels like a step in a positive direction.

“Rapunzel! And Daddy can save you from the tower and the dragons.” She lets out a roar and jumps up to tackle Patrick on the sofa. He catches her with ease and lifts her in the air, peppering her face with kisses until there are tears in her eyes from her laughter. You’d have to be heartless not to get all warm and fuzzy when watching these two. The way Patrick lights up around her is exactly the love a daughter deserves. It’s the type of love my dad shows Harriet and me.

Patrick playing plumber is hot. Patrick being a girl dad short-circuits my brain. I’m pretty sure my ovaries are glowing right now. He’s an amazing father, so patient, caring, and loving.

A small part of me thinks he might not have this had I stayed. If life is all about silver linings, then this is the glossy strip to our years apart. It will always hurt, but seeing what he gained while I was finding my own way back to myself makes the pain a little more manageable.

I like to think I also gained something. I got to know my mind and body better, to understand my limits, and how to love myself exactly as I am. Had I stayed here, I doubt I would have gotten the help I needed or been truly honest with myself about what was going on, and I’m proud of how far I’ve come.

From the love pouring out of Patrick, he stayed exactly where he needed to be.

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