Page 176 of Delilah In Discretion

Killian

A Few Days Later

Sitting in my office, I sighed heavily as I buried myself in my paperwork. It’s been more than a week since Delilah and I had our argument, and ever since, Brielle kicked me out of our room... leaving me to fend for myself. She’s been ignoring me for quite some time now and only speaks to me when she deems it absolutely necessary to do so.

Has it been frustrating? Yes. Is it annoying and childish? Somewhat.

Did I deserve it?

I still couldn’t answer whether I truly deserved to be ignored by my wife or thrown away by my daughter. Did thatboydeserve my daughter? To put his hands on her? To act as if he owned her and mock me simultaneously?

Of course not... and it hurt. It hurt to feel rejected, unwanted, andhated,all for trying to protect her. It was killing me day in and day out, hearing those words echo in my mind along with the cries of both her, Ivory, Brielle... Blaine.

That idiot knew all along, and for the longest time, I knew he was hiding something, but that sly bastard kept his promise to them and never told me. I was slightly impressed by his capabilities, but looking at him in the corner eating a jar of Nutella with a spoon had me thinking otherwise.

“You know,” he began, and I sighed, running my hands down my face. “If you were understanding and had a bit of compassion, you wouldn’t have this problem. I wonder if we would have even met if you were emotional. Our dynamic wouldn’t work,” he muttered as if he was really thinking about the scenario.

I rolled my eyes at him as I continued my work, and eventually, he left to order something to eat, per usual.

I tried to ignore the picture of Delilah at her dance recital when she was eight or nine years old, which sat on my desk. Still, I found myself looking at it fondly, as she was so happy. And as joyous as this occasion was, Brielle constantly reminded me that the only reason she was this happy was that I was there.

Eleven Years Ago

Walking into the living room, I smiled as Delilah sat in themiddle of the floor going through her dance bag and costumes, as today was her Spring Recital. Her hair was curled beautifully, and her makeup was also done to perfection. Zachary sat in the corner, playing with one of her headbands, and Brielle came into view holding Ivory in her arms and slightly glared at me, causing my smile to falter. Here my daughter was... excited and happy—and I was about to ruin it.

“Delilah, sweetheart,” I muttered, and she beamed up at me happily.

“Daddy! Do you see how many costumes I have? Madam A put me in almost every dance! She even gave me a solo, too! Did Mom show you the program agenda?”

I nodded as my heart constricted.

“Delilah, sweetie… something’s come up,” I muttered, and she tilted her head to the side in confusion as I continued, “There’s a problem in one of my buildings in Chicago, and they need my help.”

“Will you need to leave after my performance? We can have dinner early if that would make it easier?” she asked, and I sighed.

I glanced over to Brielle, who was sitting with Zachary now and paid me no mind.She wasn’t going to give me a break on this either.

“The thing is, sweetheart. My plane leaves in about an hour or two.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, and I could see a small pout wanting to appear on her face.

“B-but then you’ll miss the show,” she whispered.

I sighed heavily. Brielle gave me the side-eye, and I crouched down to Delilah’s level.

“I know, sweetheart... I’m sorry. Daddy just has a lot of business to take care of. He’ll make it to the next one, hmm?” I said softly.

She looked away as she stood up slowly and nodded. I noticed a small tear escaped her eye, and she wiped it away quickly as she walked out of the living room and up to her room.

I stood and looked over to Brielle as she shrugged.

“I told you to reschedule, but it’s okay, I guess. Enjoy your flight,” she muttered.

I crossed my arms as I approached her. “You know this meeting is crucial.”

She nodded. “I know,” she said and left the room with the children, leaving me to feel more like shit than ever before.

Soon, it was time for Delilah to go to the theater to prepare, and I stood by the door of our home as she walked out with the remainder of her dance attire that needed to be put in the car. I made my way over to assist her, and she shook her head.

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