Page 116 of Hero for the Holidays

Lila giggled.

Fia rolled her eyes and sat down at the table.

“You’re incorrigible, Landry King.”

“That is so much nicer than what you usually call me.”

“I suppose it is.”

He put his elbows on the table and smiled at her.

And that was when it cracked on through.

It was like she was looking at an alternative reality. At another life. One that she could have had. One that she didn’t have.

Not really. One where they’d had Lila all these thirteen years. Where she and Landry had gotten married back then. And decided they loved each other.

That they could make it work no matter what.

It was painful. It was just so damned painful. The reality of all of this.

Of the fact that Lila had been hurt. Hurt by the choice that Fia had made when she had been trying to spare her any pain.

She had ended up in foster care.

Maybe they should have just stayed together. Maybe they should’ve weathered it. Maybe making her love those people who had been her parents had actually been a cruelty because they were only with her for such a short time.

Maybe the trauma that Lila felt from that would’ve paled in comparison to the trauma that Fia would have dumped on her as a teenage mother.

She held it together. She sat there at the table and she pretended to eat. Landry and Lila didn’t notice, since they were still busy entertaining Sunday and making jokes while they ate.

“We should introduce Sunday to Gort,” said Lila.

“Now,” said Landry, “I think that might cause some issues.”

“Why?”

“You don’t want Gort to eat Sunday.”

Lila found that hysterically funny.

“He’s a predator,” she said sagely. “It’s the circle of life.”

Fia quietly slipped from the table and went over to the sink. She started doing dishes. And then...stopped.

She walked quietly to the front door and slipped out to the front porch. Then she leaned against the wall of the farmhouse and let her tears begin to fall.

And let herself grieve. Deeply. Properly. For the beauty of this life. For what might’ve been. For what she could never know.

For the good in the lost years. And the loss in those same years. For the certainty that she could never actually claim.

For everything. Everything and anything, all at once.

And a moment later, she heard the door close. And strong arms came around her. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Landry...”

“Did I make you cry again?”

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