Page 129 of Until I Have You

“Yes, love, she could,” I answer honestly, stroking my hand down her side.

“So, why hasn’t she?”she whimpers.

I duck my head down to look at Bonnie closer.She’s got tears streaking her face.“Have you been crying, Bonnie?”

She pushes her face into the puffin.“No.”

“Yes, you have.”My concern ramps up.“Why are you trying to hide that you’re crying from me?”

Bonnie squeezes the puffin tighter.“Because you like it when I’m happy.”

“I like you all the time, Bonbon.”My heart pounds in my throat.“What makes you think–when did I–”

She doesn’t respond, her little body shaking.

To be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her break down.I thought that meant she was happy…that she wasresilient.

Slowly, reality overwhelms my brain.Has my little girl been pretending that every smile is genuine?That her happiness comes naturally?All to keepmehappy?Oh, that won’t do.That won’t do at all.

“Bonnie, my love…” I rub her back, tears pricking my own eyes.“You never have to be any way for me to like you.I like you all the time.When you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re mad.”

“I’mmad!”she wails into her stuffed animal.“And sad!And angry and confused and I feel everything at once.”

I nod, though I don’t really understand.I’m just receiving as best I can.

“Why did she leave?What did I do?”

“Nothing, Bon, nothing.”

Bonnie pauses.“I thought she liked me.”

“She loved you, Bon.Loves you.”God, Abigail loved her.I know she did.“But I’m here.I love you too.”

“I want more love,” she cries.

That’s it.I’m not enough.And how can I fault her for that?She’s a child, she deserves as much love as possible, and I’ve taken every outlet for love she could have bit by bit until it’s just us on this island.An island where she has to pay attention to my needs and her own.

That’s no way for a child to live.

We go back and forth for a bit until Bonnie’s tears have abated and her questions about Abigail are mollified, however temporary that might be.I don’t leave her side until she’s asleep, though.I make sure she’s not going to lay here, tossing and turning thanks to my cocked-up parenting.

I run my hand through her hair over and over again until her muscles stop clenching, and her breath slows and deepens.

Now, it’s my turn.

I tiptoe into the hallway, make sure the door is shut behind her, and then I fall to my knees, my head in my hands.

I have not cried like this in years.Not since the world closed in around me and darkness threatened to take me for good.Breaking down reminds me I’m alive.It means I haven’t given up.

But this…my daughter’s misery, my own misery, the loneliness.

It’s all my fault.Because I was the one who put the wall around my relationship with Abigail.I told her we could only be together as long as she was in New York andgot greedy.I wanted her for longer.

I wanted her forever.

And I got up to my old tricks, my old underhanded ways to try and make things work in my favor.

That doesn’t work with Abigail.That’s what pushed her from me in the first place.But I did it anyway.Trying to preserve what I wanted.Out of selfishness.

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