Page 66 of Big Daddy

“How long?”

Winnie blinks, full lips parted in silence. Tears run freely as she answers, “Four months.”

Brielle’s shoulders give just slightly, and it’s a minor physical adjustment, but enough for me to know she will forgive her best friend. Maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, but she will. Her heart, her compassion, her understanding—she’s the best thing I’ve ever done and she will show grace where I did not. I know it.

“How?” she asks Winnie.

Winnie straightens, sitting up taller, likely prepared for Brielle’s inquisition. The hostess returns, leading Aug and Lance to a table. With a dark chignon shiny under the dim lights, the young woman splits a look between the three of us. “Let me know when you’re all ready and I’ll take you to the table.” My daughter smiles before focusing on Winnie. All of them ignore me, and I can’t help but feel like I deserve it.

“I was at your apartment one day while you were at work. Honestly, I can’t even remember why I was there. Probably eating your food or something,” Winnie admits, all while I chew the inside of my mouth to prevent myself from announcing exactly what she was wearing, how she had a stray tendril of hairacross her forehead, how her hips made her sweats look edible, what was on the TV, and what she was eating. I remember every detail. “Anyway,” she continues, tears still glistening along her cheeks. “I was having a moment when he came in. And the door was unlocked so he walked right in on me.”

“A moment?” My daughter questions, clearly assuming that the moment Winnie was having was… salacious. Then again, Winnie has only shared herFeetFansaccount with me. Brielle doesn’t know. “What the f?—”

Winnie stops that train of thought immediately. “No, not like that. I was… crying,” she says softly, looking down at her clasped hands. My daughter’s angry and rigid demeanor softens some.

“Why were you crying?”

“Oh,” Winnie waves Brielle off, like her emotional breakdown is of zero importance. “It’s not important.”

“I’ve only seen you cry once, Win,” my daughter says, her concerned eyes flashing my way for the first time in the conversation. “Why were you crying?”

“I’d just been… down. And, I don’t know, you were loving Crave and finding a stride with Aug and Lance and I just… selfishly felt so left behind. And I was—I am—happy for you. But I don’t know, I also felt sad for myself. No parents, no job, no mentorship, no apartment of my own—just debt and work and a good attitude. But it’s a mask, you know? My positivity is just a mask I wear and I rarely take it off. But that day in your apartment, I needed to take it off, B. You know?”

The space between us falls quiet, despite the clatter of plates of the quiet roar of chatter and laughter. Winnie was depressed, and when she lays it all out that way, knowing how she assessed herself and her life makes my chest ache deeply and painfully.

Brielle nods. “I know.” She takes Winnie’s hand, and I have the strongest urge to do the same, but I don’t move, just listen. “But I didn’t know you were depressed.”

Winnie produces a small smile. “I’m on antidepressants now,” she admits. “He helped me with that, you know.”

Hairs along the back of my neck rise up as she tenderly credits me with her improved mental health. And yet, in the same moment, grief and guilt swarm me knowing I should have been that same support system for my daughter.

“You’re—you two are serious?” Brielle asks, her eyes moving to her lap as she processes. “He was who you were texting all those times,” she says slowly. Winnie nods confirmation as she cries.

“I’m sorry, B. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you. But…” She smiles sadly, quietly adding, “I love him.” She’s never said that to me. She feels it, I’ve felt her feeling it, so I know it’s true. And while it’s the first time I’m hearing it, I love her even more for not bothering to look my way. She keeps her attention on my daughter, and my chest aches at the notion.

Brielle looks up at me.

“Give us a minute sweetheart,” I tell Winnie. Winnie and Brielle rise, sharing a timid hug before Winnie pulls back and wipes her eyes, still staring into Brielle’s eyes.

“I’ll wait, B. I’ll wait and wait for you to accept me. Because I love you and I am so sorry I lied to you, but I’m not sorry for falling in love.” Awareness warms me. She really loves me. With that, she disappears into the pool of patrons, sifting through until she finds Augustus and Lance. I sit down next to Brielle and she sits down too, eyes still following Winnie.

“I’m proud of the contract you earned. Augustus and Lance told me all about it.” I don’t know where to start, but telling her I’m proud feels important. “I’m proud of you. I always have been. I should have said that more.”

“You hate that I make adult movies,” Brielle says.

“I won’t lie, it’s not what I envisioned for you. But I’m sure what you envisioned for me wasn’t Winnie,” I tell her, studyingher face, reminding me so much of her mother. Beautiful, hardworking, funny, gifted. She’s incredible, and instead of riding her hard to make her into a mini me to prove I could be a solo parent, I should have just loved her. That’s what parents are supposed to do. Love.

I scoop my daughter’s hand up with mine and place a kiss to her knuckles, knowing now I have so much to make up to her. “I’m sorry for it all, Brielle. I’m sorry for doubting you and fighting against what you told me in your own words. I’ve always wanted the best for you and I know, I know I haven’t always gone about it the right way. And I know I've brought up money too often and—” I pause, shaking my head at my own journey. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve tried, Brielle, but I’ve made mistakes. And one of those mistakes was how I treated you when you got serious about Crave and directing, and them, too, even.”

Brielle nods, giving me a trace of a smile. “I’m sorry for not answering your calls?—”

“Don’t be. You were right. I have done that to you over the years. That’s one of the many things I regret, how I handled myself when we disagreed or even just how I handled myself, period. But I’m working on that.”

“With her?” she asks, hurt lining the strength of her words. “Never mind. I appreciate everything you’ve said. And I don’t hate you or Winnie… but I need time.”

“I understand.”

“I wanted towantto break it off with her, because I felt so guilty. I didn’t want your friendship ruined. But I was spinning out, I couldn’t get a hold of you, and she told me about them—Augustus and Lance. And while I was angry and didn’t understand, I realized—neither of us planned these unconventional relationships. We only plan on falling in love, and sometimes it’s a lot different than we think once we finally have it.”

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