Page 27 of Second Chance Baby

The minute Bridget climbed out at The Sherman Inn, promising to be quick, Carrington unclicked her seatbelt and leaned forward between the seats. “Are you okay with this, Dad?”

I could hear the indecision in her tone, as if she was worried I couldn’t handle hanging out with her mom this way. Of course, she had no idea how the rest of the day had gone, so no wonder she was unsure.

Or maybe somehow she’d figured out more than I was giving her credit for. She was a damn smart kid. And very empathetic to boot.

“I’m okay, Care Bear. Thanks for worrying about your old man. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to. Not with your mom.”

“Are you sure? I know things have been…hard there.”

To be honest, they’d been a lot harder than I’d ever owned up to, even to myself.

Not thinking about the situation more than I absolutely had to had been the only way I could tolerate how we’d left things between us.

Until I’d gotten drunk during Christian’s engagement party and my lips had loosened, leading me to confide in my mom.

Though immediately afterward, we’d both pretended the conversation had never happened. More me than her, truthfully. She still asked the occasional probing question I did my best to avoid answering.

Did you ever try making an overture to Bridget?

Overture like what?

Maybe say,Hey, I miss you, I want you back. Let’s fix whatever went wrong. I’ll do anything.

I’d waved that off, though the idea now had more merit. But the idea of having sex with her to build a bridge had never occurred to me.

Mainly because hey, wasn’t I the wronged party? Shouldn’t the onus to make an overture be on her side?

But she’d mentionedwantingto do the shoot. And besides, who cared who was more to blame?

I didn’t want to be alone any longer. End of story.

My daughter cleared her throat. “Daddy?”

“Yeah.” I blew out a breath. “It’s rough when things don’t work out with someone you love. That’s very hard. But we always tried our best to put you first.”

“You always did,” she said hurriedly.

“I know I worked a lot and missed out on some stuff I shouldn’t have. Like I didn’t make as much of a fuss about holidays as I should have. And now and then, I had to miss a school play or something?—”

“You were always here when I needed you.”

“Was I?” I asked uncertainly. “You can tell me the truth there. If you ever need to talk or have questions, you can always let me know. You know that, right?”

“I know, Dad. Trust me, I know.”

“Are you sure? Don’t hesitate to tell me if?—”

“Daddy, I know.” She strung out the words to about five more syllables than they actually had. “I was worried aboutyou.Not me. I’m good here. I have like four dads with Uncle Murphy and Uncle Christian and even Uncle Penn, though he doesn’t live here. Then I have Gams and Pop too. I’m not lacking on the parental score, trust me. Mom is just a fun bonus. I’ve missed her,” she added quietly.

“I have too,” I admitted.

“See, I knew it! You never go on dates or anything and you’re notthatold.”

I had to laugh. “Thanks, kid. I think.”

“I’m just saying. You barely even have friends to do stuff with. I’m, like, the center of your universe, and that’s not healthy.”

Jeez, was my mom encouraging my kid to look into therapy too? She was starting to sound far too wise.

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