Page 21 of Big Deal Sweetheart

“I’m such a dumbass,” he said.

The squeak the of door to the suite opening drew his attention away from his own inner flagellations. For a second, he thought Nova might’ve come back, which was stupid of him to think. For one thing, it was daylight, and for another, hours had passed since she’d snuck out on him. He should’ve gone after her last night instead of allowing her to have walked home alone. Not that he blamed her after the way he’d left her lying in his bed following the most sublime experience of his life.

“Hey, dad. You look like crap.” Delilah, followed by her grandparents, entered the suite.

He was glad housekeeping had come in and cleaned up already. The last thing he needed Rachel’s parents to see when they entered, were the wine and whiskey glasses sitting around with the dregs of last night’s alcohol inside. Not that there was much liquor still in them.

“Love you too,” he said, smiling at his daughter’s little jab as he held his arms open for her. No matter how awful he felt, he would always love his little girl. She was his world.

“Hello, Keifer. Thank you for letting Delilah Jean come and stay with us last evening. We’d love to have her for more extended stays.”

Keifer heard the unsaid words,without you. “I’m glad you had a good time. What are your plans today?” There was no reason to reiterate that it was their last one before they leave tomorrow. If his daughter wanted, he’d let her come back and visit on her own.

He listened with half an ear as the trio talked and made plans.

“So, how long before you’re ready, Keifer? Or would you rather stay here and...rest?” His ex-mother-in-law asked.

Keifer narrowed his eyes, wondering if that was her subtle way of insinuating, she thought he was hung over or something. “It’ll take me ten minutes to shower and get ready. Why don’t you three hang out here while I do that?”

“If you’re sure?” Karla Dupont questioned.

He gave a nod, meeting James Dupont’s sorrowful stare. The man was always silent and without a backbone, the poor bastard.

“Delilah, did you want to get the presents we brought for them while I shower?” He didn’t have any desire to be present while Rachel’s parents looked over the things. He’d given his daughter carte blanche to go through her mother’s stuff and select what she thought her grandparents would like. Hell, he couldn’t give two shits if it all went in the trash, except he knew his daughter wanted some of it.

“Oh, you brought us gifts?” Karla’s eyes glittered with a brightness that might’ve been unshed tears.

“Yes, ma’am. They were things of Rachel’s we thought you might like. Go ahead and get them for your grandparents, Delilah. I’ll make it quick.” He brushed a kiss over his child’s head as he passed her, heading for the bedroom before the older couple could thank him.

Once in the shower, he hurried through his routine, ignoring his dick and thoughts of how good it had felt to sink inside Nova last night. When he came back out, the DuPont’s were sitting on the couch with Delilah, looking over the things they’d brought for them. He stood in the doorway and watched them for a moment, wondering how things might’ve been had Rachel still lived. The reality hit him that more than likely they wouldn’t have still been married because he wasn’t a forgiving man, and infidelity was something he wouldn’t have been able to forgive, let alone forget. She’d said that he worked too much and hadn’t given her the attention she’d needed, which was probably true. However, he didn’t believe that gave anyone the right to fuck around on the one they vowed to love for the rest of their lives regardless of her addiction. The first time he’d forgiven her because he’d felt like it had been his fault. The second time he’d taken her back because they’d had a baby. The third time he’d taken her back because she was dying. However, he knew they wouldn’t have stood the test of time. Rachel wasn’t cut out to be the type of woman he needed or wanted as a partner. He stared at her mother and saw nothing of the woman he’d been married to. His daughter may look like her mother, but she was beautiful on the inside and the outside, unlike Rachel who was for lack of better words, a narcissist. He actually didn’t blame her parents who were lovely people. Sometimes even the greatest parents wound up with kids who were bad eggs.

Mr. Dupont had his arm stretched across the back of the couch, his fingers twirling in his wife’s hair. He couldn’t imagine him ever straying into another woman’s bed or Mrs. Dupont for that matter. In that moment, Karla looked over at James, a smile he’d never seen bloomed on her usually stern face. No, those two would never hop into another’s arms.

“Dad, they love their gifts,” Delilah exclaimed.

Keifer straightened from the doorframe, strolling into the room like he hadn’t been watching for the past couple of minutes. “That’s good. I can have them sent over to your house, if you’d like, then we can take you both out to brunch?” Surprisingly, they had a wonderful visit, making him change their plans.

Keifer and Delilah decided to stay and spend the next couple of days with Karla and James. The loss of their daughter was still a huge wound for them. He understood how they felt to an extent, being a father himself, even thinking of anything happening to Delilah could send him into full-on-panic mode. They blamed him for a lot of things, and again, he understood because they had to blame someone, and Rachel had frequently called her parents to vent. Although they’d known their daughter had issues long before meeting him, they’d thought he could fix her. It didn’t matter that their daughter would call and make up stories in order to weasel money out of them, blaming him for all her woes. Did he agree with her doing so? Hell no. One thing he did know was you couldn’t change the past and you sure as shit couldn’t predict the future. You live in the here and now, so he was prepared to make each and every day the best for his child as he could. If that meant allowing her to see and talk to her grandparents more often, then he’d do it. And if coming here, he ran into one Nova the runner, well, then he’d call that a happy coincidence.

After a week back in New York, he was in a sour mood. He’d promised his daughter he’d take her to New York Fashion week, which just happened to be Valentine’s weekend as well. He hadn’t done anything special on the day for lovers in years. Had actively avoided the day if he was being honest.

“Dad, you promised you’d take me to all the shows,” Delilah begged, her big blue eyes blinked up at him with her bottom lip out. She had both hands clasped under her chin, looking for all the world like she was truly sad.

“Are you seriously going to try that one on me?” He laughed at the picture she made.

“Is it working?” Her eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Not even in the slightest. But—”he held up his hand—“I did promise, and I always keep my promises. I have two front row seats to three shows this Saturday and one on Sunday.”

“Oh, my gawd. You’re the best dad, ever.” Delilah threw her arms around his shoulders.

He chuckled, wrapping her up in his embrace. In a few years, she’d be going off to school unless he could talk her into staying local. Selfish probably, but she was his baby and his life.

“I want you to remember that when you get in trouble next time.” He kissed the top of her head and let her go.

“How do you know I’m going to get into trouble? I’m an angel,” she said, raising her right hand, circling her head.

“What’s that?” he asked.

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