Page 36 of Lost Girl

I’m going to have to try, though.

Easing back on a whine, I give a firm shake of my head and watch the optimistic light fizzle out from her eyes.

"Y-you can't help me anymore?" Forlorn. Deflated. Helpless. That's the best way I can describe what she sounds like.

And it fucking kills me.

Knowing I can't be too loud, I yelp softly in protest and nod.

"So you can help?" she asks, the smallest flame of hope reigniting.

Another nod.

"But not tonight?"

"Standing out there for so long didn't clue you in?” a voice resounds from outside, cutting off my response. “She doesn't want to see you."

Wendy and I exchange a look, a knowing one at that, but remain silent. It's Tinksley.

Who she's talking to, well, you'll see...

"But I need to. I need to explain myself, need to apologize. What happened with Clara—it's the biggest mistake of my entire life. I'll regret it until the day I die."

Ah, yes. Phillipe.

Fae Lord, husband, father.

Cheater.

"Yeah, no kidding. I'd regret it, too,” Tinksley scoffs.

"I'm entirely serious, my darling. It weighs heavier on my mind than either you or your mother can understand. Please, you have to let me see her. I need to make this right."

"Do not. Touch me," Tinksley snaps, the grass crunching beneath her feet. "I'm not your darling, your baby girl, nothing—and you are absolutely out of your mind if you think I'm going to force her into seeing you. If you loved her as much as you claim, you never would've done what you did."

"It was a mistake, I swear it! Your mother and I got into a fight that night. My men and I crossed the portal, got a little too drunk—"

"Save it. I already know the story and it does nothing to excuse your appalling behavior. If anything, it proves you're like most men out there, mortal or otherwise; a little alcohol and you have less control over your dicks than you do sober. Fucking pathetic." The ice in her tone slices even through me.

Wendy cringes, too.

"Tinksley, " Phillipe grates.

"Don't Tinksley me. I'm not a child.”

"I know that, and as a woman who's in love, you're no stranger to following the heart.Please,let me see her. I need to make this right. I love your mother more than I could ever possibly explain to you."

"Not in this lifetime or any other," Tinksley grits malevolently. "You screwed up, royally,my Lord.That said, I’m not running in circles with you all night. This conversation is over. Please see yourself out."

"But—"

"But nothing. Get out, dearest father. Your presence is unwelcome on all accounts, mine included. No one cares to hear your perfectly fabricated sob story."

"It's not a sob story! It's the goddamn truth!" His counter rattles the air.

"And yet, I find that hard to believe when you couldn't tell the truth in the first place.Get out."

"Tinksley, please, you have to believe me! I never intended for you to—"