Page 61 of Snowy Secrets

For a moment, there's silence. Then his face hardens, disappointment and disbelief etched into his features. "Bella, this isn't the way to live. One mistake with River was bad enough, but now with two more men? It's insane."

Tears well up in my eyes. "You promised to try to be a better father, to accept me for who I am. This is who I am, and these men make me happy. I'm happy with them, Dad."

He shakes his head, his expression unyielding. "I can't do it, Bella. I can't accept this."

A sob escapes me, and I wipe at my eyes furiously. "You don't have to agree, but I thought you would at least try to understand."

My father stands, his posture rigid. "I can't stop you, Bella. You're an adult. You're free to do as you please, but I think you're making a terrible mistake."

My heart aches as I look at him, the man who raised me now a stranger in his judgment. "I'm going back to the cabin with the men and Ginny."

He doesn't say anything, just nods curtly. As I turn to leave, I pause at the door. "Dad…we want you to come to the cabin for Christmas. Please think about it."

I don't wait for his response, walking to my old room. Ginny is there, waiting for me. "Come on, honey," I tell her. "We're going."

28

BELLA

Ginny is delighted. She's sensed something is going on between the men and me, and being my kid, she wants to be involved. She looks up from the sketch she's making and gives me a ferocious little grin, baring all the teeth she has.

"Going where, Momma?" she asks, her eyes gleaming most suspiciously.

I want to laugh, but we need to have a long conversation. "With the men you saw earlier. Is that okay, sweetheart?"

She bobs her head up and down. "It is. Look, I drew them too."

I focus on the painting in her hand. It's her and a snowman with what looks like River holding her hand. Marcus and Wyatt are floating in the background like some kind of stick-figure guardian angels with spiky hair, beaming at the two of them. And there I am, standing in front of a house, waving my hands wildly as if I'm trying to conduct an orchestra. The whole scene is both heartwarming and hilariously chaotic, like a winter wonderland interpreted by a sugar-high toddler.

My heart just bursts. "Ginny."

A small hand reaches out to hold mine. I look down to see Ginny, her eyes wide with understanding. "He's my dad, isn't he?" she asks softly, her voice like green leaves in spring.

My heart constricts with guilt and sadness. "I'm sorry, darling," I confess, my voice thick with emotion. "I should have told you before."

She sets down the drawing she was working on, her tiny arms wrapping around my waist in a comforting embrace. "Don't cry, Momma. Up!"

Her word, the familiar code for me to pick her up, bring a bittersweet smile to my lips. I lift her into my arms, her face now level with mine. She gently kisses my cheek, her warmth radiating through me.

"You were Mama and Dada," she whispers, her eyes sparkling. "But it's nice to know him now."

My heart swells with a mixture of love and gratitude for this remarkable little girl, my light in the darkness. "He's lucky to have you," I whisper back, my voice choked with emotion.

I hold her close, savoring the warmth of her embrace, the weight of her trust and forgiveness a balm to my wounded soul. My daughter, my light, my whole heart.

"Can we pack now?" she finally squeaks, with the more understandable impatience of a kid.

"Of course." I laugh, kissing the top of her head before helping her get ready. Once we're done, we step out together. My mother is downstairs, standing by the door. "Bella, your father just told me the most unspeakable things," she says in a distressed voice. Then she looks at me, her eyes widening with surprise. "Are they true?"

My brows furrow as I glance at her and then at Ginny, silently asking her not to cause a scene in front of my kid. She understands, stiffens for a moment, and then sighs. "Are you content?"

Pressing my lips into a thin smile, I nod. "More than I can say in words, Mom."

Her face remains neutral, but I see the spark in her eyes. She empathizes, even if she can't fully understand. "Then go, and make sure Ginny is taken care of. I'll see what I can do here."

I pull her into a quick, tight hug. "Thanks, Mom."

She strokes my hair. "Take care of the both of you, sweetie. Don't give yourself any more pain."

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