Page 78 of Hat Trick Holidate

Through the suffocating air, I ask my brother, “Can you help me? Help me be happy. I know I don’t deserve it but…”

Jolie runs into the room, holding her blue teddy bear by her fingers instead of clenching it tight to her body. I smile inside but can’t force one that shows. She’s making progress. As if she can feel my broken heart, she curls into my arms.

Sometimes you don’t need to talk. Sometimes you just need to feel.

Whether it’s happiness or sadness, feeling it is part of the process. That’s what Emmaline and Jolie have taught me.

Jolie understands that Emmaline isn’t here, andsomething isn’t quite right in the universe. She lifts her chin with tears in her eyes.

“Daddy?”

I love hearing her voice but hate the sadness laced through it.

“Is Emmaline coming back?”

She messaged me Thanksgiving night saying we need to lay low. She can’t end her brother’s career. Does that mean eventually we’ll be together?

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But no matter what, we’ll always be together.”

We deserve someone who will fight for us. A person who wants us more than anyone else.

The buzzer goes off, so I get up and push the button. “Mr. Wynward, there’s a woman here to see you.”

“Send her up,” I say excitedly and push the button. I grab Jolie into my arms and go out to the door to wait for Emmaline. I don’t know whether it’s a good or bad sign that she didn’t use her key card. Shit, it’s probably bad. She’s going to give it back and tell us goodbye. I squeeze Jolie tighter.

The elevator doors open and in an instant, I know it’s not her.

Francesca rushes forward, throwing her arms around us, sobbing. My free arm wraps around her back. Jolie looks at me but doesn’t hug her mom.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I wish it were Emmaline instead of Francesca. A rattle makes me open my eyes and when I do, Emmaline is standing rigid and frozen, watching another woman and the mother of my child crying in my arms.

“Emmaline,” I stammer. My heart pounds with a rush of emotions.

Jolie glances at her and yells her name. Francesca loosens her grip, and my arm falls from her back, but Emmaline turns and presses the button.

In four strides, my hand is on her arm. “Don’t go.”

“I have to. I can’t go through this again.” The door opens. She shoves herself into the corner, and the door closes. I let her go.

When I turn, Francesca’s tears have dried up, and a smirk covers her face.

Reluctantly, I invite Francesca inside to spend time with her daughter. While Jolie goes to the bathroom, I ask, “What’s going on?”

“Lukas asked for a divorce. His parents hate me and say I don’t have a motherly bone in my body.”

They’re not wrong.

“He could only get his fortune if we were married. Since they thought he had an heir, I was approved. They found out that Jolie wasn’t his when his cousin needed an organ and it unraveled. I had my tubes tied after Jolie, so they wanted me out of his life. He convinced them to let me spend time with them, and they weren’t impressed.”

I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, but you should have told me about Jolie when she was born.

“We could be a family,” Francesca suggests. Her voice is cool, lacking the emotion when peoplewantto be a family. ”I could move in.”

Jolie runs back into the room, shouting, “No. Emmaline’s going to live here. Right, Daddy?”

Jolie’s outbursts tonight make me think to ask Emmaline if it’s a stress response. Like she thinks she’ll have to move again and with people she doesn’t know.

I shake my head as I pick her up. “Jolie, give your mom a hug. And Francesca, that’s never going to happen. If you’re staying in town, then we can set up a schedule for you to see Jolie.”

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