Page 73 of Single Chance

“You had a hell of a morning between throwing up your guts and then the Sam stuff.”

“We both did,” she said.

We were nearly finished with our food when I heard the garage door going up.

“She’s home,” I said.

“Deep breath. You got this.”

The door to the house opened, then shut, and Sam appeared on the other side of the kitchen.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Hi, Sam,” Rowan said.

“Hey,” my daughter said begrudgingly. She paused with her hand on the knob of the basement door, coat still on, backpack over one shoulder.

“There’s plenty of soup. Would you like some?” I asked.

“I ate at Kinsley’s.”

I set down my spoon, giving my daughter my full attention. “Do you want to sit and talk?”

“There’s not really anything more to talk about, is there?” There was a thread of hurt in her voice.

“There’s whatever you want to talk about.”

Sam shrugged. “I’ve got homework to do.”

“Okay. First, I’ve got something to say. I understand this is hard for you. I don’t know how our lives will look in a few months, but you’re very much at the heart of the decisions I make. I love you, Sam, and I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

Her eyes looked watery as she nodded. She didn’t say a word, but I didn’t detect anger like this morning. This was more sad, confused, concerned.

No anger seemed like a step in the right direction.

“Can I go now?” she asked tiredly.

“Yes. Good night, Sammy.”

My daughter headed downstairs without another word. My chest ached for all the hurt I was causing her.

I stood and picked up my plate and bowl. Rowan did the same.

“That went better than this morning,” she said quietly.

My jaw was clenched hard, so I merely nodded once as I carried everything to the kitchen and set it down. I braced my arms on the counter, hating that my daughter was hurting yet again. Hating even more that I was the cause of it.

“Chance.”

Rowan tugged at my arm and pulled me toward her. She wrapped her arms around me, our bodies flush, her sweet scent enveloping me. Softening my frustration. Calming me.

I hugged her back, holding her close. I closed my eyes and breathed her in.

“Thank you,” I whispered into her hair.

“She might beyourdaughter, but I’m in this with you. Whatever you need. Whatever she needs. Whatever she’ll let me do.”

My chest lightened with gratitude, and my throat felt clogged with emotions, so I merely nodded and pulled her closer.

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