Page 50 of Single Dad Christmas

He stared at her.

“I should be there for her.” Taylor wrapped her arms around her waist and sobbed. He stared at her, frowning, not understanding.

“Louisa?”

She glared at him witheringly. “For Mom.”

“What do you mean?”

“Iknow, Dad,” she ground out. “I know about rehab. I know about the car accident. I know about her addiction. How long did you think you could lie to me about it?”

He stared at her, as the bottom slipped out of his world. “How?”

“How? How? That’s what you care about?”

He stared back, with no answers. He had been so angry, but now he felt totally on the back foot. “How?” he asked again.

“Instagram,” she muttered.

“You don’t have Instagram.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, but Melanie does, and Becca does, and Halley does.”

He closed his eyes and felt everything tipping away from him. “I see. How long have you known?”

“Months.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Oh, Tay,” he said with a shake of his head, as his daughter’s awful, awful behaviour suddenly started to make sense. “I wish you’d come to me about this.”

“Why? You didn’t show me the courtesy of honesty, so why would you expect it in return?”

He grimaced, because she had a point. “I didn’t want you—your mom—,” he dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know if you would understand.”

“I’m fifteen,” she said again, tapping the side of her head in a gesture of frustration. “When are you going to realise that?”

He shook his head. He was messing everything up. He felt woefully ill-equipped as a father. He felt like a failure in every sense of the word.

“I just kept hoping she’d get better, and everything would be fine.”

Taylor sniffed. And then sobbed. His heart broke, and he recognized that no matter what, this was his daughter and he loved her, and he had to be right here, with her. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into a bear hug, and she didn’t fight him. She didn’t resist. She pressed her cheek to his chest and sobbed. They stayed like that a long time, him holding her, knowing that nothing mattered quite so much as making sure Taylor was okay. He’d made that promise to her the day she was born, and he never intended to break it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly, stroking her hair. “I should have had this conversation with you a long time ago.”

“Yeah,” she sniffled. She pulled away from him, just enough so she could look up into his face. “At the party…”

He stiffened imperceptibly. “Yes?”

“I remembered,” she whispered. “I remembered Mom taking me to a party. The smell—the booze, the smoke. It was all so familiar. And I remember being so scared. I was only little,maybe eight or nine. I hid in the kitchen, and then you came, and you scooped me up and took me away, and I was safe. I’d forgotten, until that night. I’d forgotten how often she’d…”

“Yes,” he said.

“And all of a sudden, you were spending all this time away from me, and you were so happy, and I just…I didn’t want to lose you, Dad. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Oh, honey. You’re never going to lose me,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. “I will rescue you from any party, anything, any time. You have my word.”

“What about Mom?” she looked up at him, her eyes earnest. “How can we help her get better?”

“I’m doing my best. She’s in a great facility, so maybe this time…”

---