Page 39 of Always You

“And you tworeallywere friends?” she asked Alex as if that was a shock. “The probably spoiled son of a multi-millionaire and the poor kid from way outside the burbs?”

“We were. We are. Still friends, I mean,” Alex said before I could answer.

She raised her eyebrows. “So, I saw.”

“We were just hugging,” I defended, even though the burst of emotion made me want to admit that I wanted to kiss Alex. She chuckled, and Alex blushed as he smiled.

“I’ll leave you to talk, and if anyone needs me, just press the button on the wall and I’ll come in. Otherwise, the room is yours.” Then, before I could stop him, he’d left. I wanted to call him back, but I wasn’t a coward. Harper took the conversational baton and chatted on about school and her boyfriend—Luke-the-basketball-player—and prom and Christmas and did I remember her cat, Fluffy, from when she was three, and that he was still alive and as grumpy as he was as a kitten.

I went with the flow—inserted words where I needed to, and we made drinks, raided the snack supplies, and then, curled up in opposite corners of the two-person sofa. Only then did she grow silent and watchful, and I could see her studying me, maybe for evidence of injuries or scars, and for how different I must look.

“I missed you, Dad.” Her voice was soft, but each word carried a weight that settled on my shoulders. It was a simple statement, but it resonated with years of distance and all the unspoken things between us. I should have tried harder to be present, to be home, to make my marriage to her mom work.

My mouth went dry, unable to form any words, as I grappled with the overwhelming emotions conveyed by her words and her raw expression. It was the first time I’d heard her call me Dad in a while. I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat.

“I missed you too, so much,” I whispered.

She hesitated before she continued, as if gathering courage. “So, you should know that Mom has a boyfriend.”

“Okay.”

“So, she’s not ready to see you, or… y’know… available.”

I blinked at her, not sure what she meant until, suddenly, I did.

“Your mom and I are no longer married. I’ll always love her for giving me you, but not in a way that means she has to come see me.”

I love someone else.

I need someone else.

“Anyway, Robbie is a good guy, even if he’s not you. He doesn’t try to be my replacement dad or anything.” Her words were careful and measured, as if she was trying not to hurt me, but needed me to understand her world—the world I had missed—had changed. She didn’t need to tell me.

I didn’t fit into anyone’s world now.

I nodded, taking in what she said. “I’m glad your mom found someone nice,” I said, and I meant it. Olivia deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with me. But Harper’s distinction—that he wasn’t me—stirred a mixture of regret and hope inside me. I regret not being there, for all the moments and everyday experiences I’d missed with Harper, and I hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was still a place for me in her life, a role I could fill that no one else could. Like her real dad, without taking away from her relationship with her mom’s new partner. She was still talking, and I focused back on her.

“Robbie’s different, you know? He’s kind, and he makes her smile, but there are things… I guess there are just things that make me wish you were there instead. Like when we watch old movies you used to talk about, or when I have school events…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze meeting mine again, searching.

My heart ached with her words, each one a reminder of what I had lost and what I still hoped to reclaim. “I’m here now, Harper. And I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I said and reached out a hand, which she took. “We’ve lost a lot of time, but I want to be part of your life however you want me to be.”

Harper nodded, a small smile breaking through her earlier solemnity. “I’d like that, Dad. I really would.”

The room felt warmer. She was part of a future I wanted, a chance to be the father she deserved, to be present in all the ways I hadn’t been before.

“I’ve missed a lot, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m here now and so proud of you—more than I can say.”

We grinned at each other, and then, she tugged her hand away, and her smile became a smirk.

“So, Dad,exactlyhow close were you to kissing Alex McHottie?”

Chapter Twenty

Alex

I satat a table in the garden, under a tree that had already shed its burden of snow, so it was safe to sit there. The air was crisp and cold, but I’d brought a thermos filled with coffee to keep me warm. Part of me lingered outside because I wanted to see Harper leave. I was the one who’d let Jazz’s ex-wife through the gate to park in our small parking lot, so I had a heads-up, and hell, Jazz might need me.

Right?

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