Page 92 of Doughn't Let Me Go

“We didn’t kiss, Kyrie, but you’re right about one thing.” Dory ruffles her hair with a sad smile. “I do love you.”

My daughter smiles up at her, and the anger starts to fade.

I don’t need my ex.

I just need this.

“Oh!” Kyrie bonks her forehead, ever the drama queen, and hops off her step stool. “I gotta make you a card! Can you finish breakfast?”

Dory laughs. “Sure.”

“There are eggshells in the bowl!” Kyrie tells her and then sprints from the room.

I stare after her, the little bombshell—and eggshell—dropper.

Dory exhales heavily. “Holy shit that was intense.”

“Tell me about it.”

She peers down into the bowl Kyrie abandoned. “She wasn’t kidding about the eggshells either. There’s practically a whole egg in here.”

She dumps the contents of the bowl into the trash, deciding it’s easier to start over than try to salvage them.

“Thank you for picking her up this morning.”

“It’s no problem. Kind of in my job description.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell you I appreciate it.”

She shrugs. “It was no big deal. Really.”

“Well, I still appreciate it. Really.”

She gives me a look, like she wants to tell me to stop thanking her but thinks better of it.

“Thankyou, Porter.”

I wonder for a moment if she’s thanking me for last night, for putting her to bed and not taking advantage of her. If that’s the case, I’ll be really fucking annoyed, because I shouldn’t be thanked for being a decent human.

I tilt my head. “For what?”

“For my mug,” she says shyly. “It was a sweet surprise this morning.”

Last night, after I put her to bed, I snuck into the kitchen and put the mug I ordered for her in the cabinet front and center so she’d see it first thing this morning.

Her eyes dart to where it sits amidst the mess on the counter. I searched and searched online for something that screamed Dory and finally found just the right thing.

“I run on coffee and Led Zeppelin.” She pinches the shirt she’s wearing. “It’s very fitting for me.”

I laugh. “Please tell me you changed into thatafteryou saw your mug.”

“Nope. Just happened that way. But, to be fair, it’s one of my favorite shirts, so the likelihood of this happening was pretty high.” She gives me a bashful grin. “Thank you again, Porter.”

“You’re welcome,Dory.”

I wink, and her smile widens, her attention falling to the task at hand.

Rising from my stool, I open my mouth to offer to help, and she shakes her head like she knew it was coming.

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