Page 89 of The Fake Husband Play
Even if he decides my alter ego and the lies I’ve told make it impossible for us to move forward together, I will always love him for being the kind of father my little girl needs.
Even if it was just for a little while.
Not ten minutes in, Mimi’s asleep again, one hand curled tight around Miss Sparklehorn’s neck, the other around Texas the Tiger, with the ghost of tiger balm and her cherry shampoo mingling in the air.
Back in the kitchen, Makena’s tidying up the hot toddy ingredients and the saucepan.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb Mimi so soon after she’s drifted off. “You spend all day cleaning up kitchens. You should have let me do it.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she says, with a small smile. “I find it soothing.”
After the bottles are tucked away, I walk her to the door, where she hugs me tight, as usual. But she holds on a second longer at the end, whispering into my hair, “I get it. Why you’re so scared to tell him.”
I pull back, gazing down at her. “Yeah?”
She nods seriously. “Yeah. That kind of good? The kind where he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of come to life? That would be scary as hell to lose.”
There’s a quiver in her voice that makes me wonder if this is about more than me and Grammercy.
I know there was a guy in Makena’s past, before her asshole ex-husband, but I don’t know his name. She just calls him “Mr. Perfect,” the boy from culinary school, who was her dream guy. Except the part where he showed up when she was only nineteen and not ready to promise anyone forever, not even Mr. Perfect.
She doesn’t mention him much, but when she does, there’s a grief lingering beneath the words that’s not there when she talks about her ex-husband or former boyfriends.
“Don’t rush it,” she adds, her eyes shining. “Keep loving him and trusting that love is enough. The truth will come out when it’s time, and I, for one, think you two will get through it just fine.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Love you, friend.”
“Love you, too,” she says.
Before I can ask if she needs to talk, she’s slipping through the door, already halfway to the elevator before I can think of something to say.
Making a mental note to follow up with her later, I lock up, turn off the light, and head to bed, where I lie awake for a long time thinking about the man I love.
The man who gives my baby another adult to love.
The man who loves my daughter with an uncomplicated purity that’s a testimony to the rare kind of man he is.
Grammercy Graves isn’t just one in a million.
He’s one in a billion.
And maybe that’s what terrifies me most. If this love slips through my fingers, I can’t imagine ever loving another man with anything close to the devotion that pulses through me every time I see his face.
No other man will ever deserve my love like this. No other man could melt me with a single kiss.
No other man will ever feel like family, not the way he does.
The knowledge sits heavy in my chest, assuring me that following Makena’s logical, practical advice is impossible.
I have to tell him.
Soon.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
MAKENA
