Page 117 of Cara
My loss in Madrid happened.
Since returning, the icy casing in my chest has thawed, leaving me painfully exposed. Vulnerable. Pleading for the love I’ve been denied all these years.
I have no idea when Dante leaves me.
I'm only aware of his absence when I fix the upturned corner of the blanket and notice a little girl stepping out onto the terrace from within the house, clutching her father’s leg. She’s dolled up in a pink frilly dress, something my mother would have insisted I wear as a child. Her red hair is slicked down and pinned to her head, held in place by a bow.
I'm still in the dirt, staring at them as Xavier helps her off the last step. Crossing the lawn, his gaze shifts from me rising awkwardly to my feet, to the white dress I would have never chosen on any other day, to the lavish breakfast I’ve laid out for us.
When she excitedly squeals at the sight, I can't help but smile wider and wider, unable to control it.
“Look, Daddy!”
“Wow,” he exclaims, gasping in a way that feels different from his usual demeanor, accompanied by a smile so utterly transparent that I'm left speechless. “Look at what Sophie did for you, Izzy.”
“Candies,” Isabella laughs, her attention on the delicious treats. It’s not until Xavier speaks my name again, crouching to her height and inviting her to say hello, that her green eyes finally meet mine. They aresolike his. I alternate between their similarities, feeling more comforted than I expected to be at this moment.
“I'm Sophie. It’s nice to meet you, Isabella.”
She gasps, pointing to the presents. “Daddy, look!”
“Those are for you,” I explain, glancing at my husband. “From us.”
As she jumps onto the downy quilt to grab the wrapped boxes, an arm encircles my waist, drawing me in. Xavier plants a kiss on my temple. “This must have taken you all morning.”
I'm too nervous to confirm that, watching the sweet girl tear into the polka-dot wrapping.
She freaks out over both gifts as we sit beside her on the blanket. Xavier encourages her to eat while it’s hot, both of us laughing at how eagerly she devours everything, stealing bacon from his plate and fruit from mine.
“Ask permission before taking someone’s food, Iz,” Xavier insists, laughing as she does just that, one hand already digging out another grape. “And say thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Gathering all of my courage, I point to the book beside her. “You like giraffes? I noticed you have one inside the house.”
“That’s George.”
“George?”
She nods, chewing. "I gave it to Daddy when he was sad.”
Xavier switches the subject quickly enough for it to mean something, offering to read to her. My eyes linger on him as he lies on his side, propped up on an elbow, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt rolled up to his forearms.
When he was sad…
Xavier reads in voices. I didn’t expect that.
High octaves and low—just to entertain her.
Staring between them, I lose focus on the story and drift into our memories, recalling his declaration on that mountain when he was tasked with taking out my sister. He told me what he wanted out of life: normalcy, with minivans, jobs, and babies.
He might not have all of those things, but he has one.
And despite the fact that she’s not mine, my vision is rapidly blurring, grateful to be able to see him this way. Not so long ago, that wasn’t even a possibility. No matter what happens to me, at least I'm experiencing life again.
At least I'm not alone.
“Sophie.” Hearing my name from her shocks not only me but also her father, who halts his reading as she pats the spot beside her. “You’re not listening.”
