Page 155 of The Widower
“You’re right. That’s on me. She should know. Now.”
I started to step away, but Isabelle grabbed my right hand.
“Colin…” She tried to meet my eyes but looked away almost instantly. “My daughter… how do I even explain this… well, she already sees you as…”
“As a father!”
I saw the color drain from Isabelle’s face the second I said it. Yes, I remembered that day—I’d overheard the two of them talking, and I knew exactly what Isabelle was about to say.
“How… how do you know?”
“I’m sorry.” I gave a sheepish smile.“That day, I overheard your conversation. I told you I didn’t, but it felt like the right thing to do at the time.”
She tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.
“What is it? Tell me.”I pulled her gently into my arms.
“You’re the first man my daughter’s ever gotten attached to like this, and honestly… it scares me.” She looked into my eyes.
“What exactly are you afraid of?”
“You know,” she said quietly. “Of… something happening that pulls us apart.There’s just so much. I know I’ve made mistakes too, Colin.”
“Nothing’s going to happen. I’m not going anywhere. Actually, I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you.”
“Why not?” she asked, frowning.
“I don’t know. In my head, this is something I should be talking about with Hanna—since it’s really her decision.”
She looked torn, saying nothing for a few seconds.
“I’m afraid to ask what you’re thinking,” she muttered.
“Come on.”
Isabelle followed me, and when Hanna spotted us, she came running and leapt into my arms. Our bond had only grown stronger through all those therapy sessions—the kids never wanted to leave my side.
“Hanna, I need to ask you something.” I set her down and crouched so we were eye to eye.
“For me?!” she asked, her face lighting up in surprise.
“Yeah. Your answer’s really important.”
“Colin, what are you up to?” Isabelle said, already suspicious.
“Okay, Uncle Colin,” Hanna said with mock seriousness.
“Would you let me and your mom date?”
I couldn’t help glancing at Isabelle after I said it, and I honestly couldn’t describe the look on her face.
“Uh-huh! She really likes you,” Hanna said with a huge grin, barely even hesitating.
“Hanna!” Isabelle tried to scold her, but she was far too embarrassed to sound authoritative.
“Well then. Problem solved,” I said, smirking.
“Oh, and you’re not gonna ask her mom anything?” Isabelle crossed her arms. I stepped closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and brushing my fingers gently along her cheek.
