Page 88 of No Greater Love
"Both of you?"
Nate glanced at me. "If that's what you want."
"I want Tasha there too." Paige's hand found mine. "Is that okay?"
"Of course it is," I said, squeezing gently.
Paige was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What's she like?"
"I don't really know anymore," Nate admitted. "She seemed... different. Older. More put together."
"Is she pretty?"
The question caught us both off guard. Such a kid thing to wonder about.
"She's... yes, she's pretty," Nate said carefully.
"Prettier than Tasha?"
"Hey!" I protested, trying to lighten the moment. "I'm right here!"
Paige smiled a little. "I'm just asking."
"No one's prettier than Tasha," Nate said, and the simple certainty in his voice made my throat tight.
"That’s right," Paige said. Then, more quietly: "What if I don't like her?"
"Then we leave," Nate said. "Simple as that."
"What if she doesn't like me?"
Oh, this kid. I pulled her into my side. "Then she's an idiot. Because you're the best kid in the entire world."
"You have to say that."
"Doesn't make it less true."
Paige leaned into me, and I felt the weight of her trust like a physical thing. This little girl who'd already been left once, being asked to open herself up to that same person again.
"Okay," she said finally. "I'll meet her. Once."
"You're sure?" Nate asked.
"No. But you think I should, right?"
The raw honesty of it broke my heart. Nate looked like he'd been punched.
"I think..." he started, then stopped. "I think you're brave. And whatever you decide, we've got you."
"Promise?"
"Promise," we said together.
Later, after Paige was in bed, Nate and I sat on the back deck despite the evening chill. He'd been quiet since our talk with Paige, that thousand-yard stare I recognized from his PTSD episodes.
"She's going to hurt her," he said finally. "Sarah's going to disappoint that little girl, and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
"Maybe. Or maybe Paige will see right through her the way she saw through the whole situation tonight."
