Page 34 of The Third Girl

“Thanks, man. That means the world to me.”

I snicker. “Logan’s going to be pissed.”

“Nah. I’ve been teasing him that they eloped so he didn’t have to choose between the two of us for his best man. He’s one hundred percent cool being a groomsman.”

“It’s hard to believe you two will finally be married.” I shake my head in mild disbelief. “It seems like we’ve been waiting for this forever.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Imagine how I feel.”

* * *

By the time I get home, I’m still exhausted but in better spirits. I pull into the driveway at eight thirty, noting the lights on in the kitchen. It’s nice to have someone here when I get home. There are a lot of things I miss about my life with Terri, but this is definitely one of them. Knowing someone is waiting for me makes the long nights not so terrible.

As I open the door, a delicious scent wafts through the house. My mouth begins to water, and that’s right around the time I realize what I’m smelling. I turn the corner, and my gorgeous daughter has a piece of waffle on her fork and is dipping it into a tiny puddle of syrup. My heart clenches.

I haven’t had waffles in a year, even though they’re my favorite. They were Terri’s, too.

“Daddy!”

I blink and divert my attention from my shattered heart to our daughter, who smiles happily at me despite the sticky syrup all over her mouth.

“Hey, Matt. How was work?”

I blink again, lifting my head as Skylar comes around the corner with a platter full of waffles and a mug of coffee in her hands. Will it ever not surprise me that the woman in my home is not Terri? I roughly clear my throat. “Um. Not so great. Bunch of drugged-up teens messing around at the high school.”

“What the heck is going on around here? I swear when I was in high school, we had none of that. Or maybe I was too much of a good girl to notice it.” She shrugs, giving me a bright smile.

My lips press into a tight line as my brows lift. Am I really about to ask? “What was that? Ten years ago?”

She cocks her head to the side, and from the way her eyes narrow ever so slightly, I can tell she’s caught on to what I’m asking. “Um, eight. I’m twenty-six.” She turns away and sets the food down in the middle of the table. Eyeing me cautiously, she asks, “You want a waffle? I made plenty. I figured I could freeze some and have them on hand for quick breakfasts for the little miss.” She bends at the waist, wrinkling her nose at Sailor in a way that makes her giggle. “Am I funny, Sailor?”

Sailor nods, showing her toothy toddler grin. “Funny.”

I sit leadenly in the seat next to Sailor’s high chair, my lip clenched tightly between my teeth, and stare at the plate of waffles. After a few moments, I look up again. Skylar’s eyes are fixed on me, and I swear, she’s looking right inside me for the answers I don’t know if I’m ready to give her.

“Are you okay?”

My eyes glaze over with unshed tears. I blink them back, my throat clogging with all the words I can’t say. My heart is caught in a vice, and it squeezes so tightly, I’m afraid it’s going to explode in my chest. I stand, resting a hand on my daughter’s head as I pass by her on my way into the kitchen.

I prop my ass against the counter, lacing my fingers at the back of my neck, and stare down at the floor. My head is a mixed-up mess. I don’t know what I’m doing in here, but I couldn’t sit with the waffles for another second. I heave out one breath, and then another, as my eyes follow the patterns of the wood grain in the floor.

From the sounds of it, Skylar is cleaning Sailor’s hands. She’s fussy, not digging it any better when Skylar does it than when I wipe her down. After a minute, I hear a click and assume Skylar is letting Sailor out of the high chair. Then, so soft I almost don’t hear her, Skylar whispers, “How about you go play with your toys in the living room for a while. I’ll come out there once I’ve cleaned up the kitchen, and you can show me everything.”

“Otay.” Tiny footsteps sound in the hallway before turning quiet when she hits the carpeting in the living room.

Nothing alerts me to Skylar’s presence at my side until her hand rests on my bicep. Her bare feet have come into view, her toenails polished a shiny, bright red. I drag in an unsteady breath. I force the words out in a painful rasp. “I was going to make waffles for Terri when I got home.”

In my peripheral vision, I see Skylar cover her mouth with both hands. From behind them, she murmurs, “Oh. Oh no. Matt, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

I suck in a breath. “I’m the only one who could have told you.” My jaw twitches. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

She steps in front of me, lowering her hands from her face. “I can get rid of them.” She tips her head back to look at me. Her pretty green eyes are glossy and shining. “Please let me make you something else to eat.” Her hands tremble as she reaches for me. I don’t know what her intention was, but she pulls them back at the last second. Shaking her head, she suggests, “Why don’t you go shower. Do you like omelets? I make a mean one.” Her expression is so hopeful and full of sincerity that I can’t help but nod.

“Okay.” I push away from the counter, pivoting to exit, but before I go, I rest my hand on her shoulder. Without looking at her, I grit, “Not your fault, Skylar.” My fingers squeeze briefly before I remove my hand.

I wish I could say more. Maybe I will later. Right now, I can only hope that she believes me that none of this was her doing. How could she have known?

Fucking waffles.

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