Page 29 of Seducing Daddy

“Look, you caught me at a bad time, that’s all. I really appreciate your calling. Sorry for being a dick. I’ll call you later on, okay?” I dispatched myself quickly, walking over to say a proper good morning to Jolene. “How did you sleep?” I asked.

“Really good, thank you. Who was that on the phone?” she questioned after I kissed her cheek.

“That was Chet. The road is open.” I snagged the creamer from the fridge. “Time to take you home,” I told her, observing her reaction.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said. “I can go check on my kitty, Margo. I haven’t been away from her this long since getting her as a kitten.”

“How about we have some breakfast and head on out?” I asked, kicking my foot at the baseboard of the kitchen counter, my heart deflated by the thought of no longer having her at my side.

“Sounds good,” she said. “I’m getting spoiled by you making coffee for me every morning. I’ll have withdrawals when I go home.” Her words hung awkwardly between us. Our time was coming to an end, but I didn’t want her to back away from me. Not after everything we’d shared together.

I closed the distance between us, putting my hands on top of her shoulders and peering down into her eyes. “Anytime you want me to fix you breakfast, Jolene, say the word.” She wavered as if trying to comprehend what she was hearing. I loved the barely perceptible splotches of color that highlighted her cheeks. It made me need to kiss all her worries away. My lips found their way instinctively to hers, lingering, savoring every moment we had left together.

Something about sharing a meal had a truth serum effect, which I deployed. “Jolene, I have a favor to ask you.”

She hesitated, measuring me for a moment.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing big,” I advised her. “At least, for me, it doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

“What is it?” she asked, choosing her words carefully. “The suspense is killing me.”

“I’d like you to trust me enough to tell me what happened to you. To acquaint me with the kind of secret that has the power to frighten a woman who is as strong as steel.”

Jolene pushed her plate away, stacked her fork on top of her spoon, and blew a gust of air past her lips, emptying her lungs.

“I don’t like to talk about it,” she said.

“I understand, but I care about you and want to know everything about you. That means no secrets between us.”

She dragged her fingertips across the counter. “Rex, I care about you, too. I’m just so afraid that you won’t respect me anymore if I tell you what happened.”

“Did you kill someone?” I inquired warily, hoping to make her laugh.

She laughed bitterly, her expression tight with strain. “Sometimes I wish I had.”

The silence stretched out between us until I wondered if I’d made a grave error and scared her off by asking her to share her history with me too soon.

She chewed on her lip and stole a look at me. “I didn’t just move to Briarville. I ran from my ex-husband.” She slumped over with a worried expression, and I topped off her coffee and added a dollop of creamer, trying to hide the fact that my hands shook, and fury almost choked me.

“You mentioned him before.” It wasn’t the first time I suspected her secret related to her former marriage. Her actions now made complete sense. She avoided relationships with men and struggled with intimacy and trust. Who wouldn’t?

Though breathless with rage, I didn’t want to intimidate her and tried hard not to reveal my anger. “Did he hurt you?” I asked.

Tears slipped down her cheeks and choked her voice, piercing my chest. I came around the counter and wrapped my arms around her, rocking her back and forth in comfort. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you—your Daddy’s got you.”

The contrast between the self-sufficient, uber-independent, and often cantankerous female and this sad, inconsolable baby girl was vast. Finally, her sobs died down, and her next words practically shredded my heart. “He was deranged.” She scrubbed her face with her hands, and I handed her a tissue. “I could never understand how he came to hate me so much. It wasn’t like I ever cheated on him or did anything to merit how badly he wanted to hurt me.” Her sobs picked up again, and still, I held her close, tucking her body against me. “I’m so ashamed.” Her voice was stifled, and she stared blankly with her mouth open.

“That’s a common response for women who’ve experienced what you have. It was never your fault, angel. You never deserved to be hurt. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”

The line of her mouth tightened a fraction more. “If only it had been just me he hurt.” A raw and primitive grief overwhelmed her.

“What is it, Jolene? What haunts you?” I’d give anything to bestow upon her the peace of God’s mercy, to grant her an encounter with divine forgiveness.

There is a certain despair. One we cannot shake. One we will take to our deathbed—a sadness so deep it troubles us until the day we die, and the only way to escape it is to pretend it doesn’t exist. I’d seen it before, expressed by more than one defeated parishioner, and that’s what I witnessed in Jolene’s history. I nearly hated myself for bringing it up. Even more so when she wailed, “He killed my baby!” Deep sobs wracked her insides, and she shook so hard it threatened to unleash the stab of guilt she carried in her breast. All I could do was hold her. Be there for her until her red-rimmed eyes held no more tears, and her lungs could wail no more.

When she lifted her eyes, the pain still flickered there. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”

“I regret making you think of this again. Can you ever forgive me?” I asked. Getting on my knees, I looked up at her, beseeching her shrine of tragedy, and hoping that somehow, some way, I’d be able to rescue her from it. “You don’t have to tell me how it happened. Jolene. I’m so sorry.”

---