Page 173 of Beautifully Scarred

When I get back downstairs, Lilah is tucked into the corner of the couch in the family room, a book in her hand. She was right about the storm. Rain pelts the window, bolts of lightning illuminating the sky with thunder rumbling immediately after. She sets the book down when I sit in the chair besides the couch.

“Did she wake up?”

I sit in the chair. “Yeah. She asked me if she could call me Daddy.”

Lilah’s hands fly to her mouth. “She did?”

I nod, still a little dazed. “I feel like I can fucking fly right now. I can’t describe it.”

She raises up and hugs me. She squeezes me for a long time before she pulls away.

“What’s wrong?” I brush a tear away with my thumb, cupping her cheek.

“I’m so sorry I ever kept her from you. It was the wrong thing to do. You’re a good man, the best. I should’ve trusted all along that you would do the right thing for her and not take her away from me.”

I don’t know what to say to ease her guilt. I’m not going to sit here and tell her that what she did was okay and that I don’t also wish she hadn’t done it. “What’s done is done. We can only move forward. I’ve forgiven you.”

Another tear slips down her cheek as she sits back down on the couch. “But if I didn’t, you could’ve had these moments with her years ago.”

I don’t know what to say to will her to believe that I only want to move forward and that this isn’t something I want hanging over us, or even just over her regardless of what happens between us. “If we’re going to move forward, we both have to forgive one another.”

She nods. The way she’s staring at me, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, it’s easy to see that she wants to talk.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

My muscles tense. “Okay…”

“I can’t stay here much longer. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us in setting us up here, but I have a job. They’re understanding to a point, but I need to get back to my life.”

It’s not like I didn’t know this was coming. I just hoped it wasn’t coming so soon. Truth is, I’ve enjoyed the time here—and it’s not just because of Monica. It’s Lilah too. As much as I hate to admit that, even if it’s only to myself.

“The press will probably still be skulking around your place. There’s nothing they want more than a picture of Monica.”

She nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I know. But we can’t hide out forever. At some point, we’re going to have to deal with the reality of who her dad is in this world.”

I push a hand through my hair. I hate that my daughter has to deal with this shit. Why can’t I just do my job while the world leaves my offspring out of it? But Lilah is right. There’s only so long we can hide from reality. At some point, they’re going to get their shot and it’ll be plastered all over every magazine.

“We’re going to need to come up with some kind of plan. I’m not comfortable with the two of you being sitting ducks in your house. There’s no telling how far they’ll go, and I need to know you’re both safe.”

She opens her mouth, but a big flash lights up the room, followed by a large crackle. The house is plunged into darkness.

“Shit, that sounded like a transformer.” I pull my phone from my pocket and turn on the flashlight.

“I think I saw some matches in one of the drawers,” Lilah says. “We can light some candles.”

I keep the light aimed at the floor so it’s not in her face and see her rise up off the couch.

“Can you light my way? I left my phone upstairs.”

“Sure thing.” I follow her into the kitchen and shine the light on the drawer she’s digging through. When she pulls something out, I bring the flashlight up to see what it is but shine the light in her face by accident.

“Ack!” She brings her hand up to shield her eyes and laughs.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” I laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but all I’m seeing are spots now.”

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