Page 35 of The Caress

"That’s all you need to say." Now I’m second-guessing myself. Sure, I pressured her to accept these gifts, but they’regifts. Is she really going to be upset with me over a few small presents?

Or maybe she’s still upset over the Malta situation. This is just the icing on the cake. I don’t fucking know. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t fucking care.

But she isn’t someone else.

She’s Ella.MyElla.

And I do care.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

ELLA

By the time we’ve been back in Malta for a full twenty-four hours, it’s almost like we never left. The sun is still shining, and the sounds and smells of the ocean are still all around us whenever we step outside. It’s hard to imagine there was a killer staying here with us before, but there was.

I remember all too well. My mind keeps wandering back to him whenever I’m by myself and it’s quiet in the house.

So I’ve been doing my best to stay busy and keep moving, which isn’t hard to manage in this household. Thank goodness for Isla, though. She really is a godsend. She's happy to keep me company all day, every day.

We’re sitting on her bedroom floor, and I’m braiding her hair when she turns her head to look up at me. "Why is your hair different from mine?"

I smile and reposition her to face ahead as I carefully try to figure out how I’m going to reply. "There are lots of reasons why someone’s hair might be different from someone else’s," I begin. "Some people prefer shorter hair. Some like to keep their hair longer. Some people have wavy hair, and some people straighten out their curls."

"But your hair looks different from mine. It’s pretty, but it feels totally different from mine."

"Your hair is just as pretty," I assure her, though I can’t help but keep smiling at the sweet compliment. "The way your hair looks and feels also depends on where your ancestors came from. Your ancestors are from Scotland and England, but mine are from a different part of the world. From Africa."

It’s a huge oversimplification, of course, but I hope it’s enough to satisfy her curiosity for now. I’m qualified to do a lot of things, but teaching genetics is a little outside my wheelhouse.

"Is that why your skin is a different color than mine?" Isla asks, because, of course, my explanation has only sparked more questions in her curious little mind. "Because we have different ancestors?"

"That's part of the reason," I say, nodding. "There are a lot of different factors, but most of the people I’m descended from have darker skin tones and hair that’s a similar color and texture to mine. Most of the people you’re descended from have lighter skin and lighter hair."

"My dad doesn’t have lighter hair," she counters, immediately poking a hole in my theory of evolution.

"True. But your grandmother does. And your mom. So when you have kids, they’ll have some of your traits, some of your husband’s. Some from people you’re descended from."

"That’s cool! I can’t wait to have kids of my own someday."

"Someday in the distant future," I laugh. "There’ll be plenty of time to think about marriage and kids and all that stuff when you’re a grownup."

God knows I still spend plenty of time thinking about those things now.

"Are you mad at my dad?" she asks, startling me with the quick change of topic.

"What makes you ask that?" I try to keep my tone casual even though I’m automatically starting to feel defensive. "Did he say I was mad at him?"

"No, but he’s been quiet since we’ve been back here. You’ve been quiet, too. So that usually means you’re mad at each other."

My stomach clenches, but I try to keep braiding her hair like nothing is wrong. I love how smart she is and hate how perceptive she can be at the same time. Kids shouldn’t have to worry about whether the adults around them are getting along.

"We’re not mad, sweetheart. It’s just," I pause, unsure of how much I should say. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, but I also don’t want her to have anxiety about my relationship with her dad. "Your father is a very important man. There are some people out there who don’t like seeing him spend time with me."

"Those people should mind their own business," she says, making me laugh in spite of the heavy topic.

"I agree, sweetie. But people are always going to have opinions about everything important people do. That’s just part of life, so we have to deal with it the best way we can. Your dad and I are still figuring out how to deal with it, but that doesn’t mean we’re upset with each other."

She’s quiet for a few seconds, then looks up at me again. "I like seeing you with my dad. I think you’d be a good girlfriend for him."

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