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I swallow hard, the weight of my remorse threatening to suffocate me. “Just some school picture shopping.”
“Oh?”
That’s when Bailey blurts, “Daddy needs to apologize.”
Laura twists one of her messy pigtails around her fingers. “No, he doesn’t. He has already, Bailey. I just need some time to think it over.”
“Laura . . .” I start.
“Liam ...” she says at the same moment. We both slide our glances away awkwardly until Bailey shifts within Laura’s embrace.
My chest tightens as memories of my outburst flood my mind—the venomous words I had hurled at her, the unjust accusations borne of my own unresolved pain. All the things I’ve been working through with Alice. Still, I drop my gaze to Bailey. Laura tips her chin in understanding. God, she’s so careful with Bailey. How could I have even temporarily laid Ashleigh’s crimes at her feet? “I want the chance to show you how much I—we—have missed you, not with a gift, not with a text. You deserve to hear it from my heart to yours. You deserve everything. That’s what I wanted to say.”
Her gaze softens, a flicker of vulnerability seeping through her defenses. Silence hangs between us, pregnant with fractured dreams. But beneath it all, there lingers a fragile glimmer of hope—a chance for redemption, for healing.
She murmurs something to Bailey before coming to stand directly in front of me.
“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the din of the weekend traffic.
“I’ll spend a lifetime trying to earn it back.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will.”
Her face flushes and for the first time since that god-awful afternoon, I feel hope. After Laura says goodbye to Bailey, I stare after her as she makes her way back to her cousins. One step at a time, I caution myself.
One moment where she isn’t pushing me away.
I’ll do penance forever, so long as the journey ends with me on a path toward Laura.
Chapter
Seventy-Six
Since running into her at Bodega, I’ve begun sending Laura a fresh bouquet of flowers that mimic the ones I handed her the night of the hospital gala. I’ve emailed her spa gift cards to use with her cousins. DoorDashed coffee to her on weekends.
Anything to keep the line of communication open between us.
Every second, I hope she’s not going to tell me to get lost, or I’m not going to run into her with some other man. Christ, my heart—already in pieces—would be ash.
Dust.
But as each week passes, my hope dwindles. Bracing my hand against the window in my bedroom, I wish she knew how much I regret what happened to us.
“If I could turn back time, I would. I’d take better care of you, sweetheart.”
Knowing that’s an impossibility, I let out a large sigh before climbing into bed—a bed that feels far too large without her. Holding my buttercup pillow to my chest, I try to sleep so I don’t wreck.
I have to take Bailey to the hospital for a physical therapy appointment tomorrow.
Maybe I’ll get a glimpse of her even if it’s on the damn hospital directory sign.
Outside of Greenwich Hospital, I lean against my car. It’s not going to get any easier, no matter how long you wait.
“Daddy? What’s wrong?” Bailey asks from my side.
“Nothing.” Liar.