Page 19 of Always You (Guardian Hall #1)

Chapter Nineteen

JAZZ

I fidgeted with my sleeve, tugging it down, then pushing it up, my eyes darting to the clock… Two minutes to go…

“She’ll be here,” Alex reassured me, and I sent him a smile, but my nerves rattled inside me like marbles in a tin can. I wiggled my fingers to stop myself from clenching them into fists and shoving them into my pockets.

Alex noticed my restlessness, the way I couldn’t seem to stand still, and his expression softened. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice gentle, pulling me back from the edge of my worries.

I glanced at him, finding a strange comfort in his familiar presence. “I don’t know how to do this, Alex. What if she doesn’t… What if she’s just coming here to say goodbye or…?”

“What did her emails say?” Alex asked, trying to ground me in reality.

I blinked at him, my mind scrambling before the words from her last email filtered through. “She’s excited to see me. She has a boyfriend. She’s happy I’m here.”

“There you go then.” He stepped closer, his gaze holding mine. “You’re here, Jazz. You’re trying. That’s what matters. Harper knows that. Just allow her to see the dad who loves her so much he’s here, shaking, because he wants everything to be perfect for her.”

His sincere and encouraging words eased some of the tightness in my chest. “I just wish I had your confidence,” I admitted.

Alex chuckled, a sound that echoed around the room. “I have enough for both of us,” he assured me. He bumped my arm gently and leaned in close. “It’s okay,” he murmured so only I could hear. “Breathe, Jazz. You’ve got this.”

“Can I…” My voice trailed off, the request lingering on the tip of my tongue.

“What?” Alex looked at me, ready to help however he could.

“This is stupid, but can I get a hug?” I asked, feeling like a child desperate for reassurance.

He stepped forward confidently, pulling me into his arms. I hesitated for a moment before hugging him back. As my forehead rested against his shoulder, a wave of calm washed over me. I found a sense of home in Alex's arms—a reminder of a past filled with shared dreams and secrets.

We stood there, savoring the peace. My heart beat a steady rhythm, and for those few seconds, I permitted myself to be supported by the person who had known me at my best and worst.

As we pulled back, our eyes met, and there was a pause, a breath where the world seemed to be still. I could see the concern, the care in Alex’s eyes, and something deeper, something neither of us had dared to voice. We were close enough that I could feel his breath, see the slight parting of his lips.

I want to kiss him.

The moment stretched out. We leaned in closer, but the sound of the door handle turning snapped us back to reality. We separated as Harper entered. Her appearance was a jolt, reminding us of where we were and why. The potential moment faded, replaced by the reality of my daughter’s tentative smile as she stepped into the room.

“Hi, Dad,” Harper said, her voice carrying a nervous excitement.

I turned toward her, every ounce of my attention focusing on her, the most important person in my life.

Alex gave me an encouraging nod, a silent promise of support, as I began rebuilding the bridge between my daughter and me. The almost-kiss lingered in the back of my mind, a whisper of what might have been—or might yet be—but for now, all that mattered was the young woman’s hopeful eyes as she waited for her father to make the next move.

Stepping back to allow her space to come in, I managed a small smile, hoping it looked more confident than I felt. “Hi, Harper,” I said, my voice rough with emotion.

She entered, her gaze scanning the room, then landing on me. There was a moment, a heartbeat, where everything seemed to hang in the balance.

Harper stood as tall as me now, slim, with her long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. The last time I’d seen her, she was fourteen, but now, something magical had happened—she’d grown up. I felt pride, but with that pride was a sharp sting of regret—for all the missed moments and the growing up I hadn’t seen.

It wasn’t too late, I reminded myself. Sixteen wasn’t grown-up. There was still time, still so many moments ahead where I could be there for her, share in her life. Harper was the one who’d suggested this meeting, who’d said she wanted to see me. This was my chance, perhaps my best chance, to correct the years of absence when I’d never fought her mom’s fears, and when I’d thought it was safer to stay away.

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. “You’ve grown so much,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t deserve that, and it would be on her. “I’m?—”

Before I could get a word out, she flung herself into my arms so hard that I stumbled back, and only with Alex supporting me did I stay upright. Maybe her reaction meant I wasn’t too late? Perhaps she still loved me. She was crying; I know I was crying, and Alex stepped back as if he was leaving.

Something compelled me to ask him to stay, but tucked into my arms, Harper beat me to it.

“I’m Harper Brookes,” she said, extending a hand, which Alex shook.

Wait, she’d kept my name? Olivia always threatened that she was changing it, and I never fought that, but somehow, this small thing was huge.

“Alex Richardson. It’s nice to meet you,” Alex murmured.

“And you two really were friends?” she asked Alex as if that was a shock. “The probably spoiled son of a multi-millionaire and the poor kid from way outside the burbs?”

“We were. We are. Still friends, I mean,” Alex said before I could answer.

She raised her eyebrows. “So, I saw.”

“We were just hugging,” I defended, even though the burst of emotion made me want to admit that I wanted to kiss Alex. She chuckled, and Alex blushed as he smiled.

“I’ll leave you to talk, and if anyone needs me, just press the button on the wall and I’ll come in. Otherwise, the room is yours.” Then, before I could stop him, he’d left. I wanted to call him back, but I wasn’t a coward. Harper took the conversational baton and chatted on about school and her boyfriend—Luke-the-basketball-player—and prom and Christmas and did I remember her cat, Fluffy, from when she was three, and that he was still alive and as grumpy as he was as a kitten.

I went with the flow—inserted words where I needed to, and we made drinks, raided the snack supplies, and then, curled up in opposite corners of the two-person sofa. Only then did she grow silent and watchful, and I could see her studying me, maybe for evidence of injuries or scars, and for how different I must look.

“I missed you, Dad.” Her voice was soft, but each word carried a weight that settled on my shoulders. It was a simple statement, but it resonated with years of distance and all the unspoken things between us. I should have tried harder to be present, to be home, to make my marriage to her mom work.

My mouth went dry, unable to form any words, as I grappled with the overwhelming emotions conveyed by her words and her raw expression. It was the first time I’d heard her call me Dad in a while. I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat.

“I missed you too, so much,” I whispered.

She hesitated before she continued, as if gathering courage. “So, you should know that Mom has a boyfriend.”

“Okay.”

“So, she’s not ready to see you, or… y’know… available.”

I blinked at her, not sure what she meant until, suddenly, I did.

“Your mom and I are no longer married. I’ll always love her for giving me you, but not in a way that means she has to come see me.”

I love someone else.

I need someone else.

“Anyway, Robbie is a good guy, even if he’s not you. He doesn’t try to be my replacement dad or anything.” Her words were careful and measured, as if she was trying not to hurt me, but needed me to understand her world—the world I had missed—had changed. She didn’t need to tell me.

I didn’t fit into anyone’s world now.

I nodded, taking in what she said. “I’m glad your mom found someone nice,” I said, and I meant it. Olivia deserved happiness, even if it wasn’t with me. But Harper’s distinction—that he wasn’t me—stirred a mixture of regret and hope inside me. I regret not being there, for all the moments and everyday experiences I’d missed with Harper, and I hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was still a place for me in her life, a role I could fill that no one else could. Like her real dad, without taking away from her relationship with her mom’s new partner. She was still talking, and I focused back on her.

“Robbie’s different, you know? He’s kind, and he makes her smile, but there are things… I guess there are just things that make me wish you were there instead. Like when we watch old movies you used to talk about, or when I have school events…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze meeting mine again, searching.

My heart ached with her words, each one a reminder of what I had lost and what I still hoped to reclaim. “I’m here now, Harper. And I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I said and reached out a hand, which she took. “We’ve lost a lot of time, but I want to be part of your life however you want me to be.”

Harper nodded, a small smile breaking through her earlier solemnity. “I’d like that, Dad. I really would.”

The room felt warmer. She was part of a future I wanted, a chance to be the father she deserved, to be present in all the ways I hadn’t been before.

“I’ve missed a lot, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m here now and so proud of you—more than I can say.”

We grinned at each other, and then, she tugged her hand away, and her smile became a smirk.

“So, Dad, exactly how close were you to kissing Alex McHottie?”