Page 15 of Can’t Let You Go (Ivy Ridge #3)

The kernels start to pop as I grab the sprinkles from the spice cabinet.

They don’t add any flavor to the popcorn, but it makes things extra fun for Lennie.

I also decide to make us both Shirley Temples, complete with maraschino cherries and crazy straws.

Lennie’s is in her bright pink Disney cup, while mine is in a normal glass.

The microwave beeps, and I let it sit for a moment to finish popping before pulling the bowl out.

I separate Lennie’s into a smaller bowl, and throw a few shakes of sprinkles on it before setting it on a small tray to carry it all into the living room. Lennie is curled up on the couch under an array of blankets with the company of her stuffed animals from her room.

She shimmies with giddy excitement when she sees me coming, reaching for her bowl before I even set it down on the coffee table.

“Ah, ah,” I tsk. “We have to fix your hair, first.”

She sighs, dropping her arm. “Okay.” Lennie scoots off the couch and onto the floor, crossing her legs and wrapping her arm around her stuffed bear.

After arranging the bowls on the table so they don’t fall, I grab her hairbrush and ponytail holders. “What movie are we watching tonight?” I ask.

“Hmm.” She considers for a long moment. “The swan one.”

“ Barbie Swan Lake ?” I ask, though I know the answer. To be honest, that one might be my favorite of them, it’s at least tolerable compared to the newer movies.

“Yes!” she exclaims. I grab the remote and queue up the movie from a streaming service, and once the opening credits start, I get to work on her hair.

The women in my life have been trying to teach me how to do her hair, and I can do a basic braid, but the strands never end up even, causing it to look blocky and weird.

I have a love-hate relationship with doing her hair.

I love the uninterrupted time I get with her.

When we aren’t watching a movie, I’ll usually ask her about her day, or we will talk about school, her friends, or anything that comes to mind.

It helps me stop and enjoy the time instead of always rushing to the next activity or work day.

Once her hair is done in two chunky braids that fall down her back, I sink into the couch cushions. “You’re done kiddo, now, I need some snuggles.”

Lennie snickers, reaching up to grab her popcorn bowl and climbing back onto the couch.

I grab the bowl from her so it doesn’t spill everywhere while she settles, handing it back to her once she’s tucked into my side with her blankets covering her lap.

I pass her the covered Shirley Temple, and she takes a long drink of it.

Once she’s done with her snack, she snuggles herself into my side more, and starts playing with my shirt.

At the end, when the Prince and Odette get married, Lennie tilts her head up, looking at me with her chocolate brown eyes. “Daddy, when you get married, can I be in the wedding?”

My gut twists at her words as I reminisce on the earlier conversation with Fallon.

Her words struck more than I’d care to admit.

We’ve had more conversations like this as she’s gotten older, and every time, it gets harder.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get married,” I tell her.

“But if I do, of course you can be in the wedding.”

“Can I wear a pretty dress, like I did for Auntie Josie and Uncle Andrew’s?”

“Absolutely. ”

“Why don’t you know if you’ll get married? Everyone wants to get married.”

Whenever she brings up weddings, I fear the day she asks why I didn’t marry her mom. Truth be told, I would have. I would have done anything to get her to stay.

“I’m not sure, honey. Right now, I’m focused on taking care of you, and making sure you’re happy and healthy.”

“I am happy and healthy,” she counters. She narrows her eyes, sitting up a little. “I want you to be happy.”

I sigh, pulling her into my chest for a hug. “Lennie, I am happy. You make me happy, and that’s all I need. I don’t need to be married to be happy, not when I have you.”

When she pulls away, she twirls the end of her braid around her finger.

At five, I’m not sure she realizes there is more to a wedding than a fun party with pretty dresses.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t know if she is thinking about the fact that me getting married would mean she would have a step-mom.

Not that that is a bad thing, but what happens if things don’t work out?

Before or after the marriage? Not only would I be breaking my heart, I would be breaking hers too.

To have someone be a mother figure in her life, only to rip it away from her.

No, I can’t do that to her. I can’t put her through heartbreak, not now, preferably not ever. I never want her to experience the pain I’ve felt in losing her mom, in losing someone she loves.

She deserves more.

“I think you and Presley’s mom should get married,” Lennie shocks me by saying. I inwardly cringe, and run a hand down my face. I go to speak, but Lennie continues. “Then I would have a mom and a sister.”

Oh, dear.

“Lennie,” I start. “I’m not going to marry Fallon. ”

“Why not?” she asks innocently.

“Because… we aren’t in love. We don’t really know each other, peanut. We can’t get married.”

“So, get to know each other. I want to play with Presley more.”

“You can play with Presley anytime you want. Fallon and I don’t have to be married for that.”

Lennie’s brows furrow as she quips, “You’re grumpy. Your face is doing that thing where your forehead wrinkles, Daddy.”

“I’m always grumpy,” I reply, crossing my eyes and sticking out my tongue at her.

She squeaks with laughter. “I think you’re grumpy because you love Presley’s mom.”

I chuckle humorlessly. “And I think you’re late for bedtime.” I haul her into my arms, laughing right along with her as she squeals, kicking and screaming. I want her to be happy. Right now, I can keep her happy by being alone, despite what she thinks.

I plop a laughing Lennie down into her twin sized bed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I promise you, I am happy, Lennie. You don’t need to worry about me.”

She nods, sombering. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Lenners.” I tuck her into bed with all her stuffed animals and blankets, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before flicking the light off and saying one final goodnight before closing the door.

Somehow, Lennie has always been a great sleeper. She’s never wanted anything to do with sleeping in the same bed as me, unless she’s sick. She much prefers to sleep alone in her bed.

Even as an infant, she would rarely fall asleep in my arms, preferring to fall asleep after I laid her in her crib or bassinet. If anything, I was the clingy one when she was that small. I had to always be by her side, make sure she was breathing, and safe.

Back when Talia was still around, she would tease me, telling me we had to enjoy it while we could, because who knew what she would be like when she got older.

God, I wish I knew if Talia was okay or not.

It’s been years since we heard from her.

I check in with her parents often. They live in California, and we FaceTime with Lennie and them.

They come to visit every so often, but it’s hard for them.

They’re older, and not as mobile. I can’t fault them for it.

They do what they can, and I want my daughter to know as much family as possible.

They only hear from Talia every once in a while when she ends up at a shelter, or finds someone with a phone.

I don’t love her like that anymore, but as the mother of my child, I care for her enough to know if she’s alive or dead.

Addiction is… well, addiction, and she might not have had a choice in the end, but it hurts all the same.