Chapter 126 126

Chapter 126 126
“She did her best,” I explain haltingly. “But she was not in a position to help me. She was scared, just like I was. She had to listen to my father or he was cruel to her.”

Isla frowns. “But he seemed so nice when I met him.”

“Some people lure you in that way. Before they reveal who they truly are.”

“I don’t like him anymore.”

“No, neither do I.”

“Even though he’s your father.”

“Even though he’s my father,” I agree.

She nods and contemplates that for a while. Then she turns her eyes up to me once again and I know instantly that another impossible question is coming. “Papa?” she asks. “Do you love me?”

My gut twists painfully. I wonder when all my steel dissolved. Probably around the time she’d first looked at me and called me Papa. It was the first time I felt that burgeoning sense of obligation that belied all logic. It was the first time I felt like I had something to lose.

Say something, dammit. You’ve already fucked things up with Kinsley. Don’t fuck them up with your daughter, too. Don’t you dare. Some things can’t be fixed once they’re broken. This is one of them.

But nothing will come out of my mouth. It’s like I’m screaming silently. You’d think the words would come easily, considering they’re true, but I’ve never been the recipient of declarations like that. Nor have I ever offered them up. To anyone.

This is the moment, though. It’s do it now or lose her forever.

So say it, you bastard. Say it. Say it. Say.

“Yes, Isla Whitlow. I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of loving another person.”

Her smile becomes wider. “And what about Mom? Do you love her, too?”

I stare at her for a long time, waiting for a distraction. Any distraction. But there’s nothing but the quacking of ducks and the far-off sounds of a quiet little town that knows nothing of our troubles.

“I love your mother, too,” I say softly. “More than I know how to put into words.”

Then, of her own accord, Isla leans in and places her head right against my chest. I wrap my arm around her little shoulders and pull her against my warmth, and for a little while, we sit there, me and my daughter, loving each other in a way I didn’t think I’d ever get to experience.

“Isla!”

We turn together to see Kinsley standing just behind us, her eyes wide with relief.

“Mom!” Isla calls, stumbling to her feet and running towards Kinsley’s open arms. They cling to each other for a long time, and I just sit there and watch them. They make so much sense together. It’s weird to think about a time when there was Kinsley and me, without Isla. She is the tie we needed between us.

“Honey, are you alright?” Kinsley asks, finally pulling away from Isla long enough to look at her face. “You scared me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I bet you were scared, too, huh?”

Isla nods, and Kinsley gets down on her knees in front of Isla. “I’m sorry you saw what you did, but it isn’t what it looked like, honey. Papa and I, we were having an adult conversation and we were both saying things and reacting badly and… Sometimes, grownups get all scared and flustered, too, you know.”

Isla nods. “I know. Papa explained.”

Kinsley stiffens but doesn’t look in my direction. “Here, put your jacket on, sweetheart. It’s cold and you’ve been out here a long time.”

She spins Isla around and teases her arms into the coat. When Isla turns back around, Kinsley zips her up and gives her a huge smile. “Feel better?”

“Lots.”

“Good. Are you ready to come home now?”

“Yes.”

Kinsley gets to her feet and takes Isla’s hand. Then, for the first time, she looks at me. Her expression is curiously devoid of any emotion.

I suppose I deserve that. I deserve to be shut out from her thoughts.

“Come on, baby,” Kinsley says, looking at me while talking to Isla. “Let’s go home.”

The two of them lead the way. I follow behind. We walk back to the apartment quietly. Petro sends me a text that he’s left some takeout for us in the kitchen and stepped out to give us space.

When we get upstairs, the smell of Chinese wafts through the Parisian vibe of the apartment. “Why don’t you go wash your hands for dinner?” Kinsley asks Isla.

“Okay,” she says, zipping off down the hall.

When we’re alone, Kinsley offers me a tiny glance, but she averts her gaze almost immediately and walks into the kitchen. She’s pulling out plates and opening containers when I enter the kitchen. She’s tense, I can tell from the rigid way she’s handling the utensils.

“Kinsley—”

“Not now,” she says, turning to me, holding a plate in front of her like a shield. “I just want to have a nice dinner, okay? I don’t want to talk now.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” is all I say.

It’s the least I can do.

30

KINSLEY

“She’s asleep,” I say, walking towards the couch in the sitting room.

Daniil is sitting on one end, his eyes cast out of the window. When he turns them on me, they look as dark as the sky outside. I sit down at the other end of the sofa and tuck my feet up under me..

“Good. She was tired.”

“Running away will do that to you.”

He just regards me with that impassive expression, wiped clean of human expression. Sometimes, as much as I love him, I just want to shake him. Shake all that armor right off him.

“She said you talked to her,” I nudge. “Explained things.”

“I did. Tried to, at least.”

“Well, she went to sleep happy.” I glance out the window, suddenly forgetting everything I wanted to say before sitting down. It’s a beautiful night. The sky goes on forever, unmarred by buildings, planes, clouds. It’s nice.

“I shouldn’t have touched you the way I did,” Daniil says, breaking the silence.

I sigh. “Daniil—”

“It’s true what I told you, you know. The things I saw. The things I did. The things I let happen.”

“Because he forced you to do them.”

“I could have stood up to him a lot sooner.”

“You were young.”

“I was old enough to know the difference between right and wrong!” he snarls suddenly. His voice breaks in a way that makes my heart do the same. “I was old enough to see my father for what he was.”

I let his words fade into the warm, quiet darkness. “You still think it’s easy to break away from abusive relationships. I believe you were the one who lectured me about that when we first met.”