But I was edging forward, unable to stop, unable to think.
Only able to go for what I’d been running from for the last six years.
Knew the second Violet felt me, the way her spine went rigid and chills skated across her skin.
Goosebumps rippling.
I wanted to press my hands to it and chase the thrill. Let my tongue follow suit. Get lost in the sea of it.
Collide with destruction.
Since we were ruined, anyway, what more could it hurt than it already did?
That little angel at her side turned like she sensed me, too. Dark eyes the same color as Violet’s grew wide, her adorable face breaking out in a curious smile.
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.
It stabbed and slayed. Cut me open. My guts nothing but a bleeding, mangled mess left like an offering at their feet.
“Hi. Whatcha doin’? You want a cookie? Do you smells that? Mr. Leon makes the yummiest, yummiest cookies in the whole wide world. Well, except for my papa. My papa’s are yummy, yum, yum to my tum, tum, tum, but he makes a different kind.”
She held one out to me.
Shit.
Someone needed to tell this kid not to talk to strangers.
I roughed a hand through my hair, anxious, but maybe not as anxious as Violet who finally forced herself to turn around and face me.
Fuck.
Didn’t matter how many times I looked at this girl. There wouldn’t be a time when she didn’t knock the breath from my lungs.
She looked like a little bit of magic.
A taste of serendipity.
“Mommy…look…it’s the man in your prettiest picture.”
Mommy.
My heart spluttered. Failed. Maybe as hard as I had failed them.
And to this kid, I was not a stranger.
She recognized me. Violet had kept a picture of me where she could find it. Would I have thought she wouldn’t have, though? Thought she would have purged all evidence of me away?
I knew her better than that, didn’t I?
Daisy clung to her hand, swinging around at Violet’s side, canting so far toward me that Violet had to hold her so she didn’t face-plant onto the floor.
“What’s your name?” she asked, her eyes narrowing with keen curiosity. “I asks before but Mommy told me she would tell me when I got big.”
She looked up at Violet. “I’m big now, right? I turned five and now I’m almost all the way to six.”
The last she directed at me, lifting her hand to show me the evidence with her fingers. Only it was the hand that was holding the cookie. It dropped to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.
Violet looked like she was going to do the same.
Fall apart.
Crumble right there.
I just wished I was strong enough to catch her. Hold all those pieces the way I was meant to do.
“Oops. Sorry,” the little thing said, her hand going to her mouth, her chubby fingers splaying over her lips to hide her embarrassment.
Violet’s throat trembled and those magnetic eyes filled with moisture. She glanced down at the child. “You’re right. You are big. This is Richard, Daisy.” Her voice trembled when she said it.
The little girl tugged her hand from Violet’s and shoved it toward me. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Richard.”
Hand shaking like a bitch, I took it. Felt the warmth. Grief crushed me by the throat. Felt like I was pinned to a wall and being choked out. “It’s nice to meet you, Daisy. You have a very pretty name.”
A smile split her face. “My papa named me, just like he did my mommy.” She leaned forward farther, dropping her voice like it was a secret when she said, “My mommy’s name is Violet. Like a pretty flower.”
Like I didn’t know.
Like I hadn’t whispered that name a thousand times.
Moaned it when she’d shown me what heaven really was like.
Shouted it when I’d wake in the middle of the night and realize she really was gone.
Tried to clear the roughness, but the words were raw, “Yeah, her name is very pretty. Just like the rest of her.”
Violet shook.
Anger and disbelief.
Could I fuck this up any worse? Stand there like a beggar, a prodigal, and ask her to forgive me?
But I didn’t even want that.
Knew I didn’t deserve her forgiveness.
Just standing there was breaking every rule I’d given myself.
Nothing but another vulgar betrayal.
But I wished to God she could at least understand.
“We should get going,” Violet grated through the emotion clogging her throat.
“Well, who do we have here?” Rhys’ voice broke through the disorder.
“Daisy!” Daisy bounced on her toes.
Tiny thing was way too friendly for her own good.
Violet sighed in exasperation. “Rhys.”
“Violeta.”
He grinned at her before he shifted his attention to the child.
“Daisy? As in Daisy Mae? Holy moly. And are you eatin’ my favorite cookies?”
She giggled. “I dropped it. You want it? I’ll get it for you, but it’s broken.”
He laughed. “You offerin’ me a cookie from the floor?”