His voice was husky, laced with some emotion that she couldn’t quite place. No, she could; she just didn’t want to because it suggested he cared and the idea of that only led them down a scary, unknown path.
She smiled tentatively and gave a small shrug. ‘I’m not sure.’
He took a breath, his eyes falling to his glass. ‘No, it’s nice that she wants you to read to her. What...’ His eyes came back to her, soft, concerned. ‘What bothers me is your relationship with your family. You miss them.’
She was so surprised by his turn in focus that she didn’t know how to react, let alone what to say. She shook her head.
‘You do, Sophia; it’s written in your face when you talk of them. You’re so haunted by her loss that you’d rather avoid them than try to forge a relationship of any sort.’ He paused, his eyes scanning her face. ‘I know I shouldn’t compare, but it would kill me to lose touch with Lily, and I think it’s slowly eating away at you too.’
‘Yes, but I don’t know how to fix things. I don’t even know where to begin...’
‘You just need to be honest with them, talk to them. Yes, it’ll be different to how it was, but a new relationship is better than none. And you need to do it while you still can, while they’re still around.’ He shifted closer, adding quietly, ‘We both know how short life can be.’
She took a shaky breath. She knew he was right, knew it and yet she hadn’t been able to make that first move. And her parents... Well, they’d given up making the first move long ago.
‘It wasn’t your fault, Sophia.’
His voice rasped with emotion, its rough edge working over her body like a caress and a hug in one. She felt the spike of tears, felt her throat close and tried to swallow, but it was no use; they were coming and there was nothing she could do about it.
This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to talk about Lily; she wanted to make him realise that his daughter needed to be around other children, not have some ad hoc therapy session with the man she could so easily fall for...fall for and never have...
She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips and tried to nod her head in response, to let him know his words had hit home. She felt his arm slip behind her, the warmth of his body as they came together, and she didn’t know whether she leaned in or if he’d moved, but she was in his arms, her head tucked beneath his, her body shaking as she let go.
‘She was in my care though; she was my responsibility.’
‘And you were no more than a child yourself.’
‘I was old enough to take care of her and...and...’ She couldn’t finish it; the tears were too much, the sob shuddering up through her. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Please, you don’t need to be strong with me, Soph. It’s okay to let go.’
She gave a scoff. Strong? It was hardly how she saw herself.
He leaned away to place his glass on the side, came back to take hers next and then his arms were around her and she couldn’t pull away. She was too comfortable, too soothed, too lost in his scent and inviting warmth.
‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you, but I couldn’t let you leave tonight without saying something. Blame it on me being a father: Lily will never know her mother. Yes, she has a picture by her bed. Yes, I talk about her, what she liked, what they did together...but she’ll never have real memories of her, she’ll never know her for herself. She has me and I’ll do all I can to be enough.’
I’ll do all I can to be enough...
She took a dee
p breath, his words hitting so close to what she wanted to discuss that she needed to regain her control, to make him see.
‘You’re a good father.’
He gave a gentle laugh, the move making her head lift against his chest.
‘You are...’ she insisted.
‘But? Why do I sense there’s going to be a but?’
She pressed herself off his chest to look at him, needing him to see that what came next wasn’t designed to hurt him or criticise him; she just wanted him to see the truth. ‘But Lily needs more than just you.’
His eyes narrowed as his body tensed beneath her fingers. ‘Look, Sophia, I know things between us...between us are... I don’t know what they are...but I have no place in my life for a woman, for a rel—’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ she choked out, shuffling back on the sofa as she swept her fingers over her damp cheeks and felt them burn and pale in an instant.
‘It isn’t?’