I grunt my agreement. I’d do much more than bitch slap the bastards.
“I’ve got to get to the shop.”
I finish off my beer and toss the bottle in the trash. I stop by Ella and kiss her forehead before walking away. I’m at the kitchen doorway when her words stop me.
“Why do you care about her so much, Luca?” Her tone isn’t accusatory, just curious.
I don’t turn to face her, knowing she’ll see the pain and longing in my eyes if I do. Instead, I move forward again, my boots hitting the cheap linoleum, and tell her over my shoulder, “I wish I fucking knew.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jules
“CAN YOU DO MY HAIR in a French braid, Jules?” Aria asks as she sits in front of me while I brush her long, wet hair.
“I can,” I answer. “If you’d like, I can do one on each side of your head. Sort like pigtails, except they’ll be French braids.”
Her legs kick out, causing her to bounce on the couch. “Yes, please!”
I laugh at her thrilled shout. As I part her hair into two sections, I watch over her shoulder as she brushes her doll’s hair with a little plastic brush. She works hard at trying to do a braid, but it comes out all wonky. She brushes the hair out and tries again.
“Want me to do your doll’s hair next?”
“Uh-huh.”
Once I finish with both of their hair, she hops up, runs to the bathroom, then sprints back out a moment later.
“It’s so cool!” she says excitedly. “Will my hair be curly in the morning?”
I smile. “It will.”
“Yah!”
“Why don’t you go brush your teeth, and I’ll meet you in your room to tuck you in?”
“But what about Daddy? He’s not here yet.” Disappointment shines in her eyes.
I tap the end of her nose and get up from the couch. “I’ll have him come in to tell you good night when he gets here.”
“Okay.”
When she turns and leaves the living room, the jubilant child of a moment ago gone, anger and sorrow flare deep within me. This is the third night this week that Theo’s gotten home past Aria’s bedtime, and each time there’s a hint of women’s perfume on him. I don’t care that he’s sleeping with other women. It also doesn’t bother me that he has to know that I know. What pisses me off is his lack of attention for Aria, and the fact that she misses her daddy and he doesn’t seem to care.
When I hear the faucet in the bathroom turn off, I cool my temper and walk to Aria’s bedroom. She’s back to sleeping in her own bed, while I share Theo’s. Thankfully, there’s only been a couple of times he’s tried touching me, and I’ve pushed him away both times. I could tell he was pissed when I did, but he hasn’t pushed it. I don’t know if it’s because Aria is here or if he stops for some other reason. I’m just glad it hasn’t caused any problems. Yet. I don’t see Theo waiting much longer, and I’m not really sure I want it to work between us anymore.
I’m pulled back to the moment when Aria runs past me and jumps on the bed. She giggles when she bounces twice and lands on her back. My dark mood lightens more, and I can’t help but laugh at her childish behavior. The little girl knows just what to do to brighten whatever mood I’m in.
Once she’s situated underneath the covers with Mr. Waffles beside her, I start tucking them around her sides, “accidentally” tickling her when I pass by her ribs. She giggles and squeals, and it’s a wonderful sound to hear. I may not be this child’s mother, but there’s no way I could love her any more if I were. She makes it impossible to not fall for her. It saddens me to think her real mother threw this chance away to watch her daughter grow. It devastates me that Aria never had the opportunity to share that special bond only a mother and daughter can have.
“Can I ask you something, Jules?” Aria asks.
I sit beside her on the bed and brush away her bangs. “Sure, baby.”
Her lip wobbles and tears gather in her eyes. “Is Daddy mad at me?”
I suck in a breath, pain lancing my chest. Forcing back the moisture that wants to gather in my eyes, I ask Aria with a strained voice, “Why would you think that, Aria?”
Her eyes fall to her hands that are gripping Mr. Waffles tight. “’Cause he doesn’t come home until after I go to bed.”