Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(30)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Lizzie shrieked, tearing my attention from Claire. Lizzie giggled as she dodged a burst of water. “Catch me, Daddy!”

Christian chased her, his laugh loud and surprised as a stream of water struck him against the side of his face, then again on his chest, soaking his shirt.

Lizzie squealed and danced. “You got all wet, Daddy!” Christian darted for her, sweeping her from her feet and into his arms. He chuckled and teased. “And now I’m gonna get you all wet.”

Lizzie kicked her feet, howling with laughter and screaming no, Daddy, no, though it was clear she relished every second of it.

My depression grew just watching them. Lizzie had fal en in love with her father, the thing I’d feared most. I had no idea how she would survive once he was gone.

Claire interrupted my torment and uttered softly, “He’s a good man, Elizabeth.”

I closed my eyes against her words, angry tears breaking free and running hot down my face. I had spent the entire day holding in my pain, pretending it didn’t hurt to look at him, and I couldn’t contain it any longer. I was so scared, scared of the muddled mess of emotions swirling inside of me, scared of the part of me that wanted to believe he was a good man.

“I’m scared.” The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them.

She emitted a sad, slow sigh, her brow bowed in sympathy. “What he did to you was terribly wrong, Elizabeth, and I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do.

But I think you should know he’s regretted every day he’s spent without you, without his daughter.” I shook my head in vehemence, my voice sharpened with bitterness and laced with agony. “If he’d real y loved with bitterness and laced with agony. “If he’d real y loved me, he would have come back.”

She grimaced and nodded, though she wasn’t agreeing. “He should have.”

“Then why didn’t he?” Desperation oozed from me.

She glanced to where Christian and Lizzie played and back at me. “That’s something you’re going to have to ask him.” She looked back at her son and granddaughter playing, shaking her head. “I’ve never understood it myself.” Her voice was low, and I was unsure whether she’d meant for me to hear the last part.

“I’m not asking you to forget what he did, Elizabeth, but I am asking you to give him a chance to prove himself.” She wasn’t saying that she condoned what he’d done, nor did she condemn. She simply supported the son she loved.

Consumed with uncertainty, I watched the man who had crushed me and who still had control of my heart. I wanted to believe what Claire was tel ing me. Believe that he’d real y loved me, believe that he loved me now—most importantly that he’d never hurt me again. I just didn’t know if I ever could.

As if she had read my thoughts, Claire patted my hand, understanding thick in her words. “Sometimes forgiveness takes time.”

Heaviness settled in my chest, and I found it difficult to speak. “I don’t know if I can.”

“But you still love him,” she said.

I sighed and turned my face away. Loving Christian was something I’d never admit aloud, something I barely acknowledged in my own head. Sure, Matthew and Natalie knew, though it remained unspoken between us.

“I see it in the way you look at him,” she pressed on in conviction.

My silence could only affirm what she already knew.

Quiet settled over us as we watched Christian and Lizzie play. So much had changed in our years of separation, so much I didn’t understand. Somehow, her heart had softened and expanded while mine had grown hard and cynical. That prominent part of me screamed at how careless I was by exposing my feelings to Christian’s mother.

But for a few peaceful moments, I chose to ignore that voice and just absorb the solace lent in her words.

“Thank-you,” I whispered. I was thanking her for so many things, for the advice I wasn’t sure how to handle, for her compassion, for her understanding, for loving my daughter, for loving Christian—maybe even for loving me.

No doubt she’d already bound herself to my heart. Most of all , I was thanking her for showing me people had the ability to change.

Claire’s hand tightened over mine, and she shook her head slowly. “No, Elizabeth, thank-you.”

The arena was packed for the last show of the day, the sky darkened, the air chill ed. We squeezed into a middle row near the top. We were all worn out, Lizzie especial y.

Christian had carried her in his arms for the better part of an hour, and even though we all knew better, Lizzie had insisted she wasn’t tired at all and wanted to stay to see the nighttime Shamu show and fireworks.

Obviously, I wasn’t the only one she had wrapped around her finger.

Christian settled next to Claire with Lizzie on his lap, and I had no choice but to take the smal space beside him.

The afternoon had passed quickly this time as I’d paid purposeful attention to the way Christian interacted with my daughter. I’d forced myself to not to watch them through betrayed eyes but with an open mind; to see the clear adoration in his face as he watched everything she did, the way his eyes lit up when she spoke, the gentle way in which he held her, just as he did now. She was curled up on his lap, her eyes drooping in lazy contentment as we waited for the show to begin. She was asleep before the loudspeaker announced the start. Christian stared down at her, his expression worshipful as he swept her bangs from her eyes, a tender hand ran down the side of her face.

I swall owed the lump in my throat, struggling to accept what my scarred heart warred against.

He loved her.

He tilted his face to mine, his eyes raging, so many emotions swimming in their depths. “I love her so much, Elizabeth.” So many times, I’d heard him claim it as he told her goodbye, but this was the first time I believed it. He shifted her, cuddling her closer against his chest, turning away to press a kiss on her head. “So much,” he whispered, though this time the words were not intended for me.

I was sure the show was spel binding, a magical finale that would have fil ed the wide-eyed crowd with awe, though I wouldn’t have known. Staring unseeing ahead, I was unable to focus on anything but the ardor emanating from the man who sat beside me, cradling my child. As the show ended and gave way to fireworks brightening the sky, I lifted my face to the cool night air, closed my eyes, and for one minute let it all go. I was so tired of being angry and of living a guarded life. In that moment, I convinced myself that this constant worry couldn’t stop what was happening beside me, and for now, I would let Christian try to be a father. He might fail, and he might walk away, but I just couldn’t fight this any longer. I would give him that chance to prove himself.