Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(17)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I pushed to my feet and marched upstairs. Once in my room, I dug through my purse on the floor and retrieved my cel phone. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I dialed the same number that had caused me a near anxiety attack every time it had rang over the last week. It was late, and I prayed it would go straight to voice mail.

I lost my voice and nearly my nerve when Christian answered. Warmth spread through my body with the sound of his voice. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook the foolish reaction away. I hated him, I reminded myself, and he was dangerous. No matter what feelings I still harbored for him, I could not forget those two crucial truths.

Chapter 05

Lying on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, clueless as to where to go from here. I knew I should give up, stand down, but found myself unable to entertain the thought of not seeing Lizzie again.

I rol ed over and buried my face in my pil ow, hoping to find answers there. None came. I lifted my head to my nightstand, looking at the clock that read twelve thirty-seven. It was late in San Diego and much later in Virginia, but there was no one else who would understand. Making a quick decision, I sat up on the side of my bed, picked up my phone, and dialed. She answered on the first ring.

“Christian, what’s wrong?” Mom’s voice was raspy from sleep, but her mind was clear enough to know I would not have call ed her in the middle of the night if something weren’t wrong.

I uttered the first words that came to mind. “Mom, they’re here.” Silence hovered thick in the air. The miles between us were fil ed with an unspoken language, soundless joy and overwhelming regret.

Final y, Mom spoke when the shock wore off, and I could tel she was crying. “Tel me about my grandchild.” I cleared my throat of some of the emotion, just enough to speak. “Her name is Lizzie.”

Claire whimpered, causing my chest to constrict further. The gathering of moisture in my eyes brought me as close to crying as I had since I’d been a smal boy. My voice was ful of adoration as I described to my mother our first encounter, how I’d known I was connected to the child the first time I saw her, how I’d fal en in love with her in the same moment.

My tone became alarmed as I told her of going to their house and about Elizabeth sending me away. My distress increased to near hysteria when I got to the part about going to her work.

“Mom, Elizabeth hates me.” Her assertion that afternoon had devastated me. To have injured this beautiful creature to the extent that she hated me—I couldn’t bear to think of the pain I’d caused her.

“She’s angry with you, Christian, and she has every right to be, but I can’t believe that she hates you.” I shook my head against the phone. Mom hadn’t seen Elizabeth’s face. I knew what she had said was true.

Mom sighed. “Christian, I’m not going to lie to you to make you feel better. What you did to her was terrible . . .hurtful, and you’re going to have to realize you can’t undo almost six years of wrong in a day. You’re going to have to be patient.”

I fidgeted uncomfortably. I didn’t want to be patient. I wanted my daughter.

“Think about it. She hasn’t heard from you since the day you essential y kicked her out, and then out of the blue you show up at her house. She has to be shocked, and honestly, probably a little scared of the way you’ve been acting. She doesn’t know your intentions. If I were her, I’d probably react the same way.”

Resigned, I lay back against my bed, rubbing my eye with the heel of my hand. Mom was right. Elizabeth was probably freaking out. I’d been acting like a lunatic, showing up at her house unannounced, call ing incessantly, and going to her work. I shook my head at my stupidity.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I could almost feel Mom relax through the phone as she realized she was getting through to me. “I know, Mom. I just want to fix this so bad. What if she won’t give me the chance?” Mom’s voice was soft, comforting. “I know you do. But you need to take a step back . . . give her some space to breathe. She wil have built her own life, one without you in it; and it’s going to take some time for her to find a place where you do fit in it.” She paused, giving me time to absorb what she was saying. When she spoke again, her voice was still sympathetic but firm. “You owe her that time, Christian.”

This was exactly why I’d call ed my mother. She always had a way of putting things into perspective when I couldn’t see it. “You’re right. I promise I’l give her some time.” Claire’s satisfaction traveled through the phone. “You’l make this right. You’l see.”

I couldn’t help but grin. How many times had she encouraged me to make it right? I just hoped one day Elizabeth would actual y let me. I sighed.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Now hang in there a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” I promised. “Sorry, I call ed so late.” I could hear my mother shaking her head. “Don’t apologize. I’m here for you . . . always.”

“I love you Mom.” It meant so much to me to be able to say those words to my mother, free and without hesitation.

“I love you, so much, Christian.” It meant even more for her to say them back to me. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night.”

Pacified, I placed my phone on the nightstand and curled into my pil ow. I could rest with having a plan, with having some insight, some guidance. I would give Elizabeth some time to deal with my resurgence in her life, and then I would slowly try to make contact with her. Like my mom said, I owed her this.

Drifting toward sleep, I jerked, startled by a vibration on the nightstand. I grinned when I realized where the offending noise was coming from and answered the phone, eager to hear whatever advice Mom had forgotten to tel me.

“Hel o?” I mumbled through my sleepy smile.

Where I anticipated hearing my mother’s voice, there was silence. “Hel o?” I asked again, my stomach suddenly uneasy. I pulled the phone from my ear, checking the number I’d paid no attention to when I’d answered. My heart almost stopped.

“Elizabeth?” I pled, more terrified than excited to hear her voice, having no idea why she would suddenly be call ing me wel after midnight.

After what seemed like a forever, she final y spoke, her words teeming with disdain. “If you real y want to see Lizzie, meet me at the McDonald’s on Fairmount and University at five thirty on Saturday.”