Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(19)
Author: A.L. Jackson

“Lizzie, please eat your dinner.”

Affectionately, I patted my daughter’s side, gesturing with my head toward her food. As much as I didn’t want break the connection we’d just shared, the bond we were building, I hoped to keep from upsetting Elizabeth any more than I already had.

Eating in front of Elizabeth felt odd. We’d shared what seemed like a mil ion meals before, but now I felt extremely self-conscious as I took smal bites of my burger, feeling on edge as silence loomed over the table. Elizabeth appeared even more uncomfortable, probably because of the glances I kept sneaking at her every chance I got.

I had missed her so badly, never imagining I’d see her again. My eyes wandered over her face, taking in the changes and all that remained the same. She was thinner now, her cheekbones more prominent but not to the point of appearing unhealthy as she did when I had seen her just appearing unhealthy as she did when I had seen her just weeks before she had given birth to Lizzie. Her hair was mostly the same, still dark blond and woven with natural highlights just a shade lighter than the rest, though she now wore long bangs that continual y seemed to fal over her eyes. When she’d push them aside, I would glimpse a foreign scar that ran just above her left eye. My gut wrenched with the possibilities of where it had come from. I stayed away from her honey-colored eyes as much as possible, not wishing to see the repulsion I knew I would find there.

Lizzie ate her nuggets and apples quietly, almost reserved, as if she could sense the tension in the air.

Hugging her body closer, I tried to pul her attention away from the sad place her mind seemed to have gone and whispered against her head, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

She turned to me, her expression hopeful. “Real y?” I wanted to ask her why she would think I wouldn’t be, but I already knew the answer. Instead, I reassured her with a resolute nod of my head. “Real y.”

With that, her insecurities seemed to fade away, and she launched into what seemed to be an impromptu game of twenty questions. She would ask me something, and after I answered, I would ask her a variation of the same question in return. It made me terribly sad that I was asking my daughter these things for the first time when she was almost five years old, but the fact remained that I didn’t know what she did on a daily basis, her favorite foods, her favorite places. I didn’t know what made her scared or favorite places. I didn’t know what made her scared or made her cry. I learned today that it was seeing her mommy cry. I wanted to tel her it made me sad, too, but couldn’t find the courage to say it aloud.

Elizabeth squirmed through our conversation, never offering an opinion and only answering when Lizzie specifical y asked something of her. Many times, she looked away, holding her jaw rigid, though it still shook as she seemed to struggle through every minute of the conversation Lizzie and I shared. The only time she added anything was when Lizzie asked me where I lived, and I told her down near the water on Harbor. Elizabeth huffed and visibly rol ed her eyes as she mouthed a sarcastic “nice.” I winced, expecting her anger but not her spite.

Lizzie, on the other hand, was thril ed to hear I lived by the water. She bounced in her seat as she squealed, “You live at the beach?”

Lizzie kept up an almost constant chatter as we ate—not that I minded. She had the sweetest voice I’d ever heard. She drifted closer the longer we talked, so close she was nearly sitting in my lap by the time she finished off her last nugget. She continual y smiled and constantly reached out to touch my face and hug my neck.

I felt so unworthy of the affection she gave. She loved so freely, trusted so easily. Would she feel the same when the innocence of her mind faded away, when she understood the meaning of betrayal?

“All done,” she sang as she swall owed her last bite.

“Can I play now, Momma?”

Elizabeth nodded tightly. It was apparent she would Elizabeth nodded tightly. It was apparent she would prefer not to be left alone with me. I, on the other hand, had been praying I’d have a chance to talk to her in private.

Lizzie started to scramble down, but she paused and looked at me. “Daddy, is it okay if I play now?” Trying to be discrete, I glanced over to Elizabeth, sure the simple sentence would cause her great distress, before uttering softly, “Of course, sweetheart.” I understood what that sentence meant. She had accepted me, not only as her daddy, but also as her parent. Clearly, Elizabeth understood it too. Her face flashed red, burning resentment.

I watched my daughter until she disappeared into a red tube before I slowly turned to face Elizabeth. She leaned heavily on the table, staring at a fry she absentmindedly swirled in ketchup.

“Elizabeth,” I said tentatively, hoping for once to have a civil discussion with her. She lifted her head, leveling her eyes at me. I sighed, averting my gaze as I ran my hand over the back of my neck, trying to chase away some of the tension before I gathered enough courage to look directly at her.

“Thank-you.” I needed her to know how grateful I was that she was giving me a chance, even if it didn’t seem like she real y wanted to give it.

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice now, did you, Christian?” she said, her voice low and ful of hostility.

I shook my head, stupefied. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you joking?” she asked incredulously, hissing,

“You’re real y going to sit there and act like you didn’t threaten to take me to court if I didn’t all ow you to see her?” Shit. I should have known. The idle threat I’d made was the only reason I’d been all owed to see my daughter.

Elizabeth hadn’t chosen to let me see Lizzie. She felt she’d been forced to.

What an ignorant ass**le I continual y proved to be.

For one brief, self-indulgent moment, I considered not making the correction.

But while I wanted nothing more than to see Lizzie, to have a relationship with her, and to be a part of her life, there was no way I could go on with Elizabeth living in fear that one day I would try to take Lizzie away from her. If I were ever going to earn her trust back, I would have to start by being honest.

“No, Elizabeth.” I leaned into the table, speaking barely above a whisper, “I won’t do that. I was upset that you weren’t returning my call s, and . . . I . . . I just got caught up in the moment, and it came out. I won’t put you through that .. . I won’t.” I made the promise as I searched her face, praying she’d believe what I said, and praying even harder she wouldn’t be angered further by the realization that she’d essential y been tricked into this meeting. When I’d threatened to bring the courts into it while I was at her work, I’d immediately wished I could take the words back. Law was what I knew, what came natural y, and it had dropped from my mouth before I could stop it. I would never want to put Elizabeth through something as harrowing as a child custody battle. I was certain we could work this out between us.