Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(28)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Jumping up, Lizzie squealed, “Daddy’s here!” She struggled to reach the lock, unlatching it just as the doorbel rang. She threw herself into Christian’s open arms, and he scooped her up.

“Good morning, baby girl.” He looked over her shoulder at me as he hugged her close. “Good morning, Elizabeth.”

“Good morning,” I mumbled as I grabbed my backpack and purse and headed toward the door. Christian put Lizzie back on her feet and took her hand.

I swall owed hard, feeling my face heat with my thoughts.

I swore he was doing it on purpose, the way he wore his black T-shirt taut over the obvious definition of his chest and stomach, his dark jeans slung low on his hips. Forcing my eyes closed, I fought to remember what I felt when I’d left his apartment that final time, what he had said, opening them to remember why I hated this man. I squared my shoulders, and strode toward the door with my resolve firmly set in place.

As Christian and Lizzie walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk, I locked the door, bracing myself for the anger I knew would come when I came face-to-face with Christian’s mother.

I took the ten steps down the sidewalk and froze when I rounded the corner to the driveway. Claire stood in front of Christian’s car with Lizzie in her arms, her face buried in Lizzie’s neck. Claire looked up, tears glistening in her eyes, a mixture of joy and pain on her face.

Instantly, a lump formed in my throat. How could she hold my daughter like that after she’d rejected her all these years? I didn’t understand this, any of it—Christian, his mother, how I felt, the sympathy that surged through me when I saw Claire’s face. I didn’t want to care.

With what seemed like great reluctance, Claire set Lizzie down. I stiffened as she approached me. Her hair had grayed, but shimmered in the tight ponytail she wore it in, her face virtual y unmarred from wrinkles; the few around her eyes and mouth were subtle and soft. Her eyes were just as blue as Christian’s, just as intense, just as warm.

She was beautiful, incredibly so, but in an entirely different way than I remembered. The conceit was gone, in its place a gentleness I’d never associated with this woman.

She stopped two feet away from me, seeming unsure.

Her bottom lip trembled when she said, “Thank-you, Elizabeth.” She stepped forward, grabbing my limp hand and squeezing it. “Thank-you.”

I shook my head in misunderstanding and took a smal step back. I was not sure whether I was wil ing to accept her thanks. Her mouth fel into a smal , sad smile, and she squeezed my hand again before she dropped it and turned away.

Christian was buckling Lizzie into a booster seat in the backseat on the driver’s side of his car, the two of them raving about how excited they were. Christian had never been to Sea World, and he deemed Lizzie his tour guide, tickling her as he made her promise to show him all of her favorite things. Claire laughed and joined in on their banter as she climbed into the front passenger seat.

Sucking in a deep breath, I forced myself to walk around to the opposite side of the car to take my place next to Lizzie. I slunk down into the black leather seats, feeling the most uncomfortable I’d ever felt in my life. I didn’t belong here. Lizzie didn’t belong here. We’d been thrown aside, and now here we were, giving ourselves over to Christian’s mercy. It was so wrong. How I wished I could take back the decision I’d made to all ow him to see Lizzie in the first place. He would have given up by now, and Lizzie and I would be living the quiet life I’d built for us, not waiting for the bottom to drop out of it.

In silence, I listened as Christian, Claire, and Lizzie chattered nonstop. Claire asked Lizzie countless questions about her life, what she liked, what she didn’t like. Claire sat sideways in her seat, her attention focused on my child and her son. The hardest to hear were the stories she told Lizzie of Christian when he was a child. Adoration radiated from her as she described a curious little boy, how inquisitive he had been and the trouble it had continual y gotten him in. Claire would reach out and caress Christian’s shoulder or his forearm and sometimes even held his hand.

I stared at them, unable to comprehend what was happening in front of me. It was as if she wasn’t even the same woman. The woman I had known, Christian had been little more than indifferent to, and I’d all but despised her, believing in my heart that she didn’t even love her own child.

But now—I shook my head, embarrassed when I caught Christian’s eye in the rearview mirror when I did so, even though I couldn’t look away. He smiled softly, as if he were reiterating that she wasn’t who I thought she was, that she was wonderful and lovely and that I shouldn’t try to stop the fondness for her building up within me.

I tore my attention away, forcing it out the window to the world happening outside this car because it was impossible to bear what was happening inside. I wiped the tears that began to run down my face, tears of frustration for being thrown into the midst of this reunion, tears of anger that it was happening now, five years late, and worst of all , tears of relief shed for the knowledge that Christian’s mother loved him. Those tears scared me most.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the vast parking lot of Sea World, already overflowing with cars. The three of them scrambled out. I stal ed, taking my time to adjust my backpack while I tried to get myself together.

The cool morning mist had begun to dissipate, and bright rays of sunlight broke through, warming my skin. If we were here under any other circumstances, I would have thought this was the perfect day to spend here.

“Mommy, are you coming?” Lizzie yel ed over her shoulder, looking back at me from where Claire and Christian had her flanked, a hand in each of theirs and standing about fifty feet away.

Nodding, I slung my backpack over my shoulders.

“Right behind you.” Christian grinned in what could only be construed as pure excitement, while Claire gazed back somewhat sympathetical y as if she knew how hard this was on me, though I was sure no one else could understand the kind of torture this would be.

I stayed at least ten steps behind them, careful to keep a distance. Lizzie squealed with delight as they traveled across the parking lot. Christian and Claire swung her into the air every few steps. Their laughter rang out, high and low, melodious—joyous—a stark contrast to the resentment I felt inside. I couldn’t believe Christian was carrying on as if this were normal, as if I belonged here with them, as if he hadn’t bul dozed me into suffering through this day.