Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(36)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Instead, I said, “Starving.”

“Good.” She opened the oven door and leaned over to pul out a pan of homemade biscuits.

I had to look away, and my roving eyes drifted to the smal table in the kitchen nook. It was set for five. Suddenly, I became very uncomfortable.

“Uh, Elizabeth?”

“Yeah?” She stopped placing biscuits in a basket to look in my direction.

I gestured toward the table with my head. “Are you expecting company?”

Understanding dawned on her face. “Yeah, Matthew and Natalie come for breakfast every Sunday morning.” I roughed a hand through my hair. No further confrontations had taken place between Matthew and me since Lizzie’s birthday, but I wouldn’t say we were exactly friendly, either. I’d only seen him a handful of times in passing as I’d been picking up Lizzie or dropping her off, but each time he’d watched me with both suspicion and disdain.

Elizabeth looked at me as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. She pointed toward the bathroom. “You’d better hurry up and get changed; they’l be here any minute.” I knew then that I’d better get over it if I was going to be a part of Lizzie’s life.

I was only in the smal bathroom long enough to change into the clothes I’d worn the day before, brush my teeth, and to run wet hands through my hair in an attempt to tame the disaster on my head, but when I stepped out, Matthew and Natalie were already there.

From the archway, I watched the profuse apology Matthew gave Elizabeth while he held Lizzie in his arms, almost breathless in his explanation. “Elizabeth, I’m so sorry. Nat and I were at the movies last night, and I’d turned off my phone. I didn’t get the message until just before we got over here.”

Elizabeth tried to stop him. “Matthew . . . honestly . . . It was fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Elizabeth’s reassurance did nothing to ease his remorse. He hugged Lizzie to him. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie.” He seemed on the verge of tears.

“It’s okay, Uncle Maffew,” Lizzie promised as she nuzzled against his neck before sitting back and looking between Elizabeth and me. “My Mommy and Daddy took care of me.”

For the briefest moment, Matthew’s attention shifted from Lizzie to me. His expression was wary, but for the first time it lacked the contempt it normal y held. He opened his mouth as if to say something but turned away as Elizabeth made the call to breakfast.

I couldn’t help but feel out of place as the four of them settled into their usual spots without a thought. Matthew and Lizzie dove right into conversation as he asked for a play-by-play of the night before while he dug into the food spread out on the table in front of him. My feet were glued to the floor, and I watched them with benevolent envy, without spite or resentment, but covetous of the bond they had formed.

Elizabeth looked up from her seat, smothering me in the warmth in her gaze. She inclined her head, beckoning me to take the spot beside her.

As much as I felt like an outsider, my need to be a part of this family outweighed the discomfort I experienced as I walked across the room and pulled out the chair between Elizabeth and Lizzie.

Three pairs of eyes watched as I settled into my place, Natalie as if she’d always believed I belonged there, Matthew cautious, and Elizabeth with a hint of red on her cheeks. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one feeling self-conscious. But even if it was new and fil ed with uncertainty, it didn’t make it any less right.

Lizzie was the only one who didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary and continued with the animated description of the previous night, relieving some of the awkwardness.

With a quiet grin on my face, I listened to my daughter prattle on and was unable to contain the pleasure I felt as I fil ed my plate from the bowls Elizabeth passed my way. If Lizzie had been in distress the night before, I never would have known. Matthew and Natalie hung on her every word as they showered her with sympathy and cheered her for being such a brave girl as she recounted her experience.

By the look of my plate, I knew I appeared to be a glutton. The homemade breakfast was piled high, but I couldn’t resist. How many mornings had I woken up to Elizabeth cooking in that smal kitchen of my apartment back in New York? I was salivating by the time I bit into a biscuit dripping with butter and raspberry jam. A moan escaped me before I could stop it.

The voice beside me was so quiet I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. “They were always your favorite.” I tilted my head toward her, smiled softly, wished I had the freedom to reach out and touch her face, and whispered, “Thank-you for making them.”

I realized we were being watched, but I didn’t care. I’d chosen to stop being a coward the day I’d final y sought Elizabeth out, and if I had to lay my heart out in front of her family to show her I cared for her, that I had never forgotten her, through something as simple has homemade biscuits, I would do it.

“So, Christian . . . ,” Natalie said, cutting in before placing a forkful of eggs in her mouth. She chewed and swall owed before she continued. “What do you think of living in San Diego?” I looked across the table at her, aware she was trying to make me comfortable and welcome me into their circle. She’d always been kind to me, giving me the benefit while everyone else had remained in doubt.

My gaze flickered between the girls on my left and right before returning to rest on her. “I love it here.”

“Me too,” Lizzie added as she shoved half of a piece of bacon into her mouth.

Yes. I absolutely loved it here.

“And work?” Natalie asked.

“Uh . . .” Honestly, I real y didn’t know how to answer her. I knew I had a dream job, and I wished I could appreciate it more; but in the end, it real y only served to remind me of what I’d walked away from to attain it.

Natalie laughed. “Work’s work, right?”

I chuckled at her observation even though it went much deeper than the obvious. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Elizabeth tensed beside me as we broached what I knew was going to be a very touchy subject for us.

Elizabeth had never been in it for the money, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have aspirations. And she was right, what she’d said that afternoon—we could have figured it out.

Lizzie jumped on the topic. “At my Daddy’s work you can see the ocean and at his house too,” she said with wide-eyed exuberance. Months before, I’d taken Lizzie to my office to show her where I worked, and of course, she’d been to my condo a number of times. She’d clearly been impressed by the fact that they looked over the water and had declared that one day she’d live by the ocean, too. It was a wish I’d be all too happy to grant.