Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(47)
Author: A.L. Jackson

With a shaky hand, I took them from her and set them aside. Elizabeth only watched the movement, still not meeting my eyes. I looked up at her and tried to get her to see me, to understand. “It was always hers, Elizabeth.” I touched the edge of the document that authorized the transfer of funds from my name to Elizabeth’s. The money was to be used for the care of Lizzie, and only Elizabeth’s signature was required to finalize it. The sum was significant, but as far as I was concerned, not nearly enough. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew the sheet below described the payments that would come out of my checks and be deposited into Elizabeth’s bank account now that I had started with the new firm.

Even if my father took everything else, Lizzie would have what was rightful y hers.

I knew wel enough that the lawsuit would never yield what it asked, that the huge number was there as a threat, a way for my father to hold his hand over me just for a little while longer.

Even so, both my attorney and I thought it safest if it official y rested in Elizabeth’s hands, in the hands that now shook as she fisted them and pressed them into her thighs.

“You can’t buy us, Christian,” she final y said as she pushed the papers away.

I rubbed a hand over my face, frustrated with the situation but not surprised by the backlash. This was exactly why I had said nothing, why I would have kept the money in my name had I been given any other choice.

Leaning in closer on my knee, I turned to face her while she tried to hide her sadness behind the wal of blond waves that concealed her face. With an unsteady hand, I reached out and brushed them back, hoping to coax her from her anger. “Elizabeth, baby, look at me.” She flinched at the affection, at the touch of my hand, at the endearment that fel from my lips so easily. It was one that had been uttered so many times before but never since she’d walked from my door years ago.

I withdrew my hand, cursing myself for the act that had felt so natural—comforting Elizabeth, loving her.

I shrank away from the rejection and looked to the floor as I choked through the words, offered more of my regret. “I just want to take care of my daughter.”

To take care of you.

She chewed on her bottom lip, fighting another round of tears, her jaw quivering. She looked at the papers on the table and then final y back at me when she asked, “How long?” It was an accusation.

“I don’t know”—I shrugged with vagueness—“A while now.”

She shook her head in clear irritation. “I asked how long, Christian.”

Sighing, I looked away and answered quietly, almost wishing she wouldn’t hear. “Five years.” Her expression raged from confused to hurt to bitter to broken. Like an idiot, I reached for her again. This time she jerked away and put a hand out to stop me. She closed her eyes, guarded herself, put the wal back in place. “I need you to leave.”

I opened my mouth desperate to reason with her, to make her understand what my intentions had been, but nothing would come.

Swal owing, I nodded and stood as it hit me just how badly her refusal had stung.

While there were so many things I had to apologize for, providing for my daughter wasn’t one of them.

I paused in the archway to look back at her, my voice sounding just as despondent as I felt. “If you don’t want the money, Elizabeth, then fine, don’t touch it. Save it until Lizzie turns eighteen; but one way or the other, it belongs to her.”

I knew she’d be upset, that every time money was mentioned, Elizabeth would tense, that she fought ferociously to be independent because she’d had to do it for so long. Even so, I’d believed we’d talk through it and together we’d make a plan for Lizzie’s future, for our future.

I guess I’d been a fool to think we’d come so far.

With my hopes crushed, I started my car and backed out of Elizabeth’s driveway.

I was halfway home when my phone rang. Elizabeth was on the other end sobbing. The only thing I understood her say was please come back.

Chapter 12

As I weaved my smal car through the traffic heading downtown, I felt a bit nervous, though I wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t spent almost every day with Christian for the past two months or more.

I’d just never been to his place before. Lizzie, on the other hand, could hardly contain herself.

“Mommy, look!” Lizzie squealed from the backseat. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see her pointing at one of the towering buildings ahead. “There’s Daddy’s house.” Her eyes were wide in anticipation, her body humming in excitement as she squirmed in her booster seat.

Tonight would be the first night she’d ever slept over at her father’s house.

Switching lanes, I pulled into the underground parking lot and entered the code Christian had given me.

Chuckling, I rushed to keep up with Lizzie as she unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her things. She swung her door open wide and stood impatiently at mine.

“Come on, Mommy!” She ran ahead, her backpack bouncing with each step, her dol tucked under her arm.

Adorable.

She pressed the button to the side of the elevator; it was obvious she was familiar with the routine. She was grinning as she yel ed, “Hurry up, Mommy!” She was forever excited to be with her father.

I wondered when that had stopped hurting.

I caught up to her and entered the elevator. We rode it the ten floors to Christian’s condo, and I fol owed her down the hal way to his door.

I went to knock, but Lizzie turned the knob before I could. She ran in unannounced, squealing her delight as she call ed out for her father. Christian didn’t seem surprised by her entrance but turned from where he sat on the couch, a computer resting on his lap, black-framed glasses on his eyes, and a welcome on his face.

Breathtaking.

I shook away the thought and instead, focused on my daughter’s joy.

Christian set his computer aside just in time for her to jump on his lap. “Hi, Daddy!”

“Hi, princess.” He nuzzled his nose in her hair, held her.

My chest swel ed as I watched them and internal y celebrated their reunion, thankful my daughter had this.

Christian looked over his shoulder and smiled at me from where I still stood in his doorway. “Hey, Elizabeth.”

“Hey.” I offered a smal smile and stepped forward. For the first time I took in my surroundings. It was the typical loft, one large room that served as living space and kitchen.

There was a hal off to the right that I assumed led to the bedrooms. The view of the ocean was beautiful, but the home on scale was much smal er than I’d expected, less assuming, warmer.