Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(72)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Honestly, I had no idea what to do with her as she sat silently in my living room, had no idea whether I wanted to scream at her or thank her, whether I should tel her to leave or her beg her to stay.

When Lizzie final y settled down, I pulled away and smiled at her, touched her nose in a playful way, desperate for some sort of normalcy with my daughter. “Are you hungry, baby girl?”

She nodded and smiled a real smile of tiny gapped teeth and dimples.

“Come here.” I helped her from the counter and led her to the refrigerator. There was little there, mostly delivery leftovers I’d ordered and hadn’t been able to stomach over the last week. In the microwave, we heated up orange chicken and rice from the Chinese place down the street while we shared smal smiles and tender embraces that still bore the sadness of our separation. I fixed her a plate and set it in front of her. Kissing her on top of her head, I whispered, “Here you go, sweetheart.”

She grinned up at me. “Thanks, Daddy.”

We ate together side-by-side with my arm wrapped possessively over her shoulder. We sat with our backs to Elizabeth because I wasn’t ready to face her any more than she was ready to face me. Between bites, Lizzie and I murmured words of love and encouragement to each other and little things I hoped would restore her confidence.

She’d smile up at me while she chewed, though I could still sense her wariness in the way she clung to the hem of my shirt and watched me as if I might suddenly disappear.

I swall owed down the anger it provoked, reminding myself that I had to accept the fact that part of this had been my fault too.

Lizzie ate her entire plate plus a bowl of vanil a ice cream that had been left over from the last dinner we’d shared here when we’d laughed and made sundaes. She fed me little bites with her spoon and giggled, and for the first time, I smiled, unrestrained and uninhibited as I leaned in to tickle her tummy.

“I love you so much, Lizzie.”

She climbed onto my lap, kissed my cheek, sat back, and grinned. “I love you even more, Daddy.” I laughed with the game she wanted to play, knowing I had already won because there were no bounds to how much I loved my child, but teased and poked her bel y anyway. “Nu-uh, I love you more.”

“Well, I love you this much, Daddy.” She spread her tiny arms wide, and I wrapped her in mine.

I flipped off the light switch in the smal second bedroom.

When I had bought this place, I could never have imagined it would eventual y become Lizzie’s room. There was a warm glow resonating through my body, a peace that she final y was here. I’d lain beside her until I was sure she was in a deep sleep, sure that she felt safe and loved and secure. When the fists curled in my shirt final y loosened, and her soft breaths spread out in an even rhythm over my face, I’d slowly risen from the tiny twin bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and kissed her for what seemed the mil ionth time that day. I would have been content to watch her sleep all night, but it was time to confront what was waiting for me in the other room.

At the end of the hal , I stopped and looked out to where Elizabeth sat at one end of the couch in the muted light of my living room. Her back was to me, though I saw her face reflected in the darkened panes of the windows— so sad and forever beautiful.

I swall owed, and she looked up and caught me staring at her in the glass—so incredibly sad. I wanted to wipe her sadness away, but I now doubted that I ever could.

I moved to the opposite end of the couch, sat on the edge of the cushion, and slouched over my thighs with my hands dangling between my knees. There was so much to say, but I had no idea where we’d ever begin, and I feared that this may very wel be the end. Minutes passed by while nothing was said, the room quiet except for the sound of our breathing in the sadness and apprehension that hung stagnant in the air.

“I’m sorry, Christian,” Elizabeth suddenly said, her raspy voice cutting through the strained silence. She looked down at her fists clenched in her lap and whispered lower,

“I’m so, so sorry.”

From the side, I appraised her curled up in a tight bal on my couch, appearing so smal and defeated, and I wished desperately to believe what she said.

“Are you?” I lashed out, my tongue unexpectedly sharp and severe.

She winced with the words, pressed the pads of her fingertips deep into the hol ows beneath her eyes, and wiped at the tears that seemed to have fal en endlessly since she’d walked through my door hours before. “Yes.” I searched her face for honesty and found no deceit, just a broken girl who was hurting just as badly as I was.

“What did I do wrong, Elizabeth? I . . . I thought we . . . ,” I begged.

She pinched her eyes shut, her beautiful face wasted and worn, my offense aged and old. “You left me.” I leaned against the back of the couch and dragged both hands through my hair, as I blew the air from my lungs toward the ceiling. I looked back at her and gave my surrender through a whispered apology. “I know I did, Elizabeth, but I can’t take it back. God knows, I wish I could, but I abandoned you, and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that now.”

As painful as it was, I ignored the part of me that wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort her, to take away her sadness, the part that loved her and wanted to beg her to give us a chance. It was time to give up that piece of my heart and accept that I’d done too much damage, it would never be erased, and I’d never be forgiven.

“I can’t do this anymore, Elizabeth . . . you run every time we get close. I . . . can we just . . . just forget about what happened last weekend? Go back to being friends for the sake of Lizzie? Because I won’t live without her, and I refuse to all ow what happened this last week to ever happen again.”

What appeared as grief rocked her body, and she wheezed over broken, strangled words. “Is that real y what you want?”

“God, Elizabeth . . . I . . . of course not . . .” I looked at her and touched my chest in sincerity. “I’m in love with you.

Do you still refuse to believe that?” I shook my head, pushed forward through the anguish of my concession, the devastation that blazed as I let go of the only woman I had ever loved—the only woman I would ever love. “But Lizzie’s happiness comes first . . . before you . . . before me.” For a few painful moments, we sat in silence, Elizabeth’s mouth twisted in shame before she final y swall owed, licked her lips, and labored through halting words. “I love you, Christian . . . so much . . . and . . . and I don’t want to give that up . . . I don’t want to give us up.” Her eyes were closed eyes as if shielding herself from my reaction or maybe from her own admission.