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At first, I mean to just pat her back and reassure her that we’re good. But something inside me snarls,That’s not good enough!and instantly pulls her into my arms to hug her tight. I scoop herup onto my lap to cradle her as she cries, kissing the top of her head and murmuring things she deserves to hear.
“You didn’t do anything, Willow. At all. I’m the one who messed up. I’m the one who was mean, and I am so sorry. I am so deeply sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of that. I made a huge mistake and… God, I am so fucking sorry.”
Yes, I dropped an f-bomb for this kid. She needs to know how deep my guilt—and my sincerity—runs.
Willow sniffles and hiccups a bit more. “I miss you,” she manages to whimper.
“I miss you, too.” Saying it aloud makes me realize I really mean it. I’ve missed my sweet little Willow and hearing her laughter, watching her play, and just…
Fuck.
I miss being a family.
The fact that it’s taken losing Clara and smashing the innocent heart of a little girl to realize what I had—and how good I had it—is just a testament to how much I deserve that life.
Which is: none at all.
“I miss Mommy.”
Shit.I’m not ready for this conversation. I can barely have it with myself, let alone with this mini-Clara who officially has me wrapped around her little finger.
“Why did Mommy leave without me?”
Because I’m a dumbass, kiddo.
I tuck her into my chest more as I slowly get up off the lounge chair. “Come on; it’s bedtime.”
Willow doesn’t protest. She simply nestles into my warmth and lets me carry her back to her solarium bedroom. But before I can put her down, she clings to my shirt. “Will you stay with me? Please?”
I’m instantly tired. I want to sleep. I don’t want to walk an unsteady tightrope over the delicate-yet-vague details of her mother’s sudden disappearance.
But who else will make sure she falls asleep? I’m the asshole who got rid of the woman who used to do this on a nightly basis.
So I stifle my groan and settle us into the hammock. It’s the perfect choice: it’s comfortable, it rocks, and it’s easy for Willow to snuggle under the warm blanket I wrap around her while I stroke her hair and gaze up at the stars.
As ifthey’regoing to help me.
“Demmy?”
“Yeah?”
“When’s Mommy coming home?”
I truly, deeply wish I had an answer for that. “I don’t know, kiddo.”
Willow seems to think about that for a while. “What if she never comes back?”
“What makes you think that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.” Her voice is so soft and low, like she’s scared to tell me. “Please don’t make me go back with Martin.”
I go still. Then, with every ounce of sincerity within me, I make her one promise I know I will keep without hesitation. “I won’t make you go back there. And I won’t ever let him get you.”
Willow peers up at me. I know she’s looking for any sign of deception in my face, and I don’t blame her. I’ve broken far too many vows for her to believe this one is any different. “You promise?”
I tuck a curly strand of hair behind her ear and nod. “I swear it. And the oath of apakhanis something that cannot be broken.”
Big words from an even bigger liar. At least, that’s how I’m feeling these days. It’s true—when thepakhanof a Bratva makes an oath to his people, it’s unbreakable.
