“It was six months ago,” I reply harshly.
“Well, I didn’t have your newest cell number. I ran into your mother last week and she gave it to me.”
Of course she fucking did.
“It wasn’t hers to give out,” I state firmly. She’s the last person I wanted to hear from.
“Look, Morgan…” I hear her hesitant breath through the phone, and I’m quick to cut her off.
“Don’t.” I hang up and let out a frustrated breath. She’s the last person I want to hear from or to have her pity. In fact, I didn’t want anyone’s pity. But Jennifer—the very person I was about to walk down the aisle with—I don’t want anything from her at all.
“Morgan?” I hear Natalia call out from the hallway.
“In here, Short Stuff.” I brush a hand over my face to wipe the firm lines off my face. The last thing I want is for her to worry about me when I’m always worrying about her. “Whatcha need?” I ask as soon as I see her waltz in.
She sits on a chair and shrugs her shoulders. “There’s a dance tomorrow night.”
“Oh?” I lift my brows. “What kind of dance?”
“It’s stupid.” She lowers her eyes.
“Natalia…what kind of dance?”
“It’s just a Valentine’s Dance.”
“You don’t want to go?”
“No, it’s stupid.” I notice the little wrinkles around her lips, and I know there has to be more to the story.
“Didn’t someone ask you to go with them?” I ask, wondering if eleven-year-olds still think boys have cooties or not. She stays silent, not moving or making a sound, and I know I’ve nailed the issue. “I take that as a no,” I say softly, hoping she’ll feel comfortable enough to talk to me about this. I know she’s grown up without a mom for half her life, so I assume her and Ryan were close and talked about everything. “Are you sure you don’t want to go and just hang out with your friends?”
She finally looks up at me with a scowl. “No. I said it’s stupid, okay?” She stands up and marches out of my office, and I’m left with my jaw on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. She’s the one who came looking for me in the first place and mentioned the dance. Did that mean she wanted to talk about it? Why else would she bring it up then?
I’m stumped as I try to think it through. I seriously have no clue what I’m supposed to do. Of course, she wants to go, but I guess the boy she wanted to ask her hasn’t asked her yet?
Ah, fuck if I know.
I turn my laptop off and walk out to find her. She’s in the living room flipping through channels, staring at the TV as if her life depends on it. I know she hears me walk in, but she doesn’t acknowledge it.
I grab my keys off the counter and shout, “Come on. Let’s go.”
She finally looks up at me, dumbfounded. “Where?”
“To the store. You need a dress, don’t you?”
Her face drops. “Do you have wax in your ears? I said I wasn’t going.” She turns away again. I don’t know if this is where I should be handing her a pint of Ben & Jerry’s or a magazine or something, but I’m not about to let Natalia mope around all night when I know deep down she wants to go.
I walk toward her, grab the remote out of her hand and switch the TV off. “Hey!” she screeches, but I ignore it. I grab her by the arms, lift her up and toss her over my shoulder. “What are you doing?” she screams, kicking her legs and hitting me with her pathetic little fists. “Put me down!”
“What? What was that? I can’t hear you over all the wax in my ears!” I walk out to the car and throw her in the passenger seat. “Buckle up.” I grin at her before slamming the door, and she flashes me a death glare.
I get in the driver’s side and start the engine. I have no idea where to buy a dress for a girl, so I quickly call up my mother.
“Hello, darling,” she answers.
I’m in a hurry, so I bypass all the ritual greetings. “Where do I go to buy a dress for Natalia?”
“Oh! What’s the occasion?”
“A school dance. Where do I go?”
“I’d go to Petunia’s on Stanley and Rivers. Does she need her hair done?” I turn and glance at her. Her hair is up in one of those messy knots. “Yes.”
Two grueling hours later, I’m back home with a half-satisfied eleven-year-old and an appointment to get her hair done tomorrow afternoon. She’s pretending to be annoyed by my persistence, but I notice the corner of her lips tilting from the smile she’s trying to hide.
As I’m tucking her in for the night, I kiss her forehead and say goodnight. She mumbles a response and just before I head out, she calls out my name.
“Yes?” I turn and ask.
I can’t see her eyes because she’s buried herself in the blankets, but she mumbles back a response. “Thank you.”
The corner of my lips tilts up as I stare at the back of her head. “Anytime, Short Stuff.”
The more I think about her, the more I think I’m going crazy.
I left California for this very reason.
To get away. To never get hurt again. To avoid putting myself out there and feeling vulnerable around someone again.
But she makes me want to risk it. Not only my heart but everything that I’d jeopardize as well.
Instead, I worry about hurting her. Aspen Evans could very well be the woman to bring me back to life or the woman to destroy me. The real question is would she ever consider letting someone like me in? My past has held me back in a lot of ways, but besides that, I’m raising an eleven-year-old child. Aspen’s so much younger than I am with a whole world of possibilities in front of her. Would she even take the chance?
Better yet, could I even let her knowing that I’d possibly be holding her back?
The self-doubt eats at me as I think it all through, but the more I think about it, the more I’m certain I’ve lost my mind.
Besides that, right now I have Natalia and the fact that she is going to her very first school dance tonight. I don’t know how to feel about that, honestly. I’m freaking out. Add one more thing to the pile of things I’m not sure I’m doing right when it comes to raising her. At least my mom could help get her ready, which speaking of…
“Come on, let me see!” I call out again, groaning at how long they’ve been. Natalia’s been in her room for hours with my mom. She got her hair and nails done this afternoon, so I can’t imagine what’s taking so long.
“Just one more minute!” I hear my mom call back.
I can’t hold in my sigh, but it’s not in frustration, it’s from the ache in my chest. This moment of seeing Natalia dressed up and ready for her first dance is something that Ryan should’ve been able to experience with her. He’d be so proud of his little girl but probably ready to threaten any little boys who tried to dance with his baby.
Today really hits home that her dad won’t be around for all of these important milestones. I worry that all these special events in her life will be tainted with sadness because he isn’t here. When I came back, I made the decision to dedicate my entire life to making sure Nat was taken care of and help her heal so she can thrive, but moments like this break my heart.
I grab a beer from the fridge, and by the time I slam the door shut, I see her walking toward me. She’s absolutely glowing in a sparkling blue gown with her hair up in curls and light makeup. Her smile is so wide, nearly touching her eyes.
“Wow…” I smile. “You look beautiful, Shorty.” She blushes, and I know she’s going to have an amazing time.
“Thanks.” She smiles wide again. “And thank you for doing this.” She brushes her hand casually along her dress. “Even if I think this whole dance thing is stupid.” She purses her lips together but tilts one side up in a crooked smile.
“Well, even if it’s stupid, at least you’ll look good doing it.”
She laughs and wraps her hands around me. “Thank you, Uncle Morgan.”
“You’re welcome, Natalia.” I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. “We should get going.”