The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes (25 page)

Undoubtedly, I had broken a part of my daughter’s heart by sending her inside, but what I was protecting her from was so much greater than that. Her innocent mind could not begin to fathom the hurt this man would ultimately bring her.

Slowly, I turned back to Christian, struggling to appear strong, to be forceful, and to make him understand he was not welcome here. My knees were shaking almost as much as my bottom lip and I was certain he knew I was anything but. Every emotion I’d ever experienced boiled just under the surface—the love, the hate, the fear, the loss, and most of all, the betrayal—the turmoil within causing my body to tremble with rage.

He looked at me, his expression remorseful, earnest—hopeful even. It made me furious. Standing in front of me was the man who had left me to raise a child on my own, certainly
never giving us a second thought. Now he stood just feet from me, expectant, as if Lizzie and I owed him something.

Unbelievable.

“How dare you.” The words were not what I expected to flood from my mouth, but they were fitting. How dare he show up here at my house after what he’d done. Quickly, I wiped my tears, trying to erase them from my face. He didn’t even deserve them. He deserved nothing.

“Elizabeth.” His eyes filled with emotion that I had once believed to be genuine, a softness that spoke of love and loyalty, but I knew now it was nothing more than a tool of manipulation. I refused to fall victim to it again.

“How dare you come here.” I stood up taller in an attempt to stand my ground.

What I said did nothing to sway Christian from whatever purpose had brought him here, and he took another step into the street. I began to panic, my mind grasping for anything that would make him comprehend just how serious I was. “If you take one more step, I’ll call the cops.”

Christian halted in the middle of the street, looking shocked and a little bit frustrated as he roughed his hand through his black hair. He shook his head, the pain in his voice catching me off guard.

“Elizabeth, I’m not going to hurt you.” His words brought me firmly back to reality.

A barking, contemptuous laugh escaped my lips. “You’re not going to
hurt
me?” I looked him in the eye, making sure he understood. “Nobody has ever hurt me as much as you hurt me, Christian.
No one.”
Yes, I sounded like a lover scorned, but that was exactly what I was. “Now I want you to leave.”

“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry . . . It was my fault . . . I know . . . Please.” I watched as he stumbled over himself, tried to
apologize as if any excuse he could give would gain him access into our lives. I refused to believe his lies. Once I would have trusted him with my life, but now I knew better. I’d never allow my daughter or myself to be put in the position for Christian to freely dispose of us again.

“Leave.”

“Please, Elizabeth. I need to see my daughter.”

His daughter? All these years I had known Christian to be a selfish man, but I could never have imagined the depths it went to. I swallowed hard, shaking my head at his impudence, unable to believe what he had just said. “She’s not your daughter. She’s
my
daughter.” He could apologize all he wanted, but it would never change what he did. He had discarded us and he had no right in our lives.

I turned and left him standing there. I couldn’t bear to be in his presence a moment longer.

Lizzie was at the window, appearing wounded and frightened by events she couldn’t understand. In just five minutes, Christian had managed to throw my family into complete turmoil, and I had no idea how to repair the damage he had already done. All I knew was that my daughter was hurting. I rushed inside and pried her away from the window. At first she resisted, struggling in my arms to get back to him, before she buried her face in my neck. I could feel her confusion, the way she needed me to comfort her all the while being drawn to the man outside. Her tears ran down my neck and onto my shirt. I shushed her as I rocked her, holding her with one arm while my free hand ran from the top of her head and down her back over the silky strands of her hair.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I murmured against her head. “It’s going to be okay.”

She pulled back, her perfect face tearstained and broken, and asked me the one question I felt incapable of answering. “Mommy, who is that man?”

How could I tell her that the man I had just sent away was her father or deal the questions that were sure to follow? Instead, I pressed my lips to her forehead and whispered, “Mommy loves you so much, Lizzie.”

She nodded against them as if her four-year-old mind understood that I was asking her for time, that my heart was not yet ready to break hers any further. She clung to my neck desperately as I hugged her, before I reluctantly set her on the floor.

“Can you be a big girl for Mommy and go upstairs and play in your room until dinner is ready?” I caressed her cheek as I implored with my eyes. She gazed up at me, never looking more like Christian than in that moment. I smiled sadly at her, wishing that it didn’t hurt so much.

She cast one last glance toward the window before looking back at me. “Okay, Mommy.”

Once she was safely upstairs, I cautiously peered through the curtains, praying that Christian was gone, though intuitively knowing he was not. He sat in his car, his gaze meeting mine, his eyes pleading for forgiveness while mine silently begged him to just leave us alone.

~

Dinner was quiet. Lizzie said very little the entire evening other than, “Thank you, Momma,” when I set her small plate of lasagna down in front of her. Neither of us ate much, and I knew her mind was focused just as much on what had happened this afternoon as mine was. I owed her an answer to her question, but I still hadn’t found the right way to tell her.

We went through our normal evening routine, albeit halfheartedly. Her nightly bath lacked the normal giggles and
splashes, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t want a bedtime story. She climbed into her bed, and I pulled the covers up over her chest and kissed her softly on the head. I hoped she would snuggle into her pillow and yawn the way she usually did, but instead she looked up at me, waiting. I sank onto my knees beside her bed, knowing I could put this off no longer. I opened my mouth, searching for the right way to tell her, but she spoke first.

“Was that my Daddy?” All the air left me as her timid, soft words came like a whisper into her dim room. They were filled with such hope, and now I could do nothing other than crush that hope just as soon as it had been born.

A single tear slid down my face as I nodded. Swallowing, I looked around the room as I tried to gather enough courage to speak. Finally, I turned back to her. “Yes, baby, it was.” Lizzie knew little of Christian. She had asked once, right after she had started preschool. She had wanted to know why she didn’t have a daddy like the rest of the kids. I had only told her that her father lived far away. I knew that one day I would have to explain the choice he had made. I just didn’t think it would come so soon.

Breathing deeply, I reached out and brushed her hair from her eyes, playing with the long strands while I began to speak. Sadness washed over her face as I described as gently as I could that her father had chosen a different life, one without us in it. I prayed she wouldn’t understand what that really meant. Of course, I should have known better.

My ever-insightful child looked me directly in the face and asked, “You mean my daddy didn’t want me?”

How was I supposed to answer that? I found that I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. No child should ever feel rejected the way she had been. Instead, I climbed into bed next to her and pulled
her to me. I kissed her forehead, promising her that I had wanted her from the moment I knew she was to be born.

Christian may not have wanted her, but I had never wanted anything more in my life.

We stayed like that for what seemed like hours, me gaining solace from my daughter while I tried to provide her the same, her breath finally beginning to even out as she drifted to sleep. I allowed myself to relish in the quiet comfort of my child. Nearing sleep myself, Lizzie snuggled deeper and pressed her face into my chest, mumbling from somewhere in her subconscious. “But my daddy wants me now.”

~

My stomach twisted as my cell phone rang. I picked it up from the center console of my car, glancing at the screen as I drove—not that I needed to. I knew exactly who it was. He’d been calling continuously since last Friday when he’d shown up at my house. I’d spent that night in Lizzie’s room, unwilling to leave the warmth of her presence. Saturday morning, I was awakened by a playful kiss on my cheek. I had opened my eyes to find Lizzie grinning over me. It had seemed the perfect start to the day. That feeling hadn’t lasted long, disappearing when I discovered the four missed calls, two voice messages, and three text messages—all of them from Christian. They were all alike, filled with apologies and pleas to make atonement. Initially, I’d been shocked. I had no idea how he’d gotten my cell phone number. Over the following week, the number of calls had increased in direct relation to the fervency in his voice.

I pushed end to silence the ring, and in my frustration, I threw the phone against the passenger seat.

I was scared.

He was so
desperate
as if his life depended on whether or not he saw Lizzie again. My paranoid mind had begun to conjure
terrifying scenarios, most of them centered on a call from Lizzie’s school saying she had suddenly disappeared, last seen with a man that bore an uncanny resemblance to her. If I approached the situation realistically, though, I knew there was little chance he would ever do something so criminal.

That was my worst fear, though, what was legal, what rights he might have. Each night this week after I’d tucked Lizzie into bed, I’d researched. It seemed it all came down to what the court would believe would be in the child’s best interest. The problem was, I
knew
what was best for my child and that was to keep her away from the man who would ultimately end up hurting her, but would they see it that way? It left me feeling completely out of control, unsure of our future. Vulnerable.

I cringed as my phoned chimed again, indicating a new voice message. I prayed that if I ignored him long enough, he would finally give up.

Work passed in a fog. Faces were a blur, and I hoped that the daze that surrounded me wasn’t affecting my job. It turned out I had hoped in vain. Scott, one of our two loan officers, tugged on my forearm and pulled me aside, his expression concerned. He was a thirty-two year old divorcee, and second to Christian, probably the most attractive man I’d ever seen. He didn’t drop his hold as his green eyes searched my face, his thumb running circles over my skin.

“What’s going on with you this week, Liz? I’m worried about you.” His voice was soft, tender, dripping with the affection I’d told him time and time again I could never return. He’d settled on being my friend, though I was certain he believed one day I would have a change of heart.

Pushing my bangs from my face, I sighed heavily. “I’m fine,” I whispered under my breath. “It’s just been a bad week.”
What an understatement. It had been one of the worst weeks of my life.

“You want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, hoping my small, forced smile would project my appreciation. “No, I’m fine. Thanks. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

He nodded, squeezing my arm. “Okay, Liz, but I’m here for you.” He dipped his head, meeting my eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Try to focus out there, okay,” he added reluctantly, plainly uncomfortable bringing up my deficiencies over the past week. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed you’ve been off your game this week.” He gestured with his head in the direction of our branch manager, Anita, who was watching us from her desk across the lobby.

I cringed, feeling guilty and embarrassed for allowing my personal issues to affect my job.

“Thanks for the warning.”

“You’re welcome. Now get back to work,” he said as his tone turned teasing. I grinned at him, shaking my head as I walked back to my window.

I took a deep breath as I got back to my drawer, giving myself a mental pep talk about leaving my personal issues at home. Even if the smile I flashed at my next customer was fake, it was at least a smile and not a grimace. She completed her transaction and wished me a good evening, and I bid her the same.

I called next as I glanced at my computer screen, clearing it to prepare for the next customer.

“Elizabeth, I need to talk to you.” His low voice hit me just as hard as if he’d slammed me against a wall.

Christian stood at my window, his hands gripping the counter as he leaned in toward me. I tried to look away from his penetrating eyes, to escape the intensity behind them. The passion swimming in them was probably the single most frightening thing I’d ever seen. It was then I realized he wouldn’t give up. Overwhelmed, I burst into tears.

“Please, leave us alone,” I begged, imploring with him to just once not think of himself.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I can’t. I have to see Lizzie.” His face lit as he said her name. It made me sick.

I shook my head. “No.” I wasn’t giving in. I would not allow him to hurt my baby.

“Please, don’t do this, Elizabeth. You can’t keep her from me,” he stated as if he had a claim on her. As far as I was concerned, he had given up that claim the moment he had sent me out his door. I was going to tell him that very thing, until the words, “I love her,” passed through his lips.

He loved her? I could feel my face redden as anger surged through my veins. “You what?” I seethed, unable to contain the fury boiling over. “You don’t love her.”
Five years with no contact and now he loves her?
I could feel myself begin to shake, and this time I wouldn’t hold back. He needed to know just how misguided he was. “You’re too selfish to know what love is, and I will not stand by and watch you break Lizzie’s heart when you’ve had your fill of her, just the way you did me.”

Christian paled at my words, almost as if he hadn’t known he’d broken my heart, and if he hadn’t realized that, then he was truly a fool. I had loved him—so much. I’d told him every day and I’d meant it. He’d promised to marry to me, to spend his life with me, to love me forever. Apparently, I’d been the fool to believe it.