The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes (29 page)

I nodded and started up the stairs. Lizzie’s laugh floating down to me lightened my mood. Her cousins were obviously very successful in entertaining her while the rest of us prepared for her party. My family was so supportive and I couldn’t be more grateful. Happily giving up an entire Saturday for us, everyone had shown up first thing this morning to set up.

All three children were on Lizzie’s bedroom floor. Lizzie and her cousin, Angie, who was just a year older, were listening intently as Angie’s older brother, Brandon, read them a story. It was so adorable.

I watched them for a couple of minutes before interrupting. “Hey, Lizzie. It’s time to get dressed. Your guests will be coming soon.”

She jumped up, squealing and running around in circles in her room. “Yay!” She was wound up tight, but I could only grin because of her excitement. I pulled her princess dress from her closet and she squealed again when she saw it, clapping her hands wildly.

“Oh, Mommy, I’m gonna be so pretty!”

Maggie and Brandon left the room, and I helped Lizzie into the pink, frilly dress, which was really a dress-up costume, one she’d seen at the toy store and had fallen in love with. It was a bit out of my price range, but I’d set aside a little over the last month and surprised her with it after I’d gotten home from work last night.

“You are the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen,” I said with a smile, kissing her nose. She giggled and twirled in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her door. I pinned the plastic tiara in her hair, and she stepped into the little satin slippers.

My
princess.

“Thank you, Momma.” Her voice was soft and filled with appreciation and love as she looked at me. She was the most amazing child.

I hugged her tightly before sitting back and holding her small hands in mine. “You are so welcome, sweetheart. Happy birthday.” I wasn’t surprised to find tears in my eyes. I was feeling very emotional, both saddened and joyed that my baby girl was turning five, not to mention the intense strain Christian had brought to my life. Lizzie reached out, catching a tear with her finger.

“Don’t be sad, Mommy.”

I shook my head, vehement. “No, baby. These are happy tears.” She’d seen me cry so much lately, and I refused to allow another emotional breakdown to affect her day.

“Come on. Let’s go see your surprise.” I stood, holding my hand out to her. She took it, my assurance enough to erase the concern I had caused in her. Her feet were anxious as she dragged me down the stairs.

Lizzie froze the moment she stepped outside, her face alight in awe. “Oh, Momma,” she whispered as she slowly took in our small backyard that had been transformed into her kingdom for the day. Matthew had rented a huge white tent that covered the entire yard from the end of the patio to the wall, the kind normally reserved for weddings. Hundreds of pink balloons hung from it, covering the entire underside. Silver streamers curled out from them, glinting and shining in the afternoon sun. Natalie and my little sister, Carrie, had painted a mural they’d attached along the back wall with a scene depicting a white castle surrounded by rolling green hills scattered with white unicorns. A few tables sat under the patio, covered in pink tablecloths, each centered with a different fairy tale princess surrounded by fresh-cut flowers. My older sister, Sarah, had
volunteered to make a cake, and the huge 3-D princess cake sat proudly on a table that was pushed up against the wall.

Her face glowed. “Thank you, Mommy.” She looked up at me from where she stood at my side, her hand still firmly in mine.

I gestured with my head to the rest of our family who had gathered in front of us, each of them eagerly awaiting her reaction. “It wasn’t just me, Lizzie. They did this for you.” Never would I have been able to do this without them. They were so good to my daughter, so good to me, and I loved them more than the world.

Lizzie shot forward, hugging and kissing each of them, giggling and blushing as everyone claimed that she was the most beautiful princess they’d ever seen. I gazed upon my family, silently thanking them for everything they’d done. Their eyes swam with affection, holding the promise that they wanted it no other way.

They’d never viewed us a burden, even though sometimes I felt that way.

Lizzie’s eyes grew wide in excitement with the sound of the doorbell, while mine grew wide with alarm.

“It’s party time!” Natalie sang, swooping in to take Lizzie into her arms and spinning her in an exaggerated dance as they disappeared into the house to answer the door.

Nervously, I ran my hand over my face and through my hair in a vain attempt to calm myself.

Sarah appeared at my side, nudging my shoulder. “Relax.”

I suppressed a snort.

How could I relax when I had to welcome Christian into my home, the one who had wounded me deeper than anyone, the one who haunted my days and held me in my dreams?

Impossible.

The worst part of it all was, somewhere deep inside me, I knew that allowing him here today was officially inviting him into our lives.

Chapter Seven

Anticipation stirred, pushing me forward.

Yeah, I was nervous and unable to imagine how an afternoon spent with Elizabeth’s family could turn out pleasant, but I didn’t care. Seeing my daughter again, sharing her birthday with her, was the only thing that mattered.

Last Saturday had been the most important day of my life—wonderful, perfect, and entirely horrifying—but the most important. Standing in the middle of the McDonald’s parking lot and watching the taillights of Elizabeth’s car disappear, I’d been hit with so many emotions that I couldn’t discern them all. For the first time, I really understood what I’d missed. I hadn’t been there when my child was born, had no idea what she looked like as a baby, hadn’t witnessed her first steps, her first words. I’d missed birthdays and holidays, years of love, and certainly plenty of heartache. I
missed
Elizabeth.

God, I missed Elizabeth.

Sleep eluded me that night as I dealt with the anger, all of it directed at me. Lizzie had undone me that day, and once she’d loosed the regret that I’d kept bottled inside for years, I could not
hold it back any longer. My soul mourned for what it had lost, for every day I had lived without them, for every moment wasted, for time that could not be reclaimed. I’d buried my face in my pillow as I thought of Elizabeth and the pain I had caused her and what she must have felt.

Shame.

I’d felt it before, but that night it devoured me. By the time the sun broke through the night, I’d accepted that I could never do anything to erase those mistakes. They had marred our lives, sending them on a course they never should have gone. The only power I had was in today, and I was determined to live every day for Lizzie and Elizabeth. Even if Elizabeth never forgave me, I would live for her.

That didn’t mean I’d forgotten what my mother had told me. Elizabeth needed time to deal with my return, time to figure out where I would fit into their lives.

I started by asking for
seven fifteen
.

When I called at seven fifteen on Sunday evening, Elizabeth had answered, sounding irritated, icy.

But at least she’d answered. I’d take what I could get.

I’d only offered a quick, unreturned, “Hi,” and asked if I could speak with Lizzie to ask her what she wanted for her birthday. As strong as the urge was to apologize again and to try to talk to Elizabeth, I’d realized my words were never going to mean anything to her until I showed her I really meant them.

Of course, I wanted to know what Lizzie wanted for her birthday, but it was really just an excuse to call. The disquiet I’d felt the entire day in her absence was put to ease with the sound of her voice, giggling as she sang, “Hi, Daddy,” into the phone, her words a warm embrace. When I’d called the next day at the same time, Elizabeth had seemed just as irritated but maybe less
surprised. By the third night, Lizzie answered, squealing, “Daddy,” into the phone.

The amount of love that surged through me each time I heard her voice was shocking, more than I’d ever imagined possible.

I spent those calls listening to her, learning her, knowing her. Through them, I also gleaned information about Elizabeth, small tidbits that answered some of my questions and others that only gave rise to more. I never asked, but whatever Lizzie offered, I was all too happy to accept.

Seven fifteen
Lizzie could count on, whether I was alone on the balcony of my condo, staring out at the bay, or if it drew me from a board meeting—it was our time.

My breath caught in my throat when I turned onto their street and saw the number of cars lining it. Pink balloons tied to a mailbox flapped in the breeze, confirmation for partygoers that they had come to the right place. A shaky feeling swept through me when I stepped from my car and heard the sounds of children playing and adult conversations coming from Elizabeth’s backyard. I pulled the four presents from the trunk of my car and attempted to balance them with one hand while I swept the other hand through my hair in another futile attempt to calm my nerves.

Ringing the doorbell, I felt my chest tighten with excitement and dread.

I shifted uncomfortably while I waited unsure of who I would face first. When the door swung open, I looked around the stack of presents I had balanced in front of me. The smile on the woman’s face melted into a hardened scowl. I recognized her as Sarah, Elizabeth’s older sister, though I’d only seen her in pictures. The two bore a remarkable resemblance. The only difference was the five years and probable twenty pounds Sarah
had over Elizabeth, though neither of those things made her any less attractive.

I offered a feeble smile.

She narrowed her eyes and stepped back against the wall. She crossed her arms over her chest and allowed me inside without a welcome.

I grimaced and dropped my eyes to the floor as I stepped over the threshold.

This was going to be uncomfortable.

“Everyone’s out back,” she mumbled.

I offered a meek, “Thank you,” that remained unreturned.

Shifting the packages in my arms, I took in my surroundings and grinned.

Elizabeth.

The place screamed it. It was warm and cluttered and messy.

In the middle of the room sat a cozy brown couch with fuzzy blankets draped over the back and large pillows thrown randomly against it. A toy box overflowed, spilling toys out onto the carpet. Framed pictures sat on every shelf and table, mingled with the books on the large bookshelf in the corner, and covered the walls that led upstairs.

I wanted to study each one to discover Lizzie at every age. Instead, I forced myself to follow the noise from the backyard. I walked through the small living room and the archway that led into the kitchen. A sliding glass door sat wide open to the party happening just outside.

I took a deep breath, tried to convince myself I could do this, and stepped through the doorway.

“Daddy!” Lizzie screamed over the roaring volume of voices.

Silence washed over the gathering. Guests trailed off mid-sentence as they turned to look, or rather, glare at me—everyone except the precious child who threw herself around my leg, hugging me. I smiled at her, dropping to my knee to pull her into a one-armed hug as I continued to balance the packages in the other. I nearly melted when I saw what she wore.

“Hi, sweetheart.” I kissed her dark, silken hair, careful to avoid the adorable tiara she wore. “Happy birthday.”

“I’m so happy you came, Daddy.” For a moment, I forgot she was a five year old child. There was so much emotion in her words and maturity in her tone as if my presence was a validation of trust and she understood my heart. I could only pray she did.

“Me too,” I said to reassure her, hugging her to me again. “Me too.” I patted her back before releasing her. She grinned and then raced to rejoin the group of children running and playing on the grass.

Me too.

Even if it meant enduring the quiet hostility that had settled over the small group of adults in Elizabeth’s backyard, it was worth it. They stood straighter, backs rigid, taking a protective stance. I didn’t even want to begin to imagine what these people thought about me, though I couldn’t blame them. If our positions had been reversed, I was sure I would feel exactly the same way.

Averting my gaze, I busied myself by searching for the gift table. I placed the packages on it, stalling a moment before I turned back to face the awkwardness of the situation.

Everyone had returned to their conversations, though they now spoke in hushed whispers that I could only assume had much to do with me. Palpable tension clung to the air, the festivity dampened by my presence.

I warred against the need to justify myself to these people, to explain my intentions, and to apologize. Words meant nothing, I reminded myself. I had to earn that forgiveness, and that forgiveness could really only come through one person—Elizabeth.

She’d ignored my arrival. Her back was turned to me as she spoke quietly to a couple I didn’t recognize, and she acted as if she hadn’t noticed the shift in the mood—pretended it meant nothing—that I meant nothing.

I found reprieve in a plastic chair at the far corner of the yard where I sank out of view and watched Lizzie play. She ran in and out of the house, the children playing a game of chase, all of them squealing and laughing as they moved in a pack. I leaned my elbows on my knees, straining to get a better look as they wove through tables, chairs, and in between the adults where they stood talking.

Lizzie’s face glowed, happiness pouring from her as she raced around the yard.

So beautiful.

My
child.

Never had I imagined that loving someone could hurt so much.

I did my best to keep from staring at Elizabeth, but there were times I couldn’t help but search for her, to watch as she chatted with her family and friends, her hands animated and her laugh free, pure honey, thick and warm—sweet.

When she’d feel the intensity of my eyes upon her, she would immediately tense, but she still never turned to meet my gaze.