The Regret Series Complete Collection Box Set: Lost to You, Take This Regret, and if Forever Comes (34 page)

Traffic was heavier than I’d hoped, but I still made the short trip to Elizabeth’s house faster than I ever had. The neighborhood was already quiet when I turned onto their street. Children no longer played on the grassy lawns of their front yards or on the sidewalks. Instead windows glowed as families had taken their activities inside.

I jumped from my car, not bothering to pause to knock when I reached the door. I threw it open to find Lizzie on Elizabeth’s lap where they were huddled on the couch. Lizzie
clutched her left arm protectively to her chest and whimpered while Elizabeth held a damp towel to her head.

“Lizzie,” I said as both worry and relief rushed out of me from where I stood in the doorway, still clutching the door handle. My heart ached to see her this way but was thankful it had not been so much worse.

“Daddy.” She sniffled but still managed to welcome me with a small smile.

I crossed the room, dropped to my knees in front of her, and brushed back the matted hair stuck to her face. “Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?” My gaze swept over her, ultimately landing on the towel slowly saturating with blood that Elizabeth had pressed to Lizzie’s forehead.

“My arm hurts.” She grimaced and hugged her arm closer, her bright eyes wet with tears. The sharp stabbing in my chest made me wonder if it were physically possible to feel someone else’s pain.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” I smiled sadly and then shifted so I could pick her up. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

Lizzie’s eyes grew wide and she pulled away. For a moment, my heart fell with rejection before she shook her head stubbornly. “No, Daddy, I don’t like doctors.”

Oh.

I glanced at Elizabeth, her eyes pleading.
Say something
.

I scooted closer. I tried to ignore the fact that as I did so, I hovered over Elizabeth, her knees brushing against my chest with every unsteady breath I took.

Instead, I focused on what was important—reassuring my daughter.

“Did you know I used to be scared of the doctor when I was a little boy?” I asked, keeping my tone light in an effort to comfort Lizzie.

She looked surprised. “You were?”

“Yep,” I answered, nodding. “And do you know what I learned?”

She shook her head.

“That doctors want to help us feel better,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing enough.

“But doctors give shots,” Lizzie said, pressing her lips together in defiance.

I suppressed a chuckle. Even in her distress, she was still the cutest thing I’d ever seen. I felt Elizabeth’s smile, and imagined she was thinking the same thing.

Reaching out, I cupped Lizzie’s face, running my thumb over her cheek. “Sometimes they do, but it’s only to help you feel better.”

Lizzie’s bottom lip trembled. “But I
hate
shots, Daddy.”

My expression softened in sympathy. This was the first time I’d really seen my daughter frightened, and while I wanted to take away all her fear, to be her hero and to promise her I’d never let anyone or anything hurt her, I couldn’t do that. I had to be honest with her.

“I know, Lizzie.” I leaned in further. “But if you have to get a shot, Mommy and I will be right there with you the whole time, okay?”

“Promise?” Lizzie whispered, still fearful, though I could feel her resistance fading.

“Promise.” That was a promise I could make.

“Okay, Daddy.”

Carefully, I took Lizzie into my arms and murmured how proud I was of her. Elizabeth looked up at me as she handed Lizzie over and mouthed, “Thank you.” Her lips moved slowly, cautiously. I knew it was hard for her to put this much trust in me, to place our injured daughter in my waiting arms. I nodded
once as I met her eyes, wordlessly promising to never give her reason to regret it.

I carried Lizzie to the car where I strapped her into her booster seat, mindful of her injured arm. Elizabeth climbed into the backseat beside her, rattling off directions to the nearest ER. Within minutes, we walked through the doors and had Lizzie signed in.

We tucked ourselves in the farthest corner of the waiting room. I cradled Lizzie on my lap and Elizabeth sat down in the chair next to me, closer to me than she was probably comfortable with. Warily, we eyed the room overflowing with people sporting about every illness and injury we could imagine.

I blew out a loud sigh through my mouth.

Obviously, it was going to be a very long night.

By ten, probably thanks to the dose of medicine Elizabeth had given her before I arrived to their house, Lizzie’s pain had waned enough that she’d fallen asleep curled up on my lap as I rubbed continuous circles along her back. Elizabeth had said little, only quiet murmurings when she checked on her daughter, sweet words of reassurance and comfort.

Lizzie couldn’t have had a better mother.

For the hundredth time that night, I looked to the beautiful woman beside me. She appeared exhausted, dark bags beginning to appear below her honey-colored eyes, her blond waves in disarray from the number of times she’d wrenched her fingers through them. This time she must have felt me, and she lifted her eyes to meet mine as she smiled somewhat apologetically.

“Thanks for being here, Christian,” she said as if she thought my being here was putting me out.

I inclined my head, turning so that I nearly spoke against her ear. “Would you be anywhere else right now, Elizabeth?”

She glanced at our sleeping child and then back at me, her brow furrowed. “Of course not.”

I looked at her intensely. “Neither would I.” She blinked several times before she pursed her lips and nodded. My mouth fell into a small, sad smile, knowing part of her still didn’t believe it. But that was okay because I knew another part of her did.

It was just another thing that only time would prove.

We sank back into silence. The passage of time dragged by as patients were called back and others arrived to take their place. Elizabeth yawned, her eyes drooping. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath as she scrubbed her palm over her face.

“Here.” I shifted, laying Lizzie in her arms. Her eyes shot to my face, wild and pleading.
Don’t leave me
.

She fell back into distrust so easily. It stung. “I’ll be right back.”

Less than five minutes later, I returned with two Styrofoam cups of steaming coffee. I had prepared Elizabeth’s the way I remembered she liked it, one cream and two sugars.

She moaned in pleasure when I handed her the cup. “Christian.” She breathed in the aroma, and her eyes closed as she brought it to her lips. “You’re a life saver.”

Then she flashed me the first real smile she’d given me since I had come back into her life.

~

For what had to be the twentieth time in the last ten minutes, Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, checking to make sure Lizzie was comfortable. Lizzie had fallen back asleep almost the moment I’d put her in the car.

Elizabeth sighed as she faced forward, slumping deeper into the front passenger seat. Her elbow rested against the door
with her head in her palm. “I always overreact when it comes to her,” she uttered, mostly to herself.

Glancing to my right, I smiled softly at the woman who owned my heart, who I now had come to know as one who questioned herself as a mother, worried that she was making mistakes, that she was too cautious or not cautious enough. Apparently, parenthood did that to you. She rolled her head across the headrest and turned to face me, her eyes tired but warm. My smile grew.

“What?” she drawled, returning a lazy grin.

“I was just thinking what a good mother you are.” I pulled into her driveway, cutting the engine and hoping I hadn’t ruined the amicable mood we’d fallen into over the last several hours.

She laughed quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I have no clue what I’m doing.”

Through the rearview mirror, I peered at the child she had raised, the little girl I had a hard time seeing as anything but perfect, and shook my head before turning back to Elizabeth. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself so much.”

The urge to reach out and touch her was almost too much to resist—the way her lips parted in response to my words as she stared across the small space at me, her body fatigued and mind weary. It reminded me so much of the way she used to look just before she fell asleep in my arms.

I quickly removed myself from the car before I did something very stupid.

Carefully, I gathered Lizzie in my arms and followed Elizabeth into the dark house and upstairs to Lizzie’s room where I laid our daughter on her small bed. While Elizabeth dug in the dresser to find Lizzie’s favorite nightgown, I pulled off her shoes and shorts. Guided by the dim light filtering in from the
hall, Elizabeth and I worked together to get Lizzie ready for bed by removing her shirt over the sling that protected her elbow and wrist, her tiny fingers now swollen.

“You have no idea how happy I am this isn’t a cast,” Elizabeth whispered as we coaxed the shirt from her head.

I nodded. I couldn’t have agreed more.

Lizzie’s injuries could have been so much worse, but she had escaped with only a sprained wrist and the cut on her head had only required a simple butterfly bandage. Most important to Lizzie was the fact that it meant no shots. She’d been so brave with the doctor and nurses, sitting still as they’d examined her and ran a series of x-rays and cooperating while they placed the bandage above her eye and rested her arm in a sling.

I was so proud of her.

Lizzie barely stirred as I held her up and Elizabeth dressed her, pulling the pink satin nightgown easily over her head. She took more time to carefully maneuver Lizzie’s arm through the sleeve.

Elizabeth held the comforter back while I laid our daughter on the sheets, and for the first time in Lizzie’s life, both of her parents tucked her into bed.

Even under the terrible circumstances, it felt amazing.

Pressing my lips to my daughter’s head, I whispered against it, “I love you, Lizzie.”

She groaned an unintelligible response that went straight to my heart.

Standing, I yawned and stretched. The small digital clock on Lizzie’s nightstand glowed two-nineteen.

It was really late, but still I wasn’t ready to go.

From the bedroom door, I watched as Elizabeth kissed our daughter and ran a tender hand through Lizzie’s dark hair before she reluctantly stood and crossed the room.

I stepped out into the hallway and Elizabeth followed behind me, leaving the door ajar behind her.

We both breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief, the ordeal officially over.

Standing in the subdued light of Elizabeth’s hallway, the two of us were frozen, unwilling to move. There were so many things I wanted to say—needed to say, the silence between us expectant. It stretched on and inevitably became uncomfortable.

“You’d better get some rest,” I finally said, wishing I didn’t have to say goodbye.

She fidgeted. “It’s really late, Christian.” She wrung her hands. “Why don’t you stay? I don’t have a guest room, but the couch is really comfortable . . . if you want.” The nervous edge to her words dissipated as she extended her hand, reaching out but not touching. “Lizzie will want to see you in the morning.”

She seemed to think she needed to convince me. Didn’t she understand I never wanted to leave? But as much as I wanted to stay, I understood this was a huge offering for Elizabeth to make.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah . . . stay.” Maybe she would never admit it, maybe she didn’t even realize it herself, but as I peered down at her, I
knew
she wanted me to stay. The armor she wore in protection of herself wasn’t enough to conceal the hope in her eyes.

I swallowed, searching for my voice. “Elizabeth—”

She held up a hand to stop me. “Please, Christian . . . don’t.”

On instinct, I stepped back and closed my eyes to keep myself from saying things she wasn’t ready to hear. Soon we would have to talk and lay it all out. But I heard her plea, and
tonight I wouldn’t push her any farther than she was ready to go.

“Okay.”

The tension between us dissolved, and she moved into action. “Hang on a second.” She turned and disappeared into her room at the end of the small hall before she returned less than two minutes later with a new toothbrush and a pair of pajama bottoms.

“Here.” She handed the small pile to me. “Matthew left these here a long time ago.”

I looked down at the things in my hand and then back at Elizabeth, incredulous. Did she really expect me to wear these? Matthew wasn’t exactly my biggest fan.

She laughed and shook her head. “It’s fine, Christian. Just wear them.” She grinned and pointed toward the stairs. “There’s a bathroom off the family room.”

I chuckled at the confounding woman in front of me who amazed me at every turn. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Elizabeth had always been the most caring, compassionate person I’d ever known, and she still was. I just had to peel the layers back a little bit to see it.

How sad they were there because of me.

“Goodnight, Elizabeth.” A gracious smile spread across my face.

“Goodnight, Christian.” A moment was spent staring at each other, swimming in nostalgia and what could have been, before I turned and left her standing at the top of the stairs.

In the small bathroom, I shed my clothes and put on the blue flannel pajama bottoms, feeling a twinge of guilt as I did so.

I was tired, but there was an energy stirring in me, leaving me unsure of how much sleep I would actually get tonight. So many times I’d imagined this, what it would be like
to stay here, though the circumstances now were so different than what had taken place in my dreams. I’d be sleeping on the couch—not with Elizabeth.

Running dampened hands through my hair, I exhaled and hoped I’d at least catch a couple hours of sleep. Opening the door and flipping off the light switch, I stepped into the dimly-lit family room and came face-to-face with Elizabeth.

I stopped mid-stride, surprised to find her waiting for me on the other side of the bathroom door. Her eyes grew wide when they hit my bare chest before her face flushed red and she averted her gaze to the floor.