Chapter 34 Eli
Eli
My heart cracks right down the middle.
I stand there in the hallway with Knox behind me, his hand steady on my shoulder while the words from inside the room echo through my chest like a drum in a jungle.
Lia’s answers are beautiful.
Amber should have heard them from me, though.
I came home on my lunch break like I told Amber I would when she told me she wasn’t feeling well. Knox pulled in right behind me, same as he promised. We were halfway down the hallway before we heard them talking.
Before we realized what the conversation was about.
So, we stopped. Not because we wanted to eavesdrop, but because neither of us could bring ourselves to interrupt. Knox’s grip tightens slightly on my shoulder now, grounding me while I watch my daughter curl up in Lia’s arms.
Pickles is stretched across her legs like he belongs there, his big shepherd body acting like some sort of guardrail for the moment.
And Lia.
My god, she’s an angel, holding Amber like she was built for it.
Like she understands exactly what my little girl needed. Like she was sent to us by Gloria herself.
I don’t stop myself when I reach for the door, easing it open just a smidge more.
I also can’t stop myself when the words tumble from my lips. “Your mother would be so proud of you, Amber.”
Both of them freeze before Amber turns her head to look at me first. Her eyes are red from crying, but the second she sees me standing there, her bottom lip trembles.
“Daddy.”
That’s it.
That’s all it takes.
I cross the room in three long strides just as she lifts her arms toward me. I climb right onto the bed without hesitation, pulling her against my chest and out of Lia’s embrace the second she reaches me like she used to do when she was a little girl.
She’s still my little girl.
She’ll always be my little girl.
“Oh, princess,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”
Amber clings to me like she’s been holding all this inside for years. Maybe she has.
“I didn’t know you felt like that,” I whisper. “I should’ve known you felt like that.”
Her voice comes out muffled against my shirt. “I didn’t wanna make you sad.”
That sentence hits me harder than anything else. “You could never make me sad by talking to me, princess. I promise you that.”
Her sniffle breaks my heart as the bed bows with Knox perching at the foot of the mattress. “Really? You promise?”
“I promise promise.”
Lia shifts beside us, quiet and steady, her presence warm instead of intrusive. One of her hands rests lightly on Amber’s back, rubbing up and down her spine while we talk. Knox is perched at the foot of the bed, silent and watching with his own tears in his eyes.
I’m so glad they’re here to help me with this.
“I think about Mom a lot,” Amber admits softly.
“I do, too.”
She peeks up at me. “You do?”
I nod as I look down at my beautiful daughter who looks so much like Gloria. “Every single day. She loved you so much, kiddo. Do you know that?”
Amber studies my face like she’s looking for proof.
“And Lia’s right,” I say. I peek over at the wondrous woman that’s come into our lives before I look back at my daughter. “Mommy used to talk to her belly all the time when you were inside of her. She’d sing you songs and read you bedtime stories before we went to sleep.”
Amber’s eyes widen a little. “She did?”
“Oh yeah,” I say with a soft smile. “She’d sit on the couch and tell you about the world you were gonna see. About the beach and about the books she wanted to read with you. How she hoped you’d like music so we could dance around the house together.”
Amber sniffles. “What was her favorite song?”
I laugh quietly. “Oh, honey. Too many to count. I’ll make a playlist of all her favorite songs for you so you can listen whenever you want, how’s that sound?”
Her voice is muffled against me. “I’d like that, Daddy.”
Pickles shifts against Amber’s legs, settling his tail on top of my shin.
The words flow easily, even though the tears do, too.
I tell her about Gloria’s favorite vacation spot: Rodanthe, on the Outer Banks.
I tell her about the day I met her mother, when we were in high school and she was the new girl whose parents had just moved to town.
I tell her about how her mother used to snort whenever she’d belly laugh, and how she burned the pancakes she made every Saturday morning, but I still ate them anyway.
I tell her about the time she cried when she first felt Amber kick, and how we’d lay there at night, wondering whose nose Amber would end up with.
“Whose nose do I have?” Amber asks.
I smile down at her. “You ended up with Mommy’s nose.”
She wiggles and scrunches it up. “Good. I like my nose. Yours is big.”
A teary laugh comes from Knox at the foot of the bed. I can only imagine the kinds of memories this kicks up for him.
Lia rubs Amber’s back through the entire conversation before Knox gets up and leaves. He mutters something about heating up Walker’s soup, and I watch Amber’s eyes start drooping.
I kiss her forehead as the two of us ease down into the bed—my little girl, so grown for her age, snuggling tightly against me like she always did during those first years.
“Think I’m still a little sick,” she says through a yawn.
I kiss her forehead again. “That’s okay, you rest.”
“But Knox said—”
“You can eat soup when you’re ready to eat soup, okay?”
“Okay,” she says through another yawn.
Lia scoots down into the bed as well, and when I peer over at her, she’s got tears in her own eyes.
I reach my free hand over, offering it to her, and she threads our fingers together.
I hold her hand, our connection settling against Amber’s side while she nestles against me, and for a moment, time stands still.
“You done with work, Daddy?” Amber croaks out.
I glance at the clock on the wall. Crap, I’m due back at the school in twenty minutes.
School can wait.
“Yeah, princess,” I say as I kiss the top of her head. “I’m done with work today.”
The smell of soup fills the room as Amber falls asleep between us. I hate to release Lia’s hand, but I have to notify the school that I’ve got a family emergency. After sending off the email on my phone, I tuck it away, putting work out of my mind.
Some things are just more important.
“Soup’s ready whenever you guys are,” Knox murmurs from the doorway. “Got some buttered toast made up, too. I need to get back to work, but I’ll stop by after I’m done. Should be no later than four.”
I turn my head. “Hey, Knox.”
“Yeah?”
I hold his gaze for a moment. “Thanks.”
He smiles softly. “None needed. See you guys in a few hours.”
When I feel Amber go slack against me with sleep, I ease slowly out of the bed. Pickles quickly takes up my space next to her, settling his snout just shy of her own little nose. Lia reaches down and pulls the covers up over both of them, so only their heads are peeking out.
“Come on,” she whispers as she heads for the door. “Pickles will stay with her while she sleeps.”
“Sleep tight, princess,” I whisper as I bend down and kiss my daughter’s cheek.
I close the guest bedroom door behind me after ushering Lia out into the hallway, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. We head into the kitchen where there’s half a loaf of buttered toast waiting for us as well as a practical cauldron of soup.
“My word, how much soup did Walker make?” Lia asks.
The words come tumbling out. “Hey, I’m really sorry if that conversation was… weird.”
“What?” she asks as she turns to face me.
I rub the back of my neck. “You know, you getting caught in the middle of something so personal. I’m sorry if it put you in an awkward position. It’s something I should have figured out how to address a long time ago.”
Lia looks up at me, and there’s a softness in her eyes that fills my chest with warmth.
She places her hand against my racing heart. “Eli.”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t catch me in the middle of anything. I’m glad Amber felt comfortable expressing herself to me. Sometimes, Omegas just need over Omegas to talk to. That doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong.”
I scrub my hand down my face. “I just can’t help but wonder—”
“None of that,” she says, patting my chest. “You just let your daughter see how much you love her. No apologies and no second-guessing anything.”
My hand cups hers on my chest. “Thank you for helping her, Lia.”
She just shrugs. “She’s a good kid, Eli, and she’s a good kid because she’s got a good dad. Never forget that.”
“Still,” I reach for her and pull her into me, her hands falling to my chest as mine encircle her, “I don’t think she would’ve opened up like this without you here.”
She smiles up at me. “Well, I’m glad I was here.”
And for the first time since Gloria died, the silence that falls around us doesn’t feel quite so heavy.