Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Leonard
Exhaustion courses through my veins.
It’s eight o’clock, an hour past the time I was meant to be home. Shelby had been kind enough to collect Riley from school again, and I repay her by being late.
Opening the front door, I step in expecting to find a scene similar to yesterday—Riley content in her room, and Shelby puttering around the kitchen.
Instead, Shelby jumps up from where she’s waiting the minute I’m in sight.
“Hey, Doc. Lasagne and garlic bread are in the oven. Riley didn’t eat much and is in her room.”
I frown at her tone.
Apparently, I’m not the only grumpy one. Did she miss our new nightly routine last night?
Riley had woken up throughout the night. After the fourth time of her climbing in bed with me, I stopped putting her back into her own room.
I didn’t have the time to even think about sneaking into Shelby’s house, never mind the energy.
My daughter and I woke grumpy and irritable due to our lack of sleep. Shelby should have slept well, but maybe the lack of dopamine is affecting her mood.
“Thank you.” I smile, placing my briefcase beside the front door.
I barely finish the words, and Shelby has her jacket on, reaching for her sneakers.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I murmur, reaching for her arm.
Closing her eyes, Shelby takes a deep breath. “It’s been a long day.”
“Me too,” I agree. Catching her chin, I turn her gaze to meet mine. “Thank you for the food.”
Shelby softens under my fingers. When she turns to me more, my blood boils.
“What the fuck happened to your face?”
Either the sharpness of my words or the fact I cursed causes Shelby to flinch.
Taking a steadying breath, I ask again, with a much softer tone. “What happened to your face, sweetheart?”
Her left hand lifts, as if covering the red mark can erase it from my memory.
“It was an accident,” she whispers.
My gaze follows when her eyes drift to the corridor that leads to the bedrooms.
“Riley?” I ask, shocked.
Absolutely fucking not.
“She was in a foul mood after school. I offered to take her to the park, but she asked to take a nap.”
I nod but don’t interrupt.
“After a few hours, I went to wake her up. She was grumbling, and before I knew it . . .” Shelby shrugs, gesturing to the redness below her eye.
“My six-year-old hit you hard enough to leave a mark?” I confirm.
“She has a mean right hook,” she jokes with a breathy chuckle. “Really, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
Stepping into her, I frame her face. Bending, I press a sweet kiss to the mark on her cheekbone and then another. Her lashes flutter as her eyes close.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “She has never done anything like this before. It won’t happen again.”
Confusion swirls around me. Riley is a good child, and she loves Shelby.
“I had to walk away, so I didn’t shout at her,” she confesses, her voice filled with shame.
“But you did walk away. Riley is fine . . . about to get a serious talking-to and be grounded but fine,” I reassure, my thumb stroking her cheek. “Don’t leave. At least stay long enough for her to apologize.”
“Okay,” she concedes. “I’ll wait and then head home.”
It takes more effort than I’d like to admit to pull myself away from her. Looking back, I see her settle onto the sofa.
First last night and now today. What the hell has gotten into Riley?
My little girl is sitting on the end of her bed, no doubt waiting for me. Her little chin wobbles the minute she sees me.
Giving a heavy sigh, I sit down beside her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She sniffles.
“It’s not me you need to apologize to, young lady.” I maintain a soft yet stern tone. Riley may be sorry, but what she did is not okay. “We don’t hit people,” I reprimand. “We certainly don’t hit people who help and take care of us. What on earth were you thinking?”
My question only earns more tears. Has she sat here waiting for me to get home this whole time?
Stroking the back of her head, I wipe at her cheek with my other hand. “Did you tell Shelby that you were sorry?”
Riley hiccups, shaking her head.
“Then I suggest you go and do that now.”
My sweet girl hops off the bed and reaches for my hand.
Shelby gives us a smile that I know she doesn’t mean, but the gesture gives Riley the courage she needs to step out from behind me.
“I’m sorry, Shelby,” Riley says between hiccuped breaths.
“You were grumpy, and it was an accident.” Shelby crouches, offering a hug. “I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you, too,” Riley cries.
Seeing them like this reinforces the fact that they are the two most important people to me.
Shelby kisses Riley’s forehead and stands. “I should get home.”
“Noooo.”
Shelby and I blink, bewildered as my six-year-old whines and stomps her feet.
“You can’t leave!” Riley wails.
“Riley,” I huff.
“No, if she goes, she won’t come back. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Crouching, I pull my daughter close.
“That is enough. What has gotten into you?”
“Max said that when his dad got a girlfriend, he spent all his time with her, and then they got married, and Max doesn’t see his dad anymore.” Riley’s shoulders shake as she cries. “I don’t want you to leave me.”
“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” I promise sternly.
“Max said that I should be mean, and then Shelby wouldn’t like you anymore, but now she’s leaving and never coming back. Just like Mommy.”
My heart stills at her words. Scooping her up, I hug my baby girl close.
“I am never leaving you,” I repeat.
“Me neither, muffin.” Shelby joins, stroking Riley’s back. “I’m not your daddy’s girlfriend.”
“But even if she was, Shelby will always love you, and nothing will change that,” I add. After all, I have every intention of marrying Shelby within the next year—right after I get her pregnant.
It takes a good five minutes and many reassurances that Shelby doesn’t hate her and that I will never leave before my sweet girl finally calms.
Her hiccup breaths break my heart.
“How about we stop listening to Max Newman?”
Riley nods, her little head rubbing against my shoulder where it rests.
“How about I warm some food up for you?” Shelby offers. “You hungry, baby?” she whispers, stroking my daughter’s cheek. “You didn’t eat much earlier.”
Riley shakes her head, and a second later, her shoulders shake when she starts to cry again.
“Shh,” I soothe.
My little girl reaches for Shelby, and before I can deny her, my future wife pulls my daughter from my arms and into her own.
“It’s okay. We’re okay. You and I can have a cuddle while we watch your dad warm his own food up. How’s that sound?”
Riley makes a sound of approval.
Stroking her hair, I drop two kisses on the back of her head. Pulling back, I tilt my head and dip down a second time to quickly press my lips to Shelby’s.
Her wide eyes meet mine. Our secret is safe with my daughter facing the other way.
My girl has no idea that this is our second secret. But she will . . . eventually.