Chapter 25
Hunter
For the second time in less than two weeks, I stood in my kitchen and felt my entire life tilt under my feet. My daughter’s question hung between us. Is Catherine going to be my mommy? I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. There were a dozen wrong answers.
No. Yes. Not yet. It’s complicated. You’re too young to understand.
Please don’t say anything to Cole Davis or your life and mine are both going to turn into a crime scene.
I looked at Catherine because whatever happened next involved her as much as it involved me.
I had no right to decide the shape of this conversation without her.
I didn’t want to say something she would hate, or worse, something that made her feel trapped in a role neither of us had discussed.
I heard Catherine inhale deeply beside me then exhale.
Her hand slipped away from the counter, and she stepped forward.
“Isla,” she said gently.
Taylor looked between the three of us, then took a careful step back. “I’m going to give you guys a minute.”
Isla glanced over her shoulder. “But my lip gloss.”
Taylor held up both hands. “We’ll absolutely talk about lip gloss later.”
Then she slipped toward the front door, pausing only long enough to meet Catherine’s eyes.
Catherine gave her the smallest nod. Taylor nodded back and left, closing the door softly behind her.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.
Catherine crouched slightly so she was closer to Isla’s height, but not in a way that talked down to her.
That was Catherine. She had always known how to meet kids where they were without making them feel small.
I had seen it when she babysat Isla years ago.
I saw it now in the quiet way her face softened without turning fake or overly sweet.
“Sometimes,” Catherine said, “adults can have feelings for each other.”
Isla frowned. “Like mommies and daddies?”
I groaned. Catherine glanced at me, and there was the slightest flicker of amusement in her eyes before she turned back to Isla.
“Yes,” she said calmly. “Usually, people date first. Then sometimes they fall in love. Sometimes they get married. Sometimes they have children. There are lots of different ways families happen.”
“My mommy and daddy weren’t in love.” The words hit like a puck to the ribs. “She only loves me from far away,” she said, quieter now. “So sometimes it feels not real.”
Everything inside me stopped. I had imagined a lot of versions of this conversation over the years.
I had never imagined it like this, in my kitchen, with Catherine standing between us and my daughter holding lip gloss while trying to make sense of love that came close and love that stayed distant.
I moved toward her, but Catherine looked at me once like she was asking me to wait.
Her voice stayed soft. “I think love can feel confusing when someone isn’t close enough to show it the way you need them to.”
Isla looked up at her.
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t real,” Catherine continued. “And it doesn’t mean the love your dad gives you is less because someone else has trouble showing up.”
My throat tightened. Isla blinked, absorbing that in the serious, quiet way she sometimes did when she was thinking harder than any ten-year-old should have to. Then she looked directly at Catherine.
“Do you love my daddy?”
I stepped forward. “Bug—”
Catherine lifted one hand, just slightly. How she could be the person caught in the worst possible conversation and somehow still be steadier than I was. She took a breath, and when she answered, she did not look away from Isla.
“I have very deep feelings for your dad,” she said. “And I care about him a lot. We’re still figuring out exactly what that means, but I would like to keep dating him, if that feels okay with you.”
My heart broke open. She had told the truth in a way Isla could understand without promising too much or making herself into something she wasn’t ready to be. She had made room for Isla and for us. Isla’s face lit up so fast I almost had to sit down.
“That’s a great idea,” my daughter beamed.
Catherine blinked. “It is?”
“Yes.” Isla nodded hard. “You already know me, and you know where the blankets are, and Daddy smiles more when you’re here.”
“Isla,” I said.
She looked at me. “What? You do.”
Catherine’s mouth twitched, but her eyes were shiny.
Isla gasped suddenly. “I have to tell Mila.”
“No,” Catherine and I said at the exact same time.
Isla froze halfway through turning toward her room.
Catherine straightened. “We’re sorry. That was too loud.”
Isla walked back into the kitchen and gave us both a very unimpressed look. “You two need to chill.”
I stared at my daughter. Catherine pressed her lips together so tightly I knew she was trying not to laugh.
“This isn’t a chill situation,” I said.
“Clearly.”
“Isla.”
“What? I was just going to text Mila.”
“That’s the problem,” I said.
Her nose wrinkled. “Why?”
I crouched in front of Isla, choosing every word carefully. “Catherine and I have been dating in secret,” I confessed.
Isla’s eyes widened, but not with hurt. I had seen that look before. It usually came right before a question I was not emotionally equipped to answer.
“Secret dating sounds dramatic,” she said.
“It has been,” Catherine muttered.
I glanced up at her.
She shrugged. “It has.”
I looked back at Isla. “The reason it has been secret is because Catherine’s parents don’t know yet.”
Isla’s face changed. “Oh.”
That was when she understood at least part of it. “Cole and Holland don’t know?”
“Not yet,” I winced. I was not setting a very good example for my daughter.
Isla looked at Catherine. “Are you in trouble?”
“No,” Catherine said after a second. “But it’s complicated, and we need to tell them ourselves. Not through a text. Not through Mila or by accident.”
Isla nodded slowly. “So, I can’t tell Mila yet.”
“Sorry but it would be better for us if you didn’t,” I said.
Isla studied us both for a second, then sighed like we had created a real inconvenience in her social schedule.
“Fine.”
“Thank you,” Catherine said.
“Bug,” I said, “can you sit on the couch for a minute? Catherine and I need to talk in the kitchen.”
“Adult whispering?”
“Yes.”
She walked into the living room and flopped onto the couch with the lip gloss still in her hand.
A second later, Moana’s menu music started again.
Catherine and I stayed in the kitchen. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she leaned back against the counter and covered her face with both hands.
“Your daughter is terrifyingly perceptive.”
“I know.”
“She handled that better than either of us,” she said.
“Tell me about it.”
Catherine lowered her hands. Her face looked pale again, but not panicked the way it had when Isla first walked in. This was different. There was a quiet fear that came before doing something hard.
“We have to tell them,” she said.
I let out a slow breath. “Yeah, it’s the right thing to do.”
“Tonight,” she added.
I nodded. “Tonight.” There was no point in putting it off any longer. I couldn’t imagine not seeing Catherine anymore. Isla had seen me with my tongue down her throat. Talk about inconvenient.
Catherine’s eyes lifted to mine. “I should go.”
“No.”
She frowned. “Hunter.”
“We go together,” I said. I was not the kind of man to send the woman I cared about into the lion’s den on her own. I had to own up to what we had done even if it meant that Cole would want to have me traded.
Her eyes were bright again. “I’m scared.” I stepped closer. Her fingers curled into the front of my shirt, and I covered her hands with mine.
“I know,” I said quietly. “I’ll tell them my part. I’ll tell them I pursued this too. I’ll tell them this isn’t casual.”
For a second, I thought she might cry. Then she swallowed, nodded once, and let go of my shirt.
“What about Isla?”
Right.
My daughter was on the couch, holding lip gloss, emotionally managing two adults, and waiting for permission to text Mila the kind of news that could destroy my life.
“We need Taylor,” I said.
Catherine blinked. “Taylor?”
“She can sit with Isla.”
“After she just escaped this apartment?”
“She’s down the hall.” I shrugged.
I pulled out my phone and texted Taylor.
Me: I need an emergency sitter.
Her reply came immediately.
Taylor: Did Isla text Mila?
Me: Not yet. Can you come sit with Isla for a bit?
Taylor: Yes.
Three dots appeared.
Taylor: I’ll be there in two minutes. Don’t let the child near a phone.
Taylor knocked once and let herself in two minutes later, carrying her mug like she had prepared for war. “I’m here,” she said. “No one panic.” She walked into the living room and gave Isla a bright smile. “Okay, lip gloss expert. Show me what we’re working with.”
Isla picked up the tube immediately. “It’s clear but sparkly.”
“Excellent. A classic.”
Catherine watched them for a second, something soft and sad moving across her face. Then she looked at me.
“Okay,” she said.
I grabbed my keys.
“Okay.”
At the door, I stopped and looked back at Isla. She was already showing Taylor the lip gloss wand, but she glanced up like she sensed me watching her.
“Daddy?”
“Be good,” I said.
“I’m always good.”
Taylor snorted. Isla glared at her. “Mostly good.”
I opened the door and stepped into the hallway with Catherine beside me, both of us walking toward the conversation we had spent weeks avoiding. In the elevator, she reached for my hand for one brief second, and I held on because I knew once those doors opened, everything between us might change.