Chapter Twenty-Two #2
At that, her eyes go wide, and she wriggles down to get to the door. I’m right behind her to open the catch that she can’t reach, and then she hauls the heavy wooden door open and stands there staring at Corey, arms folded over her chest.
Corey, for his part, looks surprised at this miniature Cerberus in a pink princess dress, and adopts his adorable rabbit-in-the-headlights expression. I snort a laugh.
“Come inside, little rabbit,” I say as I guide Nancy to the side so he can get through the door.
“Rabbit?” Nancy asks me, her button nose wrinkled in confusion.
“It’s his nickname,” I whisper to her, loudly enough that I know Corey can hear me.
“Like a bunny?” she whisper-shouts back to me, and Corey laughs.
“Yes, like a bunny,” I reply, shooting Corey a grin.
Nancy walks over to where Corey has just removed his jacket and shoes, holds her hand out as though she wants to shake his hand, and says, “Nice to meet you, Bunny. My name’s Nancy, and this is my new daddy.”
Corey looks at me, a hand over his mouth, while Nancy remains exactly where she is, hand still outstretched.
I swear my heart skipped a beat at that simple word from Nancy.
I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this moment, and in a way, I have.
And I’m so glad that Corey was here to witness it.
I go to the kitchen to try and pull myself together while Corey shakes my daughter’s hand and introduces himself. By the time I turn around, Nancy is back in front of Bluey, and Corey is approaching me with tears in his eyes.
He wraps me in his arms, and I cry quietly into the crook of his neck, so unbelievably happy.
After all the stress of the last couple of years, I’m here. She’s here. I’m a daddy. No, not just a daddy. I’m her daddy, and everything about that statement feels right, deep down in my soul.
It took me a few minutes to gather myself, and then Corey sat with Nancy while I went upstairs to quickly splash some cold water on my face and get myself together. I don’t want to scare Nancy or have her think I’m anything but over the moon to have her here.
As I come back downstairs, I hear two quiet voices from the dining table.
I peek into the room and see Corey and Nancy sitting kitty-corner to one another, sheets of printer paper – no doubt pilfered from my office – spread out haphazardly between them, a pink unicorn pencil case overflowing with coloured pencils on the trivet in the centre of the table.
Corey is ever-so-gently explaining how to draw what looks like a house, sure strokes of the orange pencil he’s using making his words come to life on the paper. Nancy dutifully copies his movements with a somewhat shakier hand, then checks in for approval.
“Like dis?” she asks, eyes wide as she gazes up at Corey in adoration. I smile at her expression because, yeah, baby girl, same.
“That’s so good,” he praises. “Now, what about a brown roof?” Corey picks up a brown pencil and draws a simple triangular roof on top of the square house, and Nancy, again, follows suit.
My heart can’t take the sweet domesticity of this picture, not knowing this is a stolen moment that can’t last. The phrase ‘reality bites’ has never felt more apt.
I quietly step away to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb the calm sanctuary the two of them have created, and focus instead on making us some sandwiches for lunch.
I’ve grated the cheese and am layering the bread with salad and mayo before seasoning with a bit of salt and pepper, when Nancy comes bounding into the kitchen, Corey hot on her heels. She waves a piece of paper up at me, excitement brightening her whole face.
“Look, Daddy, I drawed our house!”
“Let me see,” I say, a serious expression on my face.
I take the picture from her and consider it with the same critical eye I would a Monet in the National Gallery.
The house looks absolutely nothing like ours, the scale is completely off, and there are three people holding hands outside instead of two.
It’s perfect.
“You like it?” Nancy’s voice is a little wobbly, and I can’t hold out my art critic routine any longer.
“I love it, sweetheart. Look at all these lovely flowers, they’re so colourful.
” Her eyes light up at my praise, and when she holds her arms up wanting to be held, I pick her up easily, careful to place the picture on the counter far away from the sandwich fixings.
“Who do we have here?” I ask, indicating the three stick figures, all heads and limbs with no bodies.
“You,” she sing-songs, pointing at the tallest figure. “Me.” The smallest figure in between the other two. “And Bunny.” She giggles around the new nickname. Corey gives me a side-eye laden with promises of retribution. I simply grin back at him.
We eat our sandwiches, and Nancy asks a lot of questions about her new family.
I don’t think she can quite comprehend the list of names, with the exception of Nanny and Grandad, because at least she has faces to put to their names.
Her response, far from being nervous and anxious as I’d expected, takes me by surprise.
“Can I see them?”
“Who, sweetheart?”
“All of them. Nanny and Grandad and… er… all of them.”
Corey stifles a laugh behind his napkin, and I shoot him a wink.
“All of them? All together? Or do you want me to take you to see everyone separately.”
“No, here. This is my house. Please?” I am in big trouble because I cannot say no to that little face.
“Sure, baby girl. I’ll invite everyone over tomorrow?”
I’m sure Mum will have no qualms whatsoever about cooking Sunday lunch here instead of at theirs. I pull out my phone and send a group text, even as Nancy has already lost interest and is dragging Corey back to the table for more drawing.
By the time I’ve tucked Nancy into bed, I’m exhausted and overwhelmed in the very best way. She took a few minutes to settle into bed, wanting one more story, or a glass of water, or another trip to the bathroom, but eventually she settled down and fell asleep without too much fuss.
I leave her door open just a touch, the soft glow of her white glass rabbit nightlight, a gift from Archer, illuminating the landing just enough for me to find the stairs without needing the top light on.
I head downstairs and find Corey wiping the kitchen counter down, having cleaned up all the dishes from dinner.
“Did she get off OK?” he asks, voice a soft whisper in the low glow of the under-cabinet lighting.
I nod and move closer to him. I feel sticky, like a magnet searching for its equal and opposite piece to cling to. I know in my bones Corey is exactly that for me, and knowing our time is short, makes it even more necessary that I’m within arm’s reach of him.
“Will you stay?” He freezes at my words, the slight pressure of my chest at his back a sensation I want to lean into and pull him closer.
His head tilts back ever so slightly, as though he’s contemplating the very same thing.
“Will you stay for the day tomorrow? Please? Spend the day with all of us as a family.”
“Nash—”
“At least give yourself that memory to take with you when you go?”
He’s silent for a moment, and then he nods.
“I’ll be catching the train tomorrow evening,” he whispers. “I have to go, Nash. You know I do.”
I know he thinks he does, but he deserves to be the master of his own fate and make his own choices after everything he’s faced in his life. I nod in resignation.
“Just give me one more day with you.” I can’t help but lean forward slightly and run my nose in a feather-light touch in the crook of his neck. He tilts his head to the side, not baring himself completely, but enough to allow me in. I breathe him in and hold my breath as I wait for his reply.
“One more day,” he sighs, as he finally gives in and leans back into me. I don’t wrap him up in my arms. I don’t kiss his neck, or bite on his ear lobe, or take his mouth in a hungry kiss. We simply stand there, leaning into one another, eyes closed against the world.
Right guy, wrong time indeed.
The next day, after Nancy casts her spell over my entire family and scores herself an army of uncles and an auntie who would fight the hounds of hell for a moment of her attention, I wave my family off as they leave.
Nancy has been spoiled rotten, gifted toys, clothes, books… everything a self-respecting toddler might need to brighten their day. The absolute highlight for me was the child-size easel and beginner painting set that Corey had ordered for her before he’d been taken.
Watching him help my daughter set it up and then proceed to teach her how to paint, the two of them crowded happily into the corner of the conservatory, painting the trees in the garden while everyone else watched on in awe, had made me miss him before he’s even left.
Now, with my family gone and Nancy safe and sound asleep in her bed after an exhausting day, my heart feels so full, and yet it’s empty at the same time because I know we have to say goodbye.
Aidan and Rain will be back in twenty minutes with his bags, and then he’s off to catch the seven o’clock train to Coventry.
I sit down beside him on the sofa and release a breath I feel like I’ve been holding all day.
“I really am going to miss you.” His expression shifts from relaxed wistfulness to a resigned sadness that just won’t do.
“Hey,” I say, pulling him close. “This isn’t goodbye, you know. It’s just…” I try to think of the perfect words to say, but before I can, he seems to know exactly what we both need to hear.
“It’s just bye for now.” I smile at him and nod, desperately ignoring the lump forming in my throat, his gorgeous green eyes capturing me in their thrall and holding me exactly where I wish I could stay.
I lean forward slowly, making it abundantly clear what I want, and hoping against hope that he doesn’t pull away in disgust.
He doesn’t.
His breath catches on an inhale, and then my lips press to his.