Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ella

Nova stares at me, brow furrowed in concern and I try to force my expression into an approximation of a smile.

This is fine.

Everything is fine.

The world is just…falling the fuck apart while I'm casually nibbling on a sandwich and trying to ignore the pug snot on my jeans.

While my dad is standing there with his replacement family.

A little girl on his shoulders, a boy clinging to his leg, a wife at his side.

It's Knox and me and my parents—only it's reflected in a morbidly wrong mirror.

Because my mom is gone. Because the man in that cruel likeness is long excised from my life.

Because the kids aren't Knox and me.

"Oh my God," Nova hisses, her wide eyes coming to mine. "Is that your dad?" Her aghast question channels the whirlwind of feelings in my belly.

I nod tightly, rasp, "Yeah."

Steve growls.

So does Nova. "Is he here to see you?"

"I-I don't think so." I haven't heard from him in…well, since his generic response to the birthday text I sent him last year—the same response as the previous year.

And the year before that.

And…the year before that.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Hope you have a great day.

Thanks, Daniela.

And that's it.

I close my eyes for a heartbeat, do my best to disappear into my chair—because it's either that or go over to my dad and his new wife and his happy family…and I can't even pretend that I'd survive that.

Not tough, impermeable Ella who's never met a problem she can't best.

And certainly not traumatized teenage Ella who's desperate for her dad, for any semblance of the way things were before.

"Breathe," Nova murmurs, her hand on mine again, fingers lacing tightly through mine. Her voice is quiet and even, reaching my ears even despite the noise of conversations and kids and traffic in the background. "In, two, three, four…out, two, three, four," she counts slowly.

I hang on to her words like the lifeline they are, desperate for any anchor in the sea of memories that are slamming through my brain like the relentless tide pounding against the shore.

"Daniela?"

My fingers clench on Nova's as my eyes shoot open and I see him standing there, surprise written into the lines of his face. He looks different now—somehow younger even though he's older, like creating this new family that doesn't include Knox and me has helped him shed the heavy weight of his trauma.

He dumped several hundred pounds of it, I suppose.

The little girl has blonde hair and blue eyes and she tilts her head as she studies me, a wide grin on her face. She's fucking cute and energetic, lifting her hand and waving it enthusiastically. "Hi," she says, entire body vibrating with exuberance, and—Jesus fucking Christ—but she has Knox's smile. "I'm Sophia."

"I'm Luke!" the boy, who appears to be a year or two older, says.

Steve snorts at my side, drawing Sophie's attention.

"It's a pug!" she shrieks, trying to climb down from my dad's shoulders.

Steve, no stranger to all manner of children fawning over him, promptly flops to his side, legs up, body primed for copious belly rubs. His tongue lolls out of his mouth, his little curled-up nub starts wagging.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" My dad's voice is gentle and laced with a parental indulgence that slices right through me.

"Can I pet your doggy?" she asks me, and God, her blue eyes are so much like my own.

Even if I could have spoken—which I can't because there's a knife currently lodged in my belly, slowly tearing upward—Steve isn't my dog.

I don't have the power to grant permission for belly rubs.

Thankfully, Nova, good friend that she is, recognizes I'm frozen. She squeezes my fingers one more time before slipping her hand from mine, pushing back her chair, and rounding the table, crouching down in front of Sophia and Luke. "Steve loves belly rubs," she says softly, showing them how to pet him gently. "Yup. Just like that. Nice job." She helps guide their little hands, supervising because I'm in no fucking shape to do so.

My gaze is on my dad.

My. Dad .

Who can't look at me—or can't be bothered to do so.

He's staring adoringly at his new kids…when a child—well, a child of his who's an adult, but still, his fucking kid —is sitting in front of him, desperate for the barest modicum of fucking acknowledgment.

"How are you, Daniela?"

I blink, tear my gaze from my dad, from him crouching next to Nova and asking her how she's doing, how work is treating her , what she's doing up in Tahoe.

Questions he should be asking me .

Answers he should already know.

I swallow hard and focus on Anne. On my dad's second wife.

That knife slices further.

"I'm fine," I say quietly.

I want to scream at Anne, want to ask her why she's made a whole other family with a man who abandoned his first one, but…Sophia and Luke.

They're innocent kids having a nice day.

I won't ruin that, even if the petty in me doesn't return the question, doesn't acknowledge her further, doesn't dive into a conversation about how Luke's elementary school teacher is or what Sophia might be learning in preschool. I don't ask if they're here for a weekend jaunt on the slopes or just getting away from the city for a couple of days.

I just…

Pick up my sandwich and start eating.

"No," Nova says, slanting a glance toward me, her pretty green eyes filled with concern, "I moved up here a few months back so I can be close to Ella and Knox and my boyfriend, Lake."

"Knox is here?"

I grind my teeth together.

His son is a professional hockey player—a fucking professional hockey player! It's a tiny sliver of the world's population who've been able to make it that far and he doesn't even know what team he's playing for?

"Yes," I grind out. "He plays for the Sierra and just signed an eight-year contract because he's one of their most consistent and highly productive players."

My dad's gaze comes to mine, but only for a heartbeat.

Then he looks back to Nova. "Right," he says softly and stands, glancing down at the kids. "Well, we have a reservation we need to get to."

That knife yanks upward, rending flesh, tearing through me, spilling all of my vulnerable insides.

"Bye, Steve!" Sophia says, scratching him one more time before my dad lifts her up and settles her on his shoulders again. "Bye!" she calls to me.

I wave, force a smile, then jerk slightly when I feel a little hand on my knee.

"Bye," Luke says.

I exhale, eyes stinging. "Bye, buddy."

Anne nods at me then takes Luke's hand and I can't help but watch as they walk away.

Not my life.

Not any longer.

"Ella—"

I stand so quickly that my chair almost tips over.

Luckily, I catch it before I can commit pugicide, righting it and grabbing my things. "I-uh—" A breath, voice steadying as I force myself to meet Nova's gaze. "I need to get back to the salon," I say. "I can't be late for Donna."

A lie because Donna isn't coming in today.

But Nova, nice person she is, doesn't call me on it. She just wraps up my sandwich and passes it over to me. "At least try to eat something when you feel up to it."

I nod, take the sandwich, but the moment I'm out of sight of her, I chuck it in a trash can.

And then I get in my car and I drive to the salon.

I make it through my appointments because I need the distraction, because Kit would know something is up if I canceled them and hid, and…

Because I know Nova will drive by the salon and look for my car, just to be sure I made it this far.

But the moment my last client leaves, I gather my things…

And I do my best to forget the shit show that's my life.