6. Six

Six

Kendrick

I watch Cassidy and Cass from a distance, their heads close together on the deck. Their voices murmur easily. Cassidy’s laughter rings out now and then, a sound so free and joyful it awakens something deep inside me. This effortless connection they’ve forged in recent days feels surreal. I’ve dreamed of this moment for years, and now I’m watching it play out before me. It’s both hauntingly familiar and yet entirely new—and real.

Cass glances back at me, catching my gaze, and waves me over. I hesitate for a second, but then I join them, easing myself onto the deck chair beside them.

Cassidy’s eyes shine as she cradles her guitar, her fingers brushing the strings. Watching her dive into music so effortlessly with Cass fills me with a bittersweet mix of pride and longing. Music used to be our special thing, but now she’s sharing it with her father. She looks up at me, still beaming. “Mom, did you know Dad can play anything by ear?”

I smile, brushing a hand over her blonde hair. “I did know that. He’s always been good with music.”

“What was that?” Cass’s eyebrow goes up. He looks from Cassidy to me. “Cassidy said you didn’t like me–didn’t like my music.”

My eyes search his, and I see a slight vulnerability. With an exaggerated eye roll, I quip, “You’re a famous rock star, and you care about my opinion?” I say doubtfully. “Fine. You’re a wonderful singer, and you have a way with music that is almost magical.“ I glance at him and say grudgingly, “Our daughter was obsessed with you. It made me… uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable.” Cass says thoughtfully, his eyes on mine, “Good. I’m glad it wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate my music.”

He suddenly chuckles, a warmth flickering in his gaze. It’s a look I haven’t seen in years, a reminder of simpler times. Back when I used to look at him with such adoration as if he were the sun and the moon.

I blink as our daughter suddenly jumps up, bringing us both back to the present. “I’m thirsty. I’ll bring back glasses of tea for all of us,” she calls over her shoulder as she goes into the house.

Cass’s eyes swing back to me as she leaves through the sliding glass door. “Kendrick,” he says, his voice hesitant, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Would you and Cassidy consider staying here for the summer?”

The question hangs in the air between us, pulling me back to all those nights when he used to ask me to stay just a little longer to share one more song. I again have to shake off the memories. This isn’t about me. Cass wants to be close to his daughter and try to recapture some of their missed years. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m just here to facilitate their connection. But even as I tell myself this, a small part of me wonders—could he want me here too?

Clearing my throat, I state, “Cass, it’s a big step.” My words come out slowly, carefully. ‘I want to make sure it’s the right thing for Cassidy.

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was,” Cass murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “But I want to share more with her than just our love of music. I want to get to know everything about her.”

As I still hesitate, biting my lip, Cass’s gaze softens, his hand reaching out to rest lightly on mine. “I want to be here for her.”

“My job–” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I’ll cover all costs for both of you. Surely, you could get the time off,” he urges.

Something about his words, his touch, makes me relent. I nod slowly, feeling the lifting of a weight as I make the decision. “Alright. We’ll stay for the summer.”

Cassidy approaches, carefully balancing three glasses brimming with iced tea. After she’s carefully distributed them without spilling a drop, we tell her the news. She practically vibrates with excitement at spending more time with her dad. She grabs her guitar and tries a new chord, and Cass watches her, a look of pure pride on his face. It’s a look I realize I want to see more of, even if it means having to share my daughter’s affections with him. A hollow ache settles in my chest as if a part of her is slowly slipping away.

After the final day of school lets out, we pack and head to the beach—back to Cass and his high-end, privileged lifestyle. Leah was very understanding when I told her about Cassidy’s father wanting to spend time with her. Bless her for not asking questions. I still have some misgivings about all of this, but I keep my fears to myself. I don’t want to spoil anything for Cassidy.

The first morning after we settle in, I’m in the kitchen, making breakfast while Cassidy and Cass sit on the couch, each with a guitar. He’s showing her a few new chords, gently adjusting her hands, and giving her pointers with an attentiveness that leaves me watching in quiet awe.

“She’s a quick learner,” he says, looking up at me as if to include me in their circle. “She’s got a natural gift for melody.”

I smile, though it’s laced with a hint of bittersweetness. “She’s always been able to express her feelings with music or lyrics. It’s her way of truly communicating,” I say softly, meeting his gaze. There’s a knowing–an understanding that only he could fully grasp.

Cassidy strums a few chords, then tries out a run of notes, her face lighting up when she nails it. Cass laughs, reaching over to ruffle her hair. She grins, ducking her head shyly.

As I watch them, I realize that I’m witnessing something precious—a father-daughter bond forming, something I’ve always wanted for Cassidy but feared she’d never have. And yet, it stings a little, knowing that I’m no longer her only confidant, the sole person who understands her hopes and dreams.

Cass glances over at me again once we’re alone, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Hey, I know you got her that guitar, but maybe it’s time for an upgrade? Something a little more refined.”

I try not to feel insulted because Cass can clearly afford to buy her a better-quality instrument. But still—I’m the one who hand-picked that guitar as the best beginner guitar for Cassidy that I could afford, and even then, it took months of scrimping and saving—of doing without.

I force my response to sound casual. “She’ll love anything you get her. But maybe you shouldn’t move too fast. She’s dealing with enough changes as it is.”

Cass nods thoughtfully but doesn’t comment. When Cassidy comes back, he shows her how to move her fingers up and down the frets with ease. I can see the admiration in her eyes and the awe she feels around him. The way she hangs onto his every word, soaking up his advice and encouragement as if she’s been waiting for this her whole life. And in some ways, she has.

They are both absorbed in their music for most of the morning, taking breaks only when I bring out snacks, or they need a quick breather. I settle onto the deck, watching the waves roll in; the steady lull of the ocean is a comforting background to their music. Now and then, I notice Cass looking over at me, his gaze lingering just a little too long. His blue eyes catch mine, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed. That same magnetic pull makes me wonder if he still feels it, too.

As the sun sinks lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, we head to the beach. The sand is cool beneath our feet, and the rhythmic crash of waves fills the silence between us. Cassidy makes fun of the baseball cap and large aviator sunglasses Cass wears so no one will recognize him. Cassidy sprints ahead, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves as she splashes through the surf. Cass and I trail behind, our steps slow, the quiet between us charged with unspoken words.

He nudges my arm lightly, his voice low. “Do you remember that night we spent on the beach in San Diego?”

I glance over, a smile tugging at my lips. “We got lost trying to find that tiny seafood place, didn’t we?”

He chuckles, nodding. “And we ended up wandering around until dawn.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of us, our shared memories casting a warm glow between us. But then, Cassidy calls out, breaking the moment, and I watch as Cass races toward her, scooping her up and spinning her around as she shrieks with laughter. Watching them, I feel a pang, a reminder that some moments—moments that were just my daughter’s and mine—are now Cass’s, too. I guess I need to get used to it.

When we get back to the house, the sun has fully set, and the three of us are exhausted from the day. Cassidy heads to bed early, and I wander into the kitchen, craving a glass of wine. I get a glass and turn toward the fridge when I feel a warm presence behind me. Turning, I find Cass leaning in the doorway, his eyes lingering on the thin straps of my beach coverup, the loose fabric brushing against my legs.

“Kendrick,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that sends a shiver down my spine.

I swallow hard, the air between us growing thick. His eyes linger, tracing over me with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. It feels as though he’s memorizing every detail, every inch of me.

“Cass, I… just needed a drink.” My voice is softer than I intended, breathier, and his gaze darkens slightly.

He steps closer, so close I can feel his warmth, smell the faint scent of salt, and smell something distinctly him. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed… us.”

His words catch me off guard, and I look up, meeting his gaze, my heart pounding. There’s a raw honesty in his eyes, a depth of emotion I wasn’t expecting. And for a moment, the walls I’ve built around myself start to crumble.

Before I know it, my hand reaches up, resting lightly against his chiseled chest. I can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingers, and it feels so familiar, so right, that I almost forget the years between us. All the reasons this is a bad idea and why I shouldn’t let this happen. But then, his hand slides down to my waist, pulling me just a little closer, and I forget everything.

Being this close to him again, being held in his arms, all the countless lonely nights fade away. And I’m back with the only man I’ve ever loved. The man I’ve never been able to forget, even though I’m the one who walked away.

“Kendrick,” he murmurs, his voice rough, filled with a longing that matches my own.

I tilt my head up, my lips parting as his face inches closer, the space between us dissolving with each heartbeat. The air feels thick and charged as if we’re both teetering on the edge of what feels like temptation. We both know it is way too soon for us to be feeling this way. But just as his lips brush mine, just as I can feel his warmth, the soft murmur of his breath—

His phone buzzes, and reality crashes over us, bringing us harshly back to the present.

Cass’s hand slips reluctantly away from my waist as he glances at the screen, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. ‘I need to take this,’ he murmurs, his voice tinged with regret. “It’s Derrick, my manager.”

“Yes, of course,” my world spins. Gathering my composure, I quickly stammer, “Cass, we shouldn’t be doing this anyway. Not now—not ever.”

He looks at me, his expression a mix of frustration and understanding. “Okay. But just know I’m here, and I’m not going to allow you to run away again—Not this time.” When my eyes widen in surprise, he mutters, “Not now that I know about my daughter.”

I nod in sudden understanding of the real reason he wouldn’t let me go. I step back, forcing myself to regain distance and some stability. “I know, Cass. I understand.”

We stand there in silence for just another moment, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between us. My eyes search his face for some clue on how to proceed, but there is none.

As he finally puts the phone to his ear, I slip down the hallway, feeling his eyes follow me.

It’s much later when I can finally slow the chaotic thoughts in my mind enough to sleep. Hearing him get that call from Derrick shook me. I keep comparing this Cass to the man I used to know and love. They’re so similar and yet different. His eyes are the same intense blue, and his face is more chiseled and mature. His shoulders are broader, his dark hair is still long, and his arms are just as strong as they used to be.

I remember how we’d spend hours together, all tangled up in bed lost in our own little world. How it felt to catch him staring, how it felt when he made love to me.

When I do fall asleep, my dreams are filled with unfinished music and songs. When I finally wake, there’s a strange restlessness—a yearning for the love we used to share so effortlessly. Back when life was sweet and simple, and I still believed in happily ever afters.

It’s a reminder that despite everything, there’s still a connection between us, no matter how much time has passed.