Chapter 69

Iwoke up early and had a great idea. I was going to surprise Sloane with a shopping spree. It was something we did on occasion. I wanted to remind her about how much I valued our relationship and wanted to make things right between us. Maybe I was buying her love and forgiveness, but it was also to show her I cared.

If it helped reopen our lines of communication, that was all that mattered.

I knocked on her bedroom door. "Sloane?"

"What?"

I went in to find her in bed with the pillow over her head. "We're going shopping. Get dressed."

"I don't want to."

"I'll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes," I said. "Non-negotiable."

She muttered something under her breath as I walked out. I was still the mom and I could still drag her shopping if I wanted to. I went downstairs. Graham was on the patio putting together one of the new lounge chairs we bought.

"Hey, I'm going to take Sloane shopping," I said. "I think we need some mother-daughter time."

Graham looked up, sweat streaking the dust on his face. "That's a great idea, Isadora. She needs you right now."

"I hope so," I responded, feeling my chest tighten. There was an undeniable rift between Sloane and me now, and part of it was due to Graham being in our lives. Yet there was also the undeniable truth that I loved him—and that love wasn't something I could sacrifice for Sloane's comfort.

"Bring back some dinner?" Graham asked. "Or better yet, I'll cook some steaks on my new grill."

I laughed. "You're just dying to break that thing in."

"Damn straight." He nodded. "You girls have fun. When you get home, you'll have an amazing dinner."

Despite Sloane's initial complaints, she was downstairs and ready to go. She was a teenage girl—shopping was an excellent way to get through to her. We went to her favorite store first.

As we walked through the trendy boutique, Sloane's icy demeanor began to thaw. She picked up a pair of ripped jeans and inspected them critically, her eyebrows furrowed deep in concentration.

"If you like them, try them on," I offered, trying to break the silence.

She said nothing but carried the jeans to the changing room, grabbing a red blouse on the way. While she was inside, I browsed through racks and picked a few items I thought she might like. The truth was, I missed sharing these small moments with her and being part of her world.

When Sloane emerged from the fitting room in the jeans and shirt, my heart swelled. "You look beautiful," I said, and this time her response was a small smile that tinged her cheeks with a hint of pink. A breakthrough, however small.

As the day wore on, Sloane began to warm up. We tried on silly hats and oversized sunglasses, laughed at outrageous outfits, and even exchanged whispered critiques about the fashion choices of other shoppers. It was like old times, and my heart ached with a strange combination of happiness and sorrow—happiness for this precious moment, and sorrow for all the moments we had lost.

In the end, Sloane carried bags full of new clothes out of the store. We left them in the car and went to grab something to eat.

"Sloane," I began tentatively, knowing she probably wouldn't want to hear any more about it. "I still want to talk to you about Graham."

Sloane's expression remained guarded. "What?"

"I know that what happened between Graham and me must have been confusing for you," I said, my words coming out in a rush. "And I want you to know that I'm open to answering any questions you might have. I didn't mean to keep you in the dark, and I'm sorry if it hurt you."

Sloane's gaze softened slightly, but there was still a hint of hurt in her eyes as she spoke. "Did you even think about how I'd feel?" she asked quietly.

"I did, but in trying to protect you, I think I made you feel worse," I admitted, feeling the weight of my mistakes pressing down on me. "I'm sorry, Sloane. I should have done better. I wasn't sure what was happening between Graham and me. I thought it would be better if we figured things out before we told you. So, yes, I was thinking about your feelings. I just got it wrong."

Sloane's expression softened a little. "It's okay, Mom," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. "I know you're not perfect. None of us are. But I just wish you had been honest with me from the start. I didn't need to wake up and see you tiptoeing out of his room. Seriously, gross."

She was right. I had made mistakes, but I was determined to learn from them and do better in the future. "I promise, Sloane. I'm going to try to be more honest, even when it scares me."

"Thanks."

"That means I need to tell you something else."

She groaned. "Now what?"

"I've fallen back in love with Graham," I confessed, my words tumbling out in a rush.

Sloane's fork clattered against her plate, her eyes widening in shock. "What?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Mom, did you even think about what would happen if this all goes to pieces? You said you loved him before and look how that ended."

"Sloane, that was very different," I replied. "I never stopped loving him. We were young and made plenty of mistakes back then, but loving him wasn't one of them."

Sloane's expression softened slightly, but there was still a hint of anger in her eyes. "You and Graham started this relationship on lies," she pointed out, her tone accusing. "And now you're moving in together under the guise of being a happy family."

Anger and frustration bubbled up inside me. I was getting a little tired of her critiquing me and my choices. "Sloane, I just want a chance to get to know your dad without our history pushing him away again," I insisted, my voice tinged with desperation. "It's not my fault that he had to leave in the beginning. Our romance got cut short because of forces outside our control. I love him and he loves me. It wasn't his fault that things turned out the way they did."

Sloane's expression hardened, her teenage stubbornness shining through. "I don't care whose fault it is," she shot back. "I just don't want you to be the reason I lose my father again. I just found him, after you kept him from me for so long, and now, it could all disappear if you break his heart. If you decide he's not good enough, like Grandpa says, then what happens? You kick him out of the house? I get abandoned again?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. I wanted to reach out to her, to reassure her that everything would be okay, but I couldn't. Not yet. It was why I wanted to wait to reveal our secret, so there wouldn't be this fear that it would all get taken away from her.

"That would never happen," I said. "Never. Graham is never going anywhere. We bought the house because we both want you. We want to spend time with you and not have to do the visitation agreements. We are in this for the long run."

She didn't look like she believed me. I was glad I finally got to the heart of the problem, but it stung. It killed me to think she thought I would take her father away on purpose. Or that Graham would ever walk away from her.

"Let's go home," I said after we finished eating. I was no longer in the mood for shopping.

We rode back in silence. As we pulled into the driveway, sadness and regret hit me. I knew that I had a lot of work to do to repair the damage I had caused, but I was determined to do whatever it took to make things right with Sloane and with Graham.

Sloane stormed off to her room as soon as we got home. Graham had just been coming into the foyer and witnessed her stomping off.

"That good?" he asked.

"She's just feeling particularly moody today." I sighed. "I've been trying to reason with her, but it's like talking to a brick wall."

Graham nodded with understanding, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze mine. "I'll give it a shot," he offered.

"Thank you," I murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"It'll be okay," he reassured me.

"I'm going to get the rest of the bags," I said.

I was tempted to go up and listen to what she told him but resisted. I had to respect her privacy, even if it meant facing the uncertainty of not knowing where we stood. Graham would tell me later.

I carried in the last of the bags, dropping them on the table. What if Sloane couldn't accept our relationship? What if I had to choose between her and Graham? If she really didn't want me to see Graham, could I keep doing it? What if it pushed her all the way away from me?

The sound of footsteps approaching snapped me out of my reverie.

"She needs some time," Graham said with a shrug. "She's not ready to talk yet."

"I understand." I sighed.

"We'll figure this out," he said.

"She's worried we're going to break up and you're going to leave or I'm going to push you away," I said.

"Why would she think that?"

I gave him a dry look. "Because of our past."

"We were kids."

"She doesn't see it that way," I told him.

"We'll have to make her understand, then," Graham said firmly, his voice resonating with determination. He was ready for this fight, ready to bridge the gap that threatened to tear us apart. I was glad. I wasn't sure I could handle this crazy up and down stuff. It was killing me.

"I picked up some steaks," he said, changing the subject. "They're marinating. Everyone loves a good steak. Maybe it will put her in a better mood."

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't count on it. I took her shopping and spent way too much money and she soured on me."

Graham chuckled and patted my shoulder. "Well, when it comes to teenagers, maybe steaks have a higher success rate than shopping."

I smiled at his optimism and nodded. "Okay, let's give it a try. Although I think you might be talking about teenage boys. They are two very different breeds of teens."

"Maybe our daughter is a carnivore." He grinned.

As we cooked together, Graham surprised me by sharing stories about his own teenage years. He painted a picture of himself as an awkward, rebellious young man who had put his parents through hell but had eventually found his way to adulthood.

"Teenagers are tough," he said. "My mom warned me about the challenges of the teen years. We'll make it."

I chuckled at that, picturing a young, wilder version of Graham. "I just hope Sloane doesn't make us tear out our hair before she gets there," I said.

Graham laughed and pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. "I think we'll manage. We're stronger than we look."

Feeling more reassured, I leaned into him as we stood in front of his new grill. Yes, I had a daughter that wasn't speaking to me, but I also had an amazing guy and a beautiful house. As far as silver linings went, it wasn't too bad.

I would find a way to get Sloane comfortable with me dating her father. Then everything would be perfect.