Forever, With You. Sophie Love
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returned, or if he would return at all. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he’d bring his daughter home with him. Now she had to begin to imagine in what ways their lives – and their relationship – would change now that they had a child to care for. They were both standing on new, unsteady ground.
“It sounds like you didn’t have much faith in me,” Emily said quietly.
Daniel fell silent. Then his hand began to stroke her hair. “I know,” he said. “I should have trusted you more.”
Emily sighed deeply. For now that was all she needed to hear; affirmation that it was his lack of trust in her that had turned a difficult situation into something far harder than it needed to be.
“What was it like?” Emily asked, curious, but also in an attempt to get Daniel to open up, to help him not suffer in silence. “Your time in Tennessee, I mean.”
Daniel took a deep breath. “I was staying in a motel. I’d visit Chantelle every day, just to try to shield her, just to be a warm, friendly face. They were living with Sheila’s uncle. There was literally nothing there for a child.” His voice became strained. “Chantelle mainly kept out of the way. She’d learned not to bother either of them.”
Emily’s heart clenched. “Did Chantelle see them using drugs?”
“I don’t think so,” came Daniel’s reply. “Sheila’s living a life of complete disarray but she’s not a monster. She cares about Chantelle, I can tell. But not enough to go to rehab.”
“You tried to get her to go?”
Emily heard Daniel suck air between his teeth.
“Every single day,” he said wearily. “I said I’d pay. I said I’d find them a place so they didn’t have to live with the uncle anymore.” In Daniel’s voice, Emily heard his heartbreak, his hopelessness at the wretched state of his daughter’s life. It sounded unbearable. “But you can’t force someone to change if they’re not ready. Eventually, Sheila accepted that Chantelle would be better off with me.”
“Why didn’t she tell you she was pregnant?” Emily asked.
Daniel laughed sadly. “She thought I would be a bad father.”
Emily couldn’t imagine the sort of man Daniel must have once been to make someone think such a thing. To her, Daniel would be the perfect father. She knew he’d had a bad-boy streak, a rebellious few youthful years, but she was certain that couldn’t have been the real reason Sheila had hidden her pregnancy from him, or kept the existence of their daughter a secret. It was an excuse, a lie uttered by a drug user that shifted blame away from their own failures.
“You don’t believe that, do you?” Emily asked.
She felt Daniel’s hand begin stroking her head again. “I don’t know how I would have behaved six years ago when she was born. Or even when Sheila was pregnant. I wasn’t exactly the committed type. I might have run.”
Emily twisted then so that she was facing Daniel, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, you wouldn’t have,” she implored him. “You would have become a father to that little girl just like you’re doing now. You would have been a good man, done the right thing.”
Daniel kissed her gently. “Thank you for saying that,” he said, though his tone betrayed his uncertainty.
Emily snuggled back into him, her grip tightening. She didn’t want to see him like this, in pain, filled with self-doubt. He seemed on edge, Emily thought, and wondered if he was struggling with the readjustment of being home, of suddenly being a father. Daniel must have been so focused on Chantelle that he had neglected to pay attention to his own emotions, and it was only now, in the warm, cozy, safe carriage house, that he was able to give himself the space to feel.
“I’m here for you,” she said, gently stroking his chest with her hand. “Always.”
Daniel sighed deeply. “Thank you. That’s all I can say.”
Emily knew it came from his heart. Thank you was certainly enough for her for now. She sunk against him and listened to the sound of his breathing slowing as he fell into a slumber. Shortly after, she felt sleep take hold of her too.
They were awoken abruptly by the sound of Chantelle stirring in bed in the room next door. Emily and Daniel leapt up from the couch, disoriented by the sudden brightness in the room. In the fireplace, embers still smoldered.
A moment later, the bedroom door opened a sliver.
“Chantelle?” Daniel said. “You can come out. Don’t be shy.”
The door slowly opened fully. Chantelle stood there, wearing one of Daniel’s oversized shirts, her blond hair tangled across her face. Though she didn’t share Daniel’s dark hair or olive skin, their resemblance was irrefutable. Especially their eyes. They both had the same shade of piercing blue irises.
“Good morning,” Emily said, realizing how stiff she was from the few hours of sleep she and Daniel had had on the couch. “Do you want me to make you some breakfast?”
Chantelle scratched her chin and looked shyly at Daniel. He nodded his encouragement, signaling to her that it was okay to use her voice here, that she wouldn’t be shouted down or called a nuisance in this place.
“Uh-huh,” Chantelle said in a timid voice.
“What do you like?” Emily asked. “I could do pancakes, toast, eggs. Or do you prefer cereal?”
Chantelle’s eyes widened with astonishment and Emily realized with a painful pang that she’d probably never been given a choice before. Perhaps she hadn’t even been given breakfast.
“I’d like pancakes,” Emily said. “What about you, Chantelle?”
“Pancakes,” she repeated.
“Hey, you know what?” Emily added. “We could go up to the big house and have breakfast there. I have blueberries in my fridge so I could put those in the pancakes. What do you think, Chantelle? Would you like to see the big house?”
This time Chantelle began nodding with excitement. Daniel looked relieved that Emily had taken the lead this morning. Emily could tell how bemused he was by the whole thing just by his facial expressions.
“Hey,” she suggested softly, trying not to tread on his toes. “Why don’t you go help Chantelle get dressed?”
He nodded hurriedly, as though slightly embarrassed that it hadn’t even crossed his mind to do so, then led the little girl in a stilted manner to the bedroom to change. Emily watched them go, noting how uncomfortable Daniel seemed by this simple task of fatherhood. She wondered whether part of the difficulties he’d experienced while in Tennessee had also been in the adjustment to the role of a father, whether he’d been so preoccupied with the practical matters – housing, schooling, feeding – that he’d not yet had a chance to focus on the fact he now had to be a dad.
Once everyone was ready, they left the carriage house and went up the gravel drive toward the B&B. Chantelle kicked the little stones along the driveway, laughing at the noises she could make with her shoes. The whole way she clung to Daniel’s hand, though there was nothing comfortable about the gesture in either of them. Daniel seemed stiff and awkward, like he was desperately trying not to do anything wrong or break the fragile creature now entrusted into his care. Chantelle, on the other hand, looked desperate, as though she never wanted to lose hold of Daniel, as if doing so would cause her enormous grief.
Emily wasn’t entirely sure what the best course of action was. Hesitantly, she took the little girl’s other hand in hers and was pleased and relieved to find that Chantelle didn’t flinch or pull away. Daniel, too, seemed much more comfortable with Emily’s involvement and looked more natural. In turn, Chantelle’s clutching on his arm loosened.
Hand in hand, the three of them walked up the porch steps to the front door, and Emily led them inside.
Chantelle hovered on the doorstep, as though unsure whether she belonged in such a place. She looked back to Daniel for encouragement. He smiled