Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Eyeballs don’t make the best earrings,” I say. “These look much prettier.”
“It’s because they’re the same color as Aurora’s eyes, not actually Aurora’s eyes.”
“That’s probably it,” I say. “They look beautiful on you, darling.”
She wraps her arms around my waist. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, holding her close.
I think my six-year-old daughter just gave me her blessing to have a life of my own.
In fact, maybe it wasn’t a blessing. Maybe it was a request. Maybe Gabby was right, and Willow would feel less pressure if she knew I had something in my world other than her.
Gabby insists I stay while Willow eats her snack and then I head out. Willow doesn’t make a fuss. She doesn’t even run to the door to show me out. I just kiss her goodbye and leave her coloring with Lucia.
“She’s in good spirits,” I say to Gabby, as we head to the front door.
“She’s growing up,” she replies. “She can handle stuff.”
I nod. “Yeah. I mean, it’s early days, but so far so good.”
“There are bound to be bumps in the road,” she says. “All we can do is try to be as supportive as we can as she navigates them.”
I don’t say anything, but all I think is how I don’t want Willow to have to navigate bumps in the road. I want to flatten the road out for her. I want her to have an easy ride through life.
But as the thoughts form in my head, I know they’re not realistic. She’s bound to have ups and downs.
“You know when we separated,” Gabby says, “we both agreed that it would be better for Willow to have two parents who were happy apart than two parents who were miserable together?”
I nod.
“I’m really happy,” Gabby says, absentmindedly placing her hand on her bump.
“I’m glad.”
“I want that for you too,” she says.
“I’m happy,” I say. “I’m not miserable.”
“Not being miserable is not the same as being happy,” she says, offering me a small smile. “Willow is going to be okay. She might melt down over missing her old bedroom or leaving a toy here when she’s at the townhouse, but she’s going to be okay. And she’s going to be even more okay if her dad is happy.”
I really think Willow is going to be okay about the changes that are coming up. And I can see how coming from a happy home makes Willow happy. Maybe Gabby’s right.
“You’re a good mom, Gabby,” I say. Gabby makes a good friend too. We were never meant to be together in a romantic sense, but I’m glad to have her in my life.
Gabby grins. “Thanks. You’re a good dad.”
I am a good dad. But I’m not sure I’m happy. I’m not sure I’ve been really happy other than when I’m with Willow or Aurora. Aurora with the eyes like emerald-colored stick-on jewels, only a thousand times more beautiful.
THIRTY-NINE
Aurora
Since Deacon left the hotel, it feels like work is my only escape from thoughts of him. While I’m at Hotel on Ninth Street, I can block Deacon out and focus on the job. Even though he was such an important guest, I’m too busy to focus on anything but what I’m doing.
I’m in reception when a courier drops off an envelope for Poppy. I tell Tao I’ll take it to her. He’s busy and we’re a team.
I love working for Avril and Poppy. They’ve become friends and have given me a sense of belonging that I didn’t expect to have at all, let alone so quickly. I’ll miss them when I’m gone. I’ll miss this place and the people who have all been so welcoming.
I cross the lobby and knock on the door to Avril and Poppy’s office and go inside.
“Hi, Aurora, come in,” Avril says. “Poppy just went for coffee. You want me to text her to get you one?”
“I’m good, thank you. A courier just dropped this package for Poppy.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a coffee? I need a break and gossip.”
I finally shrug. “Sure. I’ll have a latte.”
“Regular milk?”
I smile at her question. I’m not sure I’ve completely settled into New York because I’m not ordering oat milk or almond milk or any other type of milk other than…normal milk. “Yeah, regular milk.”
She texts the request on her phone and we both head over to the table by the window.
“Are you stressed?” I ask her. “Or just hunting around for scandal?”
“Both, I think. I need a distraction because I’ve just been going through candidates for the general manager job again, since the last round of interviews was a disaster. Poppy says the problem is I’m looking for a carbon copy of you.”
My stomach swoops at the mention of my replacement. I hate the idea that someone else will be walking in my shoes soon. Will they care enough? Will they fit in? Any team is a delicate dynamic. A bad general manager could really upset what Avril and Poppy have so carefully built.