“Because I didn’t want it to stress you.”
Guiding my face to hers with gentle fingers, she keeps her hand there, fingertips on my jaw.
I still can’t see her with our mouths only a breath apart. But I see the light shine on the side of her face enough to spot the glossing of her eyes when she asks, “Do you think I’m disgusting for having frosting in my hair?”
“I think you’re adorable.”
Soft fingers trail my jaw up to my cheeks, the tracing of my scars continuing. She can feel the lift of my cheeks—the warmth of a smile.
“Daddy always called me adorable. His adorable princess.” Her shoulders slump. “Who did the most awful thing.”
“He loved you, Dollie. Don’t let that nightmare rule you. Focus on the better times. On all the times he called you princess.”
“Because he was never wrong, right?”
“Not according to him.” A laugh slips out of me, but it falls flat.
“He loved you, too. You know that, right?”
“I think so.” That’s true, I think my father loved me, but he never once said it. I swallow the emotions clogging my throat. “Though it didn’t always feel like it.”
“He told me the night they took you away. I was inconsolable.”
“I remember you screaming.”
“I think my heart broke in that moment.” My fingers spread on her back, pulling her tighter to my body. “He told me he’d miss you, too. That he was sorry for the things that led to it, and that he didn’t know how to make it better any other way.” A sniffle echoes in the silence before her sadness highlights her cheeks. “He did love you, and I’m so sorry I took him from you.”
“That’s not on you.” Our wet cheeks meet before I realize a tear has fallen from my eyes. “I don’t need you to apologize to me, Dollie. I just need you to get through this.I just need you.Their mistake cost us all, Mom and Dad’s. It cost us our childhoods and their lives. Do you really think they wouldn’t forgive you?”
“What if I can’t forgive myself?”
I don’t fucking know, and I’m grateful for the low lights that keep my worry in the dark.
“Maybe we just need some help?” I suggest. “Maybe one of your spells will work?”
“Maybe. Will you help me with it when Shane goes to work tomorrow?”
“Of course.” I nod, my stubble fuzzing her hair. I let her have a moment of silence before attempting to feed her again. “So, pizza?”
“You know I’m not supposed to eat that, right?” She gazes up at me.
“Doesn’t stop you when Annabelle comes over.”
“You know too much.”
“I told you, the walls are thin.”
“I can’t hear anything downstairs from here.”
“Not from up here, but in there.” I point to the walls. “I knew you didn’t believe me about the tunnels all those years back.”
“I thought it was bullshit.”
A laugh leaves us both. Hers cuts off early by the guilt weighing her down in my arms. She nuzzles into my neck, staying close as I stretch to grab a single slice—the biggest one—and guide it to her mouth.
“If you bite it once, I won’t eat the cake. If you bite it twice, I won’t go all big brother and force the rest down your throat.”
“You still wanna claim that title?”
