“No, Charlie. I’m just not good at this stuff. This is why everyone always leaves. Because I mess up. And now your daughter has a broken arm and is wearing a cast.” She was gasping as if she couldn’t catch her breath.
It killed me to hear her like this.
I couldn’t wake Harper up and take her over there.
“Come over here, baby,” I said. “I am not upset with you. This could have happened to anyone. Come home.”
“Charlie, this is on me,” she cried. “I think we need some time to figure things out.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed the back of my head.
This was her MO. She felt like she’d messed up, and she was going to retreat.
“Don’t run, Firefly. Everyone’s okay,” I said, desperate to soothe her.
“Harper is not okay. You’re not okay. I’m not okay.”
“This is love, Violet. It’s not perfect. It’s messy. And we’re going to have our ups and downs. We’re going to make mistakes. But we’re a family, and we don’t run,” I said. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How is Harper?” she croaked.
“Harper is fine. She loves her cast. She took a bath, and she loved the dinner you sent over. She’s sound asleep.”
“Is she mad at me?” she asked, and her words wobbled.
“No. She actually told me that you’re a real mama. You make her feel safe, and that’s why she went down that slide. Because she was with you. You’re what she’s been missing, Firefly.”
She sniffed several times, and I heard her trying to catch her breath again.
“Can you send me a text in the morning and let me know how she’s doing?”
“Of course. Why don’t you just come over and sleep here? This is your home,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Charlie Huxley. Good night.”
She ended the call, and I felt my chest squeeze.
Because it felt final.
Like she wasn’t saying goodbye for the night—it felt like she was saying goodbye to us.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Violet
Montana had come over late last night after calling to check on me, and she found I was spiraling with worry. She’d spent the night with me, and I was grateful she was here.
“Did you finally sleep?” she asked when I padded out to the kitchen.
She poured me a cup of coffee and handed it to me.
“Yes. I got some sleep. I’m so sorry for keeping you up so late.”
“Stop, Vi. This is what friends do for each other. You’ve always been there for me. I know it’s hard for you to ask for help, but I want to be there for you.” She came to sit on the barstool beside me.
“Well, thank you. You helped me a lot. I wanted to pack my bags and leave the country last night.” I chuckled. “I don’t know why I always want to leave when I mess up.”
“First of all. You’re being too hard on yourself. You didn’t mess up. You took her down a slide. You were with her. You can’t help that some lunatic children jumped on behind you and rolled on top of her,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
