“You’re angry,” Adelaide continued, “over the brochure I gave to your father.”
He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. Not yet. He wasn’t in control.
“Did he tell you I gave him the brochure?” She sat up. “He didn’t want it. He said sending you there would be deserting you and he wouldn’t do that.”
For a second, Diana stopped chipping.
“It’s my professional opinion that you’re a risk to yourself.” Adelaide paused. “Last night only affirms my belief that Serenity Heights is the best option for—”
Screw control. “She’s not going,” he cut in—but he didn’t sound like himself. The words were hard and clipped and raw.
Diana jerked back, her bloodshot, kohl-lined eyes locking with his.
“I need you to listen.” He swallowed, the jagged wedge shoved in his throat making it hard to say what needed to be said. “I didn’t want to let your mother go, Diana. You know, I hope you know, how much I loved her. But she was so tired, baby girl. And she’d been hurting for too long.” He stopped, the horrible pain on his daughter’s face silencing him. There was no way to do this without pain.
“Losing your mother was hell—for both of us. You needed me, and I wasn’t there. You lost your mom and you lost me, too…” He broke off, his voice wobbling and his eyes burning furiously. “I screwed up, and I’m so sorry, Di. I let you down, over and over. I get it, why you hate me, I do.” It hurt to suck in the air to keep going. “I won’t send you away, but I won’t let you keep me out, either. Whatever I need to do to fix us, I’ll do it. But you have to give me a chance.”
Big tears streaked down Diana’s pale face, tracking mascara in their wake.
“I love you, Di. And last night—” He closed his eyes, his voice breaking roughly. “Last night was the worst of my life.” He took her hand in his then. “You can’t do that, Di. Get mad at me, yell at me, but running away—I can’t lose you.”
She pressed her hand to her mouth, fighting tears.
“I wasn’t lying to you about a vacation, a real vacation. We can go to the beach house, me and you. You like it there; you used to love it there. Maybe?” He swallowed. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, or that I have answers or know what the hell I’m doing, but we have to try.”
Diana was crying hard, wiping tears away with the back of her other hand. “You promise?”
“What?” he asked, aching to hug her. “Promise what, Di?”
“You’re n-not s-sending me away from you?” Her sobs were hard and angry.
The question split his heart wide open. “I promise,” he whispered, cradling her hand against his chest.
But she was shaking her head.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked. “How do I make you believe me?”
She kept shaking her head, looking so young and lost underneath her smeared makeup.
“You don’t trust your father?” Adelaide was calm—this was her job, after all. “Who do you trust?”
Diana sniffed, tugging her hand from his and pulling a tissue from a nearby box to wipe her face. She blew her nose and curled up in the far corner of the loveseat, looking almost as exhausted as he felt. “You think you know me. Why don’t you tell me?” Eyebrows raised, arms crossed, she stared at Adelaide.
Adelaide clicked the end of her pen and laid it across her tablet. She glanced his way, then focused on his daughter. “Well, only one person comes to mind. As far as I can recall, she’s the only person you both respect and like. I’m assuming that means you trust her as well.”
Diana frowned.
Adelaide knew.
And Graham had no idea who it was. How had he let things get this bad? His daughter was a handful; there was no denying that. But, dammit, he was the parent—he needed to start acting like one.
“Felicity Buchanan,” Adelaide said, instantly dinging Graham’s newfound determination to focus solely on his daughter. The therapist flipped through her notes. “You’ve mentioned her, many times, as a decent person who lives to love her kids.” She flipped a few more pages, reading, “She would do anything to make her kids happy. And she makes you feel safe.”
“Because she gets it,” Diana bit back.
He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he wanted to know. “You need Felicity to talk to you?” Graham asked, confused. How was Felicity supposed to help? He didn’t relish the idea of dragging her into this—especially knowing the amount of crap she was already shouldering.
“What, so she can say whatever you tell her to say?” Diana rested her head on her knees.