The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless 13)

But I looked into eyes identical to mine in so many ways.

Identical in intensity. Identical in sorrow.

He knew.

He stopped in the doorway as he took a breath. Then he dropped his palm so the door would close behind him and came to my desk.

I wasn’t upset that Atlas told him.

It’d been weeks. Couldn’t keep it a secret much longer.

But I didn’t expect my dad to come down to my office in the middle of the day, not when he had work to do and so did I.

He stared at me for a few seconds, as if he didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t either.

“Your mom is in the middle of something and couldn’t get away.”

“It’s no big deal…”

He continued to watch me, his arms by his sides, wearing a black hoodie. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

I wanted to tell him to leave, that I didn’t need his pity, but all I was doing was sitting there and staring at paperwork like it was a TV screen. I shut the folder and got to my feet, grabbing my purse as I came around the desk.

His arm immediately encircled me, and he pulled me into his side, placing a kiss against my temple, his strong arm squeezing me tightly. When he pulled his lips away, he rubbed the arm that he held. “Where do you want to go, sweetheart?”

There was this high-end brunch spot that I liked. Avocado toast, breakfast bowls with quinoa and veggies, fat waffles made out of almond flour, and freshly squeezed orange juice. Sometimes I went there with my friends. The tables were white with flowers on every single surface, and the menus were pink. It wasn’t a place my dad would ever go, but he didn’t care.

We spent most of the time not talking at all.

I took my time picking what I wanted, and he immediately picked out the healthiest thing he could find on the menu.

Then we went back to not talking.

I drank my orange juice.

He stuck to water.

I sat with my arms on the table, my fingers spinning my earring in place.

“I’m sorry.”

My eyes flicked to his, seeing the sincerity in the look. “Yeah…me too.”

“It was the fertility issue?”

I nodded. “Should have listened to you.”

“You were trying to help, sweetheart. I’m surprised he doesn’t understand that.”

“He does, but…” I shrugged. “Said he didn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t accept him. I said that I did accept him, that I’m happy to adopt if it comes to that, but…that’s not how he saw it.”

“Maybe he will after some time.”

“I don’t think so.” He’d jumped ship quickly, severing our ties so we wouldn’t have to see each other again.

“He’ll realize that you’re irreplaceable, Daisy.”

“No. I fought for him the best I could.” I shook my head. “But he had his mind made up.”

Dad dropped his gaze.

I refused to cry in a public place, in front of my dad, but it was getting more challenging by the second.

“I think this is a touchy topic for him, and he responded the way everyone does to trauma—by running away. When he’s had some time to cool off, to brush it off, to live a mediocre life without you, he’ll have a change of heart.”

“He said I’ll leave him if he can’t have children…”

“But you won’t.”

“I know I won’t. But he…” I inhaled a breath to keep the tears back. “He’s afraid I will. He’s afraid that when the time comes, I’ll realize what I really want and dump him the way his cunt ex-wife did. He’s afraid that I don’t really want adopted children, that I’m holding on to false hope, and when that hope is extinguished…that’s it.”

“I understand his fear. He’s been through a lot.”

I watched other people eating their food, enjoying their mornings, while mine had been as bleak as a stormy sky. “But he should know I would never do that.”

“His wife promised to love him in sickness and in health…”

“Well, she was a bitch, and I’m not. Well, I’m not a bad bitch. I mean, I am a bad bitch. But the good kind.”

Dad wore a slight smile, amused rather than annoyed by my excessive use of the b-word. “Give him time.”

“I don’t know…don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you to drive him away…when you’re all he has.”

“We’re close, so I feel like I need to talk to him about it, regardless.”

“What did you say when he told you?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I asked incredulously. “He told you we broke up, and you just…walked out?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t even try to console him or make him feel better. He came straight to me instead. “Dad…”

“I care about him like a son, but…not the way I care about you.”

I stared down at my orange juice, touched by what he said. “It’s been really hard…not going to lie. It makes my breakup up with Mason look like a bump in the road and nothing more.”