Nothing can be given without letting go.
I knock on her door several times before slowly opening it. Morgan quickly wipes her face and hangs her legs off the opposite side of her bed, giving me her back and two cold shoulders.
They could get in a fatal car accident on their way to Disneyland. Someone could take her if she gets too curious and wanders off on her own. A ride could break and kill her. She could get food poisoning, homesick, a flesh-eating fungus from a swimming pool … or a million other things that terrify me.
Or … she could feel the rush of a roller coaster. She could be dazzled by princesses and incredible fireworks displays. She could get her face painted and eat Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes with her new friends. She could gain a sense of confidence away from me. She could spread her beautiful wings.
“I don’t know if the place they’re renting will have a washer and dryer, so pack enough underwear.”
Morgan whips around, mouth in the shape of an O on a huge gasp. “I can go?”
I nod once. Before I can take a breath, she’s in my arms, hugging me so hard it nearly squeezes tears from my eyes. “Daddy … thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love you sooo much. You are the best dad ever!”
“Can I get that in writing?”
She pulls away.
I wipe her residual tears. “I’m going to give you a mile-long list of warnings and precautions I want you to take. You’ve heard them all before, but you have to let me say them again anyway.”
“Absolutely. I’ll pack and you do your dad thing.” She retrieves her bag from under her bed.
I love this girl. She’s my world. My hands will release her … set her free. But my heart can’t let go, which means she will rip it from my chest and carry it with her forever. And I will wait for her to return … for my heart to return.
She packs. I preach.
Then she runs next door to tell Gabe to pack his bag too.
I. Am. A. Wreck.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Gracelyn
He let her go.
I never expected Nate to let Morgan go. His shocking decision meant I had to let Gabe go too. I have no idea if Kyle and Emily would have said yes. Brother Dearest is probably looking down on me, tsking me at this very moment.
I set my microwave dinner on the table and pour a glass of wine. If I’m going to be irresponsible, I might as well go all out. Silence haunts me. I forgot what it’s like to eat alone … to be alone.
Even when Gabe goes to a friend’s house, Mr. Hans is here. I should embrace this moment, but it’s oddly depressing. However, it’s not a foreign feeling. I’m no stranger to loneliness. After my wedding debacle, I embraced it.
Surely I can handle four days of my old life.
After dinner, I take a walk along the beach, curling my toes in the damp sand while the harmonious waves of the tide crawl into the shore. Turning around, a mile or so down the coastline, I make my way back before the sun extinguishes for the night. I step onto the boardwalk and brush the sand from my feet, the creak of a board brings my gaze up.
Nate tips back a bottle of beer, eyeing me from the chair on his deck. I brush my hands together and make my way to the bottom of his stairs.
“You let her go.”
Resting the bottle on the arm of the chair, he nods. “I let her go.” He sounds … different. Monotone. Depressed.
While I, too, fretted over the decision, hence the reason I passed it off onto him, I think—I hope—it was the right one. I messaged my parents about it, of course, after he already left. They agreed it was the right thing to do.
I consider sharing this somewhat comforting information with Nate, but I’m not sure he’s ready to hear it. “Night.” I offer a tiny smile and head home to finish my bottle of wine and binge on Jamie—I mean—Outlander.
Popcorn.
Wine.
Bra off.
Jamie on.
By the end of the second episode, my wine is gone, my cheeks are flushed, and I’m feeling super relaxed.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock …
The knocking continues at a slow but steady pace, like a drunk woodpecker.
“What … is … it?” I say to no one as I take the stairs slowly, like I’m drunk, but I’m not. I’m just … super relaxed.
No shits left to give.
I giggle at my squirrel brain. Then I giggle at my brain calling itself squirrel brain. Finally, I open the door with one hand while I hold what is now just the bottle of wine in my other hand.
“Nathaniel.” I smile. It feels like a good smile. At least I think I can still feel my smile.