Home to You

“Give me your phone.” He holds his hand out. I don’t bother to argue. I know what he’s doing, and I’m okay with it. It’s been far too long since my phone has held the contact name, Sebastian. “There.” He hands it back to me. “Now I have yours too. I’ll call you.”

I nod. This is eerily familiar yet so very different. “Thank you for dinner. Miss Chloe, don’t forget to practice your balance,” I say, putting my dance instructor hat back on.

“Oh, I won’t. See you next week, Miss Haven.” With a wave, they step away from my car, and I settle behind the wheel, shutting the door behind me. Just as before, he gives me a short beep, letting me know to pull out, and I do. He follows me nearly to my parents’ place. I have no idea if it’s out of his way, but I do know that my heart is squeezing in my chest, and there’s emotion clogging my throat as the memories of what we had and what we lost filter through my mind.

Chapter 3

Sebastian 3

“Daddy, I want to be a dancer like Miss Haven when I grow big,” Chloe says as I tuck her into bed and reach for her favorite stuffed chick.

“Sweetheart, you can be anything you want. Being a dancer is going to take a lot of hard work and determination, but you can do it,” I reassure her, sliding the yellow animal under the blanket.

“What’s deternation?” she asks, those hazel eyes gazing up at me in question and wonder.

“Determination. It means you’re set in your decision or focused to get something done. Like when you want cookies for dessert and you’re determined to get them,” I tell her with a smile.

Her own grin sweeps across her face. “I want cookies for dessert! I’m deternammed.”

I chuckle at her insistence. “You had a fudge pop before your bath. That’s plenty of dessert for tonight.” I pull the blankets up and bend down to kiss her cheek. I can smell the strawberry shampoo she insists on using, and the fruitiness of her body wash.

Chloe yawns and snuggles the chick close. “Can I get a baby chickie, Daddy?”

I inwardly groan at her simple question. This is just another thing my darling daughter has been mighty determined at. She wants a baby chick, and every time she asks for one, I get closer and closer to giving in. No, I don’t know jack shit about raising chickens, but if my baby girl wants a chicken, well, I’m willing to learn. Besides, there are resources I can use locally to find out what I need to know. Haven’s parents actually live on a small farm on the edge of town. They have horses, a few goats, and some chickens and ducks. They sell the eggs and vegetables at the local farmers market.

“We’ll see, sweetheart. You need to go to sleep,” I tell her, standing up.

“I not sleepy,” she whispers as her eyes fall closed.

Smiling, I walk quietly toward the door. “Night, baby girl. Sweet dreams.”

“Night night, Daddy. Love you.”

My heart soars with happiness at her words. “Love you too.”

I don’t pull the door closed completely, but enough to ensure it’s quiet in her room. I head straight for the laundry room and toss the load of dirty towels into the washing machine. Once in the kitchen, I gaze out over the backyard through the window above the sink. Any remaining light from the sun is almost gone, and night is closing in. My mind, of course, returns immediately to Haven. I wonder if she loves starry night skies as much as she used to.

I think back to how she looked earlier this evening. Her long, curly hair piled high on her head. Her shapely body accentuated by a sexy leotard. Those intoxicating green eyes that used to gaze up at me with so much love and trust when she was naked beneath me. Adult Haven is everything I imagined her to be, and I’m pretty sure my cock agrees, if the hardness in my pants is any indication.

Haven and I used to do everything together. Most of my teenage memories involve her in one form or another. We were young when we got together, just barely sixteen, and very quickly, my world became wrapped in hers. We used to cruise the country roads in my old beat-up truck, listening to old Waylon and Willie songs, her snuggled up beside me in the center of the bench seat. Dances and football games, pep rallies, and movie dates. At the time, I thought I’d have her forever.

Until that acceptance letter to Juilliard.

There was no way I could tell her no. No way I would ask her to stay. She had one dream, and that was to dance. This was the biggest opportunity of her life, and I refused to stand in the way of it, even though I wanted to. I wanted her to stay with me, but deep down, I knew she’d regret it and resent me in the process. So, at eighteen years of age, I did the hardest thing I’ve ever done.