For Lucy - Page 52

“Lu—” Tatum started to pull away from me as soon as she caught sight of Lucy in the waiting room with our parents.

I grabbed Tatum and turned her toward me, holding her arms, and forcing her to look at me with her back to them.

“Love this baby more. You have to promise to love this baby more than me … more than us.”

Confusion and frustration played on my wife’s tearstained face. And I took a deep breath, as deep as I could, and I made the decision to love Lucy more because that was what my wife asked me to do—that was the promise I made to her.

But more than that … it was the right thing to do. I couldn’t save Austin that day, but I could save Lucy.

“It was me. Will let me go home early. Lucy wanted to FaceTime with her friend. Austin was watching a show. And I decided to run out to the garage to check the oil in the lawn mower and fill it with gas. I told him to stay put and watch his show. It was …” Tears reemerged, burning my eyes again because, while it was a lie, I knew the next part was most likely very true. “It was minutes. I only took my eyes off him for a few minutes.”

Later we would learn a child Austin’s age can drown in under thirty seconds.

Thirty. Seconds.

So much love. So much time. So many memories.

Gone in thirty seconds.

Tatum’s face contorted even more as she slowly shook her head and pried herself out of my hold. “How could you?” she whispered.

It was the first knife of many.

She turned and ran toward our parents and Lucy. Falling to her knees, she hugged Lucy like she was everything. And she was.

I kept my promise to my wife.

Yet she would never know.

And I would accept the consequences.

That was the day I lost my son, my wife, and in many ways … Lucy too.

Chapter Fifteen

Tatum’s parents took Lucy for the night. I brought Tatum home. She went straight to the bedroom and locked me out. I spent the night on the sofa listening to her cry. In the middle of the night, I walked around the pool, eyeing everything the police had already inspected. Austin pulled a chair from the deck to the fence to help him climb over it. It was a miracle it didn’t knock him down the deck stairs. It was heartbreaking that Lucy didn’t hear him because he probably shoved it down the stairs like he did whenever he wanted to move something from one level to another. He was a busybody, fearless and curious.

The next morning, I unlocked the door. Tatum had fallen asleep in a ball on her side of the bed, clothes still on, hands loosely fisted in her hair.

“I’m going to get Lucy,” I said softly.

She didn’t move, didn’t say anything. But I know she heard me. I changed my clothes, the same ones that had been drenched from the pool and headed to Tatum’s parents’ house.

“Emmett.” Tatum’s mom pulled me aside as I stepped into the foyer. “Lucy said it was her fault.” Concern lined her face.

I could hear the TV on in the other room where I assumed Lucy was with Tatum’s dad. “No. It was on my watch.” My throat tightened with emotion.

Tatum’s mom flinched, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded. “I’m going to take her home now.”

“You left Tatum alone?”

“She was sleeping. That’s why I want to get right back home.” I headed toward the living room.

Lucy’s gaze made a slow trip from the TV to me, a sign that she wasn’t right, that she was still in shock too. I knew I had to fix it—fix her as quickly as possible before the damage became permanent.

“Let’s go home, Luce.” It had been a while since I’d picked up my daughter like a little girl and cradled her in my arms, but that was exactly what I did that day. Without another word to Tatum’s parents, I exited the house and buckled her in my truck.

A few blocks from home, I pulled over and killed the engine.

“Look at me, Lucy.”

She slowly brought her gaze to meet mine.

“I should have been home sooner yesterday. Had I been home sooner, Austin wouldn’t have fallen into the pool. It’s my fault. Mom knows it’s my fault. Everyone knows it’s my fault. If you tell people it’s your fault, then Mom will feel like it was really her fault for leaving before I got home. But I should have been there. It was my fault. The blame is mine and only mine. I need you to tell me you understand this. I need you to promise that you will not ever try to make anyone think that is was your fault or your mom’s fault.”

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