Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

My heartbeat picks up when her eyes slowly turn into Natalia’s blue ones. They stare at me unblinking, sadness shining in the orbs with a blank expression on her pale face. Goose bumps scatter over my skin and my eyelids spring open as I start freaking out, feeling like she was right here with me.

The guilt consumes me at thinking of her. I’d never regret marrying Natalia because she gave me two beautiful children, but I do regret leaving her to do it. If I would have been more of a man back then and stood up to my dad and his threats, then maybe

I would have a completely different life right now, but the thought of not having Clay and Izzie guts me to the core.

I keep telling myself that we all have a path that we have to walk down; people come in and out of your life for a reason, and maybe she came into my life to show me what real love feels like? Maybe I had my true love back in college and that will have to be enough to last me the rest of my life.

But if that’s true, then why would Natalia be taken from us so cruelly? There’s no sense in that happening; she left behind two kids who needed her.

My head whips around as I hear a scream of pain and I know instantly that it’s Izzie. I’m up off the bench and running toward her immediately, weaving around children who are playing and finally getting to her where she’s sitting by the swings, holding her arm.

“Pumpkin?” I kneel in front of her, holding my hands out, not knowing whether to touch her or not.

“I got hurt.” She sniffles, bringing her arm up to her face and wiping at the tears that stream down her cheeks.

“Where?” She points to her elbow, lifting it toward my face. “Oh, that looks sore.” I lift my gaze back to hers, wiping away more of her tears with my thumb before looking up as a shadow comes over us.

“She tried to swing too high, Dad,” Clay huffs. “I did tell her not to.”

“I wanted to go all the way over the bars!” Izzie shouts, her face screwing up as she looks down at the graze on her elbow. “Maddie at school said she did it.”

I lift my hand, coughing to cover up the laugh bubbling up my throat, and trying not to let my grin show. Some of the things Izzie comes out with are too funny.

“Let’s get you home and cleaned up,” I say softly once I’ve finally got myself under control, putting my hands under her arms and picking her up off the ground. “Let’s not do that again though, okay, pumpkin?”

She nods at me slowly.

“Great! Now we have to go, all because you wanted to go over the top bar,” Clay moans, scuffing his shoes as he follows behind us.

“Clay,” I groan. “Leave your sister alone.”

“Ugh!” He throws his hands up in the air, his head tilted back as he stares up at the sky.

Izzie rests her head on my shoulder and hiccups a sob, whispering, “Love you, Daddy.”

And that right there is everything. To hear those words come out of her mouth and feel her in my arms. Nothing compares to hearing your child say those three words to you. I want her to stay small forever, to always be my little girl, but that won’t happen and I’ll have to deal with her growing up at some point. But right now, I’ll relish in her being this age, because they grow up too fast; I’m afraid I’ll blink and they will be adults themselves.

“Love you too, pumpkin.” I place a kiss on the top of her head and pull the car keys out of my pocket, unlocking the doors.

I place a plate of eggs in front of Izzie and lean back against the counter, picking up my cup and taking a sip of the dark, bitter coffee.

She talks nonstop as she’s eating and I have to tell her several times to use her mouth for more eating and less talking. It works for two seconds before she’s turning to face me and opens her mouth again.

“Did you get the jars, Daddy?”

“I did,” I chuckle. “I told you that five minutes ago. Amelia washed them all out and put them by the front door.”

“Just checking.” She shrugs.

I chuckle at her and shake my head. Ever since she walked out of art class last week, all she’s been asking for is jars. Clay told her furiously that she only needed to take one in with her but she said she wanted to take extras “just in case.”

He tells her this again with a shake of his head to which Izzie sticks her tongue out at him, scooping up a forkful of eggs and trying to fit it all in her mouth. She fails, covering herself in eggs and giggles as she picks them up, eating them off her lap.

“Come on then,” I say after watching them for a few more minutes. I rinse my cup out and place it in the sink. “Time to get ready.”

They both jump down off their stools and barrel forward as Amelia walks through the kitchen door.

“More jars,” she says with a big smile on her face, holding three up in the air.