BROKEN VOWS (Broken Redemption Book 1)

Chapter 2

Emilia

Not even the bright blooms of late spring can quell the sinking feeling in my gut. While their questions come less often now, answering is as painful today as it was back then. Even harder is coming up with answers I can live with since, at 6 and 4 years old, they understand the difference between truth and lies. The belief that honesty is the best policy is a lesson I work hard to teach and what I strive to give them always, except when it comes to this. So instead, I do what comes so naturally now. I evade and settle on a half-truth.

"I don't think daddy will be home by then Lyssie Baby, but Uncle Ben said he would take you, remember?"

Through the rear-view mirror, I search Alyssa's expression for a sign, anything to indicate what she's thinking. Though she attempts to look unfazed, it breaks my heart when a hint of sadness appears on her sweet face. With her attention focused on the passing scene outside her window, I take a moment to check on her little sister sitting next to her on the passenger side. Mallory is quieter than her extroverted big sister, so she's the one I often worry about the most.

"Mally Baby. You doing okay?"

A nod is all she gives me, but as her mother, I can read what's underneath. Right now, she's okay. I guess given her age and how little she remembers of her dad, the significance of a father-daughter dance doesn't register for her. But for Lyssie, she remembers, and it's clear that now more than ever she's feeling her father's absence. Just finishing kindergarten, this first father-daughter dance is a big deal to her. Much bigger than I anticipated, the situation made worse since all her friends are being escorted by their fathers. It's been a long time since I've seen her upset over Creed's absence, but I'm guessing this is a fresh reminder of what she's missing.

It both breaks my heart and fills me with rage. Not only am I furious with her father, but with the school. I mean, a father-daughter dance? How could they host such an event when they know not every child has a father who can take them? It's a cruel thing for an elementary school to do and is yet another way they are failing kids like her—those who don't fit the standard mold—reminding them of yet another way they don't fit in.

"What do you say we have Grammy over for dinner tonight? That way, we can show her your pretty dress. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Still focused on the scene outside, she gives a sad shrug. It's hard to describe the pain a mother feels when she can't protect her child from life's hurts. Everything in me wants to hold her close and fill her up with all my love until she doesn't need it from anyone else, but that's not the way it works. I can't fix this for her. All I can do is hold her hand and love her through her pain. A process made more difficult since I'm still struggling to work through my own.

Pulling up to the school's drop-off line, we park to wait our turn. Since the school year started, there hasn't been a day where my spunky Alyssa hasn't bounced in her seat in anticipation of the bell ringing so she can run inside. But today she's pensive. Quietly sitting. Just watching and waiting. It hurts my heart to see.

"Hey, Lyssie..." I turn in my seat and wait for those forest green eyes, identical to my husband's, to turn their attention to me. "If Daddy could, I know he'd give anything to go to that dance with you. He wouldn't miss such an important occasion if he had a choice. He loves you. Always remember that."

"I know mama." The small smile that crosses her face offers some relief.

While I may not be able to take her pain away, I can offer reassurance that her daddy's absence has nothing to do with how much he loves her. Even as his last words re-play in my mind, I refuse to believe this life we created didn't mean as much to him as it did to me. I know with certainty that he loved our girls, especially as it was their entrance into our lives that drove him deeper into his work. They were the catalyst that further fueled his obsession with seeking justice. It's the one thing I've held onto since he left, that it was his love for our daughters that led him to choose the path he did.