For Their Child's Sake

“She isn’t coming back, is she?”

He wanted to lie and tell her Daisy was fine, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie now that she had figured it out. “She’s not. I’m sorry, baby.”

Marley flung her arms around his neck, and warm tears landed on his bare skin as he comforted her with a strong hug. He held tight, letting her deal with her emotions however she needed to.

“I don’t know what happened to her.” Marley’s tearful, muffled voice came from the crook of his neck. “I just remembered a flash of her going to the back door, but the door was stuck and I had to take her out the front, but she ran off without me.”

Another layer of guilt because Sam had been supposed to fix that door. There was a spot on their rear porch where they’d hooked Daisy so she could walk into the side yard and onto the porch and to her bed near the porch swing. But the door had been stuck that day and Sam hadn’t gotten it fixed... Instead, he’d gone and gotten his own fix.

Marley had let Daisy out the front door, but the gate hadn’t been closed and the dog had chased a cat and been hit by a car.

Sam recalled that same back door was the one he’d nearly ripped off the hinges the day he’d left. A few days after Tara had kicked him out, he’d been sober enough to come by and fix it while he knew she’d be at work.

He’d sanded it down and repaired it, but it was still the same door. It didn’t stick anymore, but he still hated that damn thing and he hated even more that his innocent daughter was sobbing in his arms yet again over the loss of her beloved pet.

“We’ll get a new dog,” he promised her. He probably should discuss this with Tara, but right now, Sam would promise Marley anything to get her to stop crying. “You really need to rest and we can talk about Daisy later. But you’ve had enough trauma for one day.”

Marley eased back and sniffed as she nodded. “My next dog will have to be named Daisy.”

Sam smiled as he framed her delicate face and swiped her tears away. “Name her anything you want.”

He said nothing more as she slid off his lap. Marley made her way to the couch and cozied up into a ball before Sam slipped from the room. He hoped she could rest and not lie there and cry, but he would be checking in on her shortly to make sure.

Sam eased the pocket doors shut to help drown out some of the noise. They were one of the things he loved about this old cottage they’d lived in. The charm of this home they’d found together, combined with the stylish way Tara always kept each room decorated, always made Sam feel like this was a sanctuary—their sanctuary.

His bare apartment didn’t come close to feeling like a home or looking as amazing as this house.

Sam stepped into the kitchen just as Tara sat her cell on the table. She offered him a forced smile and he hated that he’d done this to her. Hated that he’d taken the genuine smile from her lips, taken the light from her eyes.

“She’s resting,” he said, nodding toward the living room. “But she just remembered Daisy isn’t here anymore. She doesn’t know how she died, but understandably Marley is pretty upset.”

“Of course she is. Damn it, I don’t like this,” Tara repeated. He’d lost count of how many times she’d said that since being given the doctor’s advice. Tara left no room for questions on where she stood regarding their opinions.

Tara rubbed her forehead, then raked her hand over her face. Despite the fact that Sam found his wife stunningly beautiful at all times, he couldn’t deny how exhausted she appeared. She had to be in a rough position, worried about Marley and having the one man she couldn’t stand the sight of back in her house.

He couldn’t blame her. There had been days he couldn’t stand the sight of himself, either. But then he’d healed, he’d started taking a whole new outlook on life. And he was damn well going to keep moving forward until he was proud of himself again.

Without thinking, Sam took a step and started to reach for her. He hesitated, his hand in the air between them. Tara glanced from his extended arm to his eyes. Her silence was more of a green light than he’d experienced in a year.

Slowly he reached for her, feathering his fingertips across her face. Her eyes remained locked onto his and he wasn’t sure if either of them had taken a breath.

“Sam.”

He said nothing as he slid her hair behind her ear and left his hand right there, right at the edge of her jawline where she had a sensitive spot.

“I know you don’t want me here and I promise not to make things difficult.” Yet he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. “Just because we’re getting divorced doesn’t mean I don’t care. You’re tired, Tara.”

“I’ll rest when she’s better.” Her bottom lip quivered a second before she glanced away. “I appreciate you being here for her, though.”

Anger bubbled within him.

“Where did you think I’d be? She’s my daughter.”

Tara shook her head. “She is, but—”

“Are you going to go there?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you going to throw my past into my face? Fine, let’s bring it out into the open again. I know I didn’t make it to her birthday party. I’m well aware I missed bedtime stories and tucking her in more times than I can count, and I’m damn well aware of the fact that I let you down. I’ll say it until you believe it, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the hell you had to endure.”

Tara closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. Sam had to fist his hands at his sides to keep from reaching for her again. He was angry, but mostly at himself. No, he didn’t like that she was going to bring up the wall that had divided them, but at the same time, he deserved no less.

She’d see eventually that he’d changed, that his separation from her would be his penance until the day he died. That didn’t mean he’d ever give up showing her that he still cared...that he still loved her.

“I didn’t mean to bring it up,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I know you worked hard to get clean, but this past year has been rough and now with Marley...”

Never in the past had he questioned when to comfort and hold Tara, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. They were in this together and seeing her hurt absolutely ripped his heart to shreds.

Sam closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her. When she stiffened, Sam gritted his teeth and cursed every blasted pill he’d ever popped, every lie he’d ever told, every tear he’d ever caused her to shed.

“You can trust me to be here for this,” he murmured against her ear. “You can trust that this recovery period will be me as the foundation and the rock. I promise you.”

She didn’t return his hug; her arms dangled limp at her sides. But she rested her forehead on his chest. That small act proved she still cared for him. Maybe that was even worse than having her hate him. If they cared for each other, but couldn’t find a way to be together, wasn’t that the worst punishment of all?

“Group hug.”

Sam glanced to the doorway as Marley smiled and came at them with her little arms open wide. He turned his attention back to Tara. She sniffed as she glanced up and met his eyes when Marley wrapped her arms around them...or tried to, anyway.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Sam said, not taking his eyes off his wife.

When Tara remained still, Sam slid his hands down her arms and eased them onto her waist.

“Group hug,” he murmured.

“I don’t want to rest. I can’t stop thinking about Daisy and my heart hurts.” Marley eased back, then frowned. “Why is Mom crying?”

They were quite the trio of depressing emotions at the moment. Was it even possible they could all heal each other? Sam sure as hell hoped so because he didn’t want to see his girls this upset over anything ever again.

“I’m so glad you’re home and safe. I’m so sorry about Daisy. She loved you very much.” Tara pulled away from Sam and bent to face Marley. “What do you say we paint? I bought new canvases the other day.”

“Paint?” Marley seemed surprised by the request, but then her face lit up. “I love to paint.”

And she was damn good at it, too, even for her age. They’d given her art lessons and she was simply a creative spirit. Sam hoped she hadn’t lost the natural talent. She still had her love of cooking, so perhaps the art would be there, as well.

“Why don’t you two paint? I need to step out for a bit.”

Tara’s eyes instantly came to his. That invisible barrier of protection immediately slid up between them. The way she looked at him, he knew exactly what she was thinking, and, damn it all, he wished she didn’t immediately go to the past.

Yes, when he’d been vague about his outings in the past, he had been going to get a fix, but how long was he going to have to be reminded of that? Did her mistrust have an expiration date?

As much as he wanted to defend himself, he was tired of using words to justify his actions. From here on out, she’d have to learn to trust him or he had no hope of Tara ever moving on and fully understanding just how far he’d come. And he realized they’d never find what they once had, but he sure as hell hoped that, for the sake of Marley, they could be friends without all of the side-eye glances and questioning gazes.