Page 92 of The Sandbar saga

He had regrets.

At the time, he believed he was doing what was best for her. In the end, he'd only been one more person that refused to love her enough.

"I have always loved you." His throat closed, but he continued. "I love you deeper than you will ever know."

She rubbed her hands together, but not before he noticed the shaking. "Don't do this to me."

He reached forward and placed his hand on her leg. "If it takes a lifetime, I will show you, in all ways possible, how I've loved you from the beginning. Your leaving practically destroyed me."

She whined, standing up, and stepping away. Watching her pace, he stopped from saying any more, afraid that she would leave. That he'd push her too far, too fast. He couldn't lose her again.

"We're neighbors, you know," she blurted, laughing bitterly. "I bought the house where I grew up."

He tensed, not expecting that bit of information. "Katie..."

It wasn't healthy for her to live in the past. She needed to let go of her need to have her mother's love and forgive herself for a child's thoughts regarding her father.

"You might want to update your file on me. A lot has changed in five years." She faced him. "The woman I had always believed was my mother is dead. She died in a car crash three years ago, but not before I found out that she came into my life when she married my dad when I was one year old. She's not my real mother. The woman who I believed was my piano teacher and my father's mistress, Miss Cynthia, who also died with my dad out on the sandbar, was the woman who gave birth to me."

"How did you...?" He rubbed his hands over his face. "Jesus Christ. How did you find out?"

"Did you know all this time?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not at all."

"I wondered." She exhaled softly. "When I was pregnant with Callie, I needed to know my medical history. The doctor urged me to ask my parents if any illness or medical concerns run in the family. I don't know if it was my pregnancy hormones or the need to do everything possible for the baby I was growing inside of me, I contacted...who I thought was my mom, and she told me the truth. Then, she asked me never to contact her again, which I was more than happy to do. A year and a half later, she made the news when she crashed her car on Highway 101 with her boyfriend in the passenger seat. She died. He didn't."

"I..." He leaned back in the chair and blew out his breath. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with another death."

"Don't be." She crossed her arms. "For how many times I wished she would've died instead of my dad, it finally hap—"

"Katie." He stood, going to her. "We've gone over how you are not responsible for your father leaving the night he died."

She stared at his bare chest. "I've known for a long time that I never caused his death, but thoughts are a dangerous thing. They hold all our true feelings. Those spoken and those never shared."

As if physically slapped, he rocked back on the heels of his feet. He was guilty of not allowing her to know he loved her. He'd kept it to himself to protect her and let her mature.

Believing she'd eventually hate him and come to believe he brainwashed her into loving him because of his position in her life, he'd pushed away his natural instinct to love her.

He not only harmed himself, but worse, he hurt her.

Had he killed the love she freely gave him?

Katie's shoulders rounded before she straightened her back and walked past him toward the house.

He turned. "Katie?"

She paused without turning around. "I'm going to wake our daughter up and take her home."

Powerless to stop her. It was apparent that he was no longer in Katie's life. That though she allowed him to have glimpses of his daughter, to share a few hours with her each week, that he lived separately from her.

That what he received was no more than an appointment to talk with his child. And, if he was lucky, a few sentences exchanged with Katie as she went on living her life.

He reached out, grabbing the chair, and lowered his body down. Facing away from the house, he sat, cupping his head with his hands.

As if losing her all over again, he swore he'd bring her back to him.

She couldn’t be lost to him. He could see her struggling. She loved him. He only had to show her it was okay to trust in that love. To give him another chance.