Page 18 of Broken Strings

I glance down at the pick, my heart fracturing. It's the one I bought him the day we got married. "Grayson, I…"

"I'd like to see her when you're ready," he rasps. "I know you don't believe a goddamn word I'm saying right now, but I'm not a danger to her. I won't try to take her from you. I just want to meet my daughter." His eyes shine with unshed tears. "She looks just fucking like you, Mina. She's perfect."

I nod, my throat so tight I can't speak. If I try, the only thing I'm going to do is sob. My heart is already broken, so why does it feel like it's shattering into pieces all over again right now?

"I'll be around, baby," he says, turning to stride toward the door.

I watch him go, desperate to call him back. To tell him…I don't know! My body is still numb from the orgasm. My mind is a tangle of terror and grief and pain. I don't know what I want to say. I just know that watching him leave feels like losing him all over again. That has to mean something, right?

"I love you forever," he whispers, slipping out of my office before I can figure it out.

I drop into my chair, sobbing.

"I have something for you, lovebug," I murmur, kneeling beside Brinley's bed once she's tucked in for the night. We went for ice cream after school. I intended to give her the guitar pick then but couldn't bring myself to do it with a parlor full of people around us.

It feels more fitting to do it here, where we're alone, and she can process her emotions in private.

"Oh, I like presents!" she says, kicking her feet.

I smile, brushing her hair back from her face. "This is a special present."

"Really? How come?"

"Well, do you remember what I told you about your daddy?"

"He got lost before I was born," she whispers, a shadow passing over her face. "Everybody says he died when he got lost." Her gaze flits over my face. "But I don't believe that, mommy."

"Me neither," I whisper, my throat so tight it hurts to breathe. I always wondered if it was wrong to give her false hope, but how could I kill hers when I still clung to my own?

Now, I'm glad I left her that little kernel of hope because I have to tell her that he's alive. That he's here, and that he wants to meet her. I don't even know where to begin. So I'm starting here, with this.

"Well, I bought this for your daddy the day we got married," I say, slipping the guitar pick out of my pocket and holding it out to her.

"Ohh," she whispers, plucking it from my palm with wide eyes. She holds it up in front of her face, scrutinizing it. "What is it?"

"It's a guitar pick, baby girl. He used it when he played his guitar for me."

"He used this?" she whispers, awe in her voice.

"Yeah, he did." I swallow the lump in my throat, reaching out to trace the dents and scratches and chips along the surface. "All of these mean he used it a lot. It was special to him, lovebug. Now, it's yours."

She stares at it for a long time, not saying anything. And then she blinks, turning to look at me with a thousand questions swirling through her expressive eyes. "How come you're giving it to me now, Mommy? Where did you find it?"

"I…" Panic surges through my veins, closing up my throat. For a long moment, I don't know what to say or how to say it. She's only five. How do I explain this to her so she'll understand when I don't even understand?

"It's why you're sad, huh?" she whispers, far too perceptive. That's always been my problem with her. She sees far more than she should for a girl her age. No matter how hard I try, I can't hide anything from her. She's just like Grayson in that way.

"Yeah, baby girl," I whisper, nodding as I crawl into her bed with her. I curl my body around hers, holding her close. "I have something to tell you. It might seem scary."

"I'm a big girl now. I'll be okay, Mommy." She pats my hand, trying to reassure me, which has a sob catching in my throat. God, she's so damn brave. I hope she never loses that.

"Your daddy did get lost, Brinley." I stroke my fingers through her hair. "He's been lost for a long time. But he's back now. He gave me that guitar pick to give you."

"My…my daddy is back?" The hope in her voice kills me.

"Yeah, baby," I whisper, tears dripping down my cheeks. "He's back."

"Where is he, Mommy? Why isn't he here?" She cranes her neck around to look at me. "Why isn't he home with us?"