She stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Elliot, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” I said firmly.
“He’s my best friend. And he’s been more of a father to Mia than I’ve been lately. I owe him this.”
Relief washed over me, but it was tinged with guilt.
I had almost destroyed the life of the man who had saved my daughter.
When Joshua woke, I was the first to apologize, the words tumbling out in a messy, tear-filled rush.
He smiled weakly and muttered, “Took you long enough.”
And Mia — my stubborn, strong-willed daughter — took my hand in hers.
“I’ll come home,” she said softly. “But only if you promise to try. To trust me.
To… let me grow up.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “I promise.”
