Instant Gratification (Wilder #2)(70)

“It’s not about me.”

“I’m asking what you think.”

He’d never asked her what she thought before she’d come here to Wishful, but he was asking now.

As she knew all too well, now was all that mattered. “I think it’s a good offer,” she said carefully. “And the easiest route to take.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Easier because you won’t feel responsible for me or this place, if something else happens?”

He meant if he had another heart attack. The thought made her gut clench and put a lump in her throat. That they’d had a tough time in the past finding a relationship didn’t matter. Not when he was all she had left. “It’s not about that. It’s not about me at all. It’s about you and your health and being happy.”

“I’ve always been happy here, always.”

The lump in her throat expanded. He’d paid for her college. He’d tried to see her. Wanted her. She couldn’t keep quiet. “Dad.” She shook her head. “You paid for my college education. You gave up your savings, your retirement fund. You were there for me, and I never knew it. I feel so selfish, so regretful that I—” To her surprise and horror, her voice cracked. “That we—”

“Hey. Hey…” Reaching out, he put his hand over hers. “Listen to me. A dad visits his kid. A dad gives his kid a leg up when they want to go to college. Both of those things were my job, and it’s the least of what I should have done. In any case, it’s all in the past.”

“Yes, but Mom—”

“Did the best she could.”

She stared at him, grateful beyond words that he wasn’t asking her to make a choice between him and her mom’s memory. More than that, he didn’t want her to. She’d grossly underestimated him, and that was her own shame, but like him, she wouldn’t look back.

But she could fix the now.

And the future. “I’m actually going to miss this place.”

He looked up, startled. Hopeful. “You are?”

“Dad,” she started regretfully, and he squeezed her hand.

“It’s okay, Emma. It’s all going to be okay.”

But it wasn’t. She was leaving, and she didn’t know what that would mean for them. Would they go back to being polite strangers?

Would he really be okay without his clinic?

Suddenly she didn’t think so, and she started to say something but he rose to his feet, a little slow to straighten. He creaked and groaned, then shot her another little smile. “Getting old isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I don’t recommend it.”

He was giving her a moment, letting her skip over the big elephant in the room. But if she’d learned one thing from being here, from Stone actually, it was that sweeping emotions under the carpet never worked. We both know I wasn’t exactly in my element here, that I never planned to stay.”

“Yes.” A wry smile twisted his lips. “You’ve mentioned a time or two.”

“Or a thousand.” She sighed at herself. “I planned to hate every single day and be resentful while I was at it.”

“Which seemed to work for you for a while.”

She had to smile. “I know. I really did pull that off for a good long time, didn’t I?”

He cocked his head. “Is that a past tense I hear?”

She paused. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t fit…”

“You look like you fit to me.” He looked her over. “You’re not nearly as pale as when you first got here, which means you’re not all work and no play anymore. You sure as hell aren’t as edgy and in such a hurry as you were, which means you’ve learned to let your hair down.” He smiled. “I’d say you fit in just fine.”

“Let’s just say that this place and I have come to an agreement. Of sorts.”

“Which is?”

“I stopped taking myself so seriously, and it stopped mocking me. People don’t care where I got my degree, or that I run an ER, or even what my specialty is. They care that I open the Urgent Care at eight sharp, that I’m flexible when it comes to payment…” She shot him a long look that had him choking out a laugh and scratching his head with a wry/guilty expression. “But mostly, they care about you, Dad. And they care about each other.” She shook her head. “It’s truly the oddest place I’ve ever been, and honestly?”

He grinned. “You will. You’ll miss it.”

“Yeah. And you. I’ll miss you.”

“Same goes, Emma. Same goes.” He cleared his rough throat. “I have something for you.” He pulled a small gift bag from a pocket of his jacket.

“What’s that for?”

“A good-bye present.”

Her gaze flew to his. “I don’t need a going away present.”

“It’s not a going-away present. It’s a good-bye present. There’s a difference.”

There sure as hell was. “I’m not pulling a mom here, Dad. I’ll come back. I already figured out the weekends over the next six months where I could grab three days in a row. There’s at least one every other month.”

“Look at you, with all your careful plans.” He smiled. “I’ve made my own careful plans.”