The After of Us (Judge Me Not #4)(47)

And then there’s Emma, whom I know Lily loves dearly.

Shit. Emma. I’m supposed to meet her for breakfast today. Fuck. I need to cancel that shit. I can’t think clearly when I’m around her. My feelings for her cloud my judgment. But since I do love Emma, maybe I could talk her into moving to New York…eventually.

For now, I just need to focus on what’s best for me and Lil.

Truthfully, there aren’t enough freelance gigs coming in to make creating advertising campaigns my career. And my work with Chase will surely slow by winter. I could always fall back on my trust fund, but, like I’ve always maintained, I really want to make it on my own. My ultimate goal has always been to show all the doubters that I’m no longer a f*ck-up.

There’s always the comic book and the graphic novel idea.

Yeah, right. Like anyone would even be interested. It’s high time I shelve that old dream.

Lily tugs at the arm of my long-sleeved tee. “Daddy, are you listening?”

She’s been chattering, and I have missed most of what she’s been saying, but I pretend I’ve heard every peep. “Yes, sweetie, I’m listening.”

Her little face scrunches up in a scowl. She knows I’m full of it, plus she suspects something is wrong.

Crossing her arms defiantly, she says, “I want to know why you wake me up.”

Sighing, I say, “I need to ask you something, okay? It’s something about our future.”

Apprehension clouds her face. She knows this drill.

Lily has been bounced around enough times that I’m not the tiniest bit surprised when she says in a tiny, defeated voice, “I have to leave, don’t I?”

I wrap my arms around her. “No, sweetheart, no, you don’t have to leave. At least, not all alone. I was thinking maybe we’d leave together.”

My proposing I accompany her doesn’t placate Lil one bit. She pulls away and eyes me like I’m about to toss her world into turmoil—which, in a way, I guess I am. Still, I insist, “It won’t be that bad, Lily.”

I’m trying to sound reassuring, but she’s not buying it. “I like it here, Daddy,” she says. “I don’t want to go away.”

“I know. But we can come back and visit, okay?”

Her eyes start to water. “I don’t want to go. You go. Let me stay with Auntie Kay and Uncle Chase. Or I go live with Mommy Emma. I love her so much, Daddy.”

I want to say I love Emma too, but I’m currently too stunned that Lily just called her “Mommy Emma.” Usually it’s Miss Emma, never Mommy Emma.

Wow. This has to stop.

Why? I don’t know. But then again, maybe it’s because Lily’s words make me realize how much Emma has become a part of our lives. She is like a mom to Lily. And what a dick I’ll be if I accept this New York job offer and leave this good life in the dust, this new life I’ve been building with Emma.

In a sharp tone, one brought on more by my own frustration and guilt, I snap, “Emma is not your mommy, Lily.”

Bad move. All that does is make my daughter burst out in tears.

“I don’t have any mommy,” she cries. “We’re leaving Mommy Emma, and my real mommy left me. My real mommy hates me. And Mommy Emma’s gonna hate me, too.”

“That’s not true, Lily. Emma loves you, and your real mommy cares for you too, in her own weird way.”

“No! My mommy hates me,” Lily screeches.

I try to comfort my daughter, but she pushes me away. “And I hate you!” she yells.

“Lily, don’t say that.”

“I do, Daddy. I hate you. You make us go away, and I hate you, I hate you!”

I let her yell and scream at me. I deserve it.

Lily calms after a while, but she still won’t let me comfort her. Defeated, I head to the kitchen so I can make breakfast since I’m canceling with Emma.

Speaking of which… I grab my cell.

I try to keep the ensuing call short, but Emma suspects something. She asks me as much as I am about to hit End.

“What’s really going on here, Will?”

“Nothing,” I say.

“Hey, it’s me you’re talking to. You can share stuff with me. You know this, right?”

I sigh and rake my fingers through my hair. She’s right, but I can’t share this with her. Not now, not after breaking the news to Lily and with how poorly she took it.

Nevertheless, I say, “I know, Emma.”

Just then, Lily starts bawling, really loudly, and I say in a hurry, “I have to go.”

I end the call, go to Lily. She pushes me away, again.

“Fine,” I say. “I was about to make us some breakfast, anyway. Maybe after you eat you’ll feel better.”

She ignores me.

Fifteen minutes later, I bring in Lily’s breakfast on a small tray. “How ‘bout breakfast in bed for my little princess?”

She flops on her stomach and says, “No,” as she buries her face in the pillows.

“Lily.” I walk over to her bed and set the tray down gently on the edge. “Come on,” I prompt in a sing-song voice. “I made your favorite, a sunny-side-up egg.”

No response.

I shift my weight and fold my arms across my chest. “There’s orange juice, too,” I add. “Yum, yum.”