Take This Regret Read online

  Work passed in a fog. Faces were a blur, and I hoped that the daze that surrounded me wasn’t affecting my job. It turned out I had hoped in vain. Scott, one of our two loan officers, tugged on my forearm and pul ed me aside, his expression concerned. He was a thirty-two-year-old divorcee, and second to Christian, probably the most attractive man I’d ever seen. He didn’t drop his hold as his green eyes searched my face, his thumb running circles over my skin.

  “What’s going on with you this week, Liz? I’m worried about you.” His voice was soft, tender, dripping with the affection I’d told him time and time again I could never return. He’d settled on being my friend, though I was certain he believed one day I would have a change of heart.

  Pushing my bangs from my face, I sighed heavily. “I’m fine,” I whispered under my breath. “It’s just been a bad week.” What an understatement. It had been one of the worst weeks of my life.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head, hoping my smal , forced smile would project my appreciation. “No, I’m fine. Thanks. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

  He nodded, squeezing my arm. “Okay, Liz, but I’m here for you.” He dipped his head, meeting my eyes. “You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Try to focus out there, okay,” he added reluctantly, plainly uncomfortable bringing up my deficiencies over the past week. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed you’ve been off your game this week.” He gestured with his head in the direction of our branch manager, Anita, who was watching us from her desk across the lobby.

  I cringed, feeling guilty and embarrassed for al owing my personal issues to affect my job.

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get back to work,” he said as his tone turned teasing. I grinned at him, shaking my head as I walked back to my window.

  I took a deep breath as I got back to my drawer, giving myself a mental pep talk about leaving my personal issues at home. Even if the smile I flashed at my next customer was fake, it was at least a smile and not a grimace. She completed her transaction and wished me a good evening, and I bid her the same.

  I cal ed next as I glanced at my computer screen, clearing it to prepare for the next customer.

  “Elizabeth, I need to talk to you.” His low voice hit me just as hard as if he’d slammed me against a wal .

  Christian stood at my window, his hands gripping the counter as he leaned in toward me. I tried to look away from his penetrating eyes, to escape the intensity behind them.

  The passion swimming in them was probably the single most frightening thing I’d ever seen. It was then I realized he wouldn’t give up. Overwhelmed, I burst into tears.

  “Please, leave us alone,” I implored him to just once not think of himself.

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I can’t. I have to see Lizzie.” His face lit as he said her name. It made me sick.

  I shook my head. “No.” I wasn’t giving in. I would not al ow him to hurt my baby.

  “Please, don’t do this, Elizabeth. You can’t keep her from me,” he stated as if he had a claim on her. As far as I was concerned, he had given up that claim the moment he had sent me out his door. I was going to tel him that very thing, until the words I love her passed through his lips.

  He loved her? I could feel my face redden as anger surged through my veins. “You what?” I seethed, unable to contain the fury boiling over. “You don’t love her.” Five years with no contact, and now he loves her? I could feel myself begin to shake, and this time I wouldn’t hold back.

  He needed to know just how misguided he was. “You’re too He needed to know just how misguided he was. “You’re too selfish to know what love is, and I wil not stand by and watch you break Lizzie’s heart when you’ve had your fil of her, just the way you did me.”

  Christian paled at my words, almost as if he hadn’t known he’d broken my heart, and if he hadn’t realized that, then he was truly a fool. I had loved him—so much. I’d told him every day, and I’d meant it. He’d promised to marry to me, to spend his life with me, to love me forever.

  Apparently, I’d been the fool to believe it.

  “Elizabeth.” His voice was raspy as he pleaded, “I’m not that person anymore. Please, give me a chance. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

  I wanted to laugh in his face. “I haven’t forgotten the last time you made that promise, Christian.” How many times he’d told me he’d never leave.

  I took advantage of his pause, his loss for words, and hardened my voice. “Stay out of our lives, Christian.” He needed to know that no amount of repentance would earn him forgiveness. What he’d done was unforgivable.

  Christian gripped his head in his hands, and when he looked back up at me, his face was contorted in an anguish I didn’t understand. “Please, Elizabeth . . . don’t . . . Don’t make me take this to court.”

  My knees went weak as he vocalized my biggest fear, and I was certain my heart would falter in my chest. He was real y going to try to take away my child. I took a shaky step back as the room began to spin. There were so many emotions swirling, consuming, but one thought overrode them al . I opened my mouth, and even though the sound barely came, I was certain he heard.

  “I hate you.”

  I covered my mouth as I rushed to the break room, hoping to hide myself away before I completely broke down. The moment I was safely behind the door, I lost it.

  Loud cries echoed through the smal room, my body convulsing, gripped with fear. I tried to steady myself against the table but fel to my knees, my legs unable to support the weight of what had just occurred. I felt as if I were drowning. Sounds came in muddled waves against my ears, and I sensed movement and knew I was not alone, though I was unable to focus on anything but the feeling of dread that coursed through my body. The pressure in my chest left me gasping, searching for air I couldn’t seem to find.

  Somebody shook me, an alarmed voice repeating,

  “Elizabeth.”

  I struggled to see the face, to hear the voice, and final y opened my eyes to find Scott kneeling in front of me. The look of concern he’d had earlier had been replaced by one of panic. His hands trembled as he held my shoulders.

  A soft hand rubbed my back as Selina’s soothing voice coaxed, “Calm down, Liz . . . Take a deep breath . . .

  Just relax.” With her words, my anxiety attack gave way to a flood of tears, and I col apsed into Scott’s arms, sobbing into his shirt.

  Selina stood and returned seconds later with a cup of water and a cool, wet cloth, pressing one against my forehead and the other to my lips. Scott helped me into a forehead and the other to my lips. Scott helped me into a chair, and I accepted the water, al owing the coolness to soothe my burning throat, though it could do nothing to soothe my soul.

  Al I could think was that I had failed my daughter.

  Selina drove me home, and Scott fol owed in my car. It was apparent I was in no condition to finish out my day of work. Selina offered to come inside, but I refused. I just needed to be alone.

  I plodded upstairs, each step sucking me deeper into despair. By the time I entered my bedroom, I was back on my knees, weeping into the carpet.

  I had no idea how much time had passed when I heard the front doorbel ring, then again. Final y, the sound of a key in the lock and the squeaking of the front door came.

  “Elizabeth?” Natalie’s voice carried from downstairs.

  This was fol owed by Lizzie’s joyful voice singing,

  “Where are you, Mommy?”

  I cried harder into the floor, thinking of how one day soon Christian would steal that joy away. Footsteps pounded against the stairs, and I could feel Natalie pause in the doorway to my room. Lizzie’s footsteps trailed close behind.

  Raising my head, I met Natalie’s face as she took in the scene, her eyes wide as she apprised the crying mess I was.

  “Please, don’t let Lizzie see me this way,”
I managed to force out, my voice hoarse.

  She hesitated, clearly wishing to come to my side before nodding and stepping away. She stopped Lizzie just

  before nodding and stepping away. She stopped Lizzie just before she got to the door.

  “Lizzie, honey, your mommy isn’t feeling very wel right now. Why don’t we go downstairs and start dinner.”

  “Is she sick?” Lizzie’s voice dropped to a whisper. I could sense her trying to peer into the room, and Natalie moved to block her view.

  “Yes, sweetheart, but she’l be okay, don’t worry.” The bedroom door closed between us, and I was left with only the echo of their retreat downstairs and the anxiety that had me nailed to the floor. I wanted to get up, dry my eyes, and go to my daughter, but I knew I would be unable to stand in front of Lizzie and pretend that the life we knew had not just come to an end.

  It seemed like hours had passed as I swam in my misery, but the sky had barely dimmed with evening’s approach when my door opened and I was wrapped in the comfort of Matthew’s arms. He sat on the floor against my bed and pul ed me onto his lap. He rocked me and shushed me as if I were his child, his hand running through my hair as he placed soft kisses against my head.

  I leaned heavily against the table, staring into the lukewarm cup of coffee that sat untouched in front of me. Matthew and Natalie walked quietly into the kitchen.

  “She’s asleep,” Matthew said just above a whisper. He released a heavy breath and ran his hand over his face.

  Glancing up, I mouthed a watery, “Thank-you.” Natalie and Matthew took a seat at the table, eyeing me cautiously. “Are you doing okay, Liz?” Matthew asked sympathetical y, though with an undercurrent of fury I knew he was trying to hide from me.

  Sniffling, I shook my head. I wasn’t doing okay. Never had I been more afraid. I’d worked so hard to build this life, to provide a safe, stable home for Lizzie, one fil ed with encouragement and love. I’d established a family that she could count on; people who would never choose to leave her but who would always choose to stay. And in one moment, Christian threatened to take it al away.

  “What am I going to do?” I choked out, more tears pouring down my face as I voiced my fears. “I can’t let him hurt her.” I knew I had to protect my daughter from him. I just didn’t know how.

  “Maybe he won’t, Liz. Maybe he real y just wants to see her,” Natalie offered, her tone hopeful, her words causing a loud cry to erupt from me.

  Matthew widened his eyes at Natalie, and he tilted his head to the side as if to say you’re not helping things.

  Natalie shrugged defensively. “What? I’m just saying what I saw. Now that I know who he is, I can understand the look on his face. It was as if he wanted to know her.” Her remark only made me cry harder.

  Natalie grabbed my hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t mean to upset you, but what if he did change?” I accepted the tissue Matthew offered and blew my nose while shaking my head. I wasn’t upset with Natalie.

  She didn’t know Christian as I did. I was sure Natalie was right on some account, that Christian did want to know Lizzie now. It was the day he became bored with her that concerned me.

  Matthew reached across the table and covered Natalie’s and my hands in his. “Elizabeth, I think you should let him see her.” His expression was compassionate, and although I knew he would never mean me any harm, it felt like he’d slapped me across the face.

  “What?” I jerked my hand away and shook my head, unable to comprehend how Matthew could even suggest something so unreasonable. I would do whatever it took to keep my daughter away from Christian.

  Matthew reached for me again, appearing tortured.

  “Look at me, Elizabeth.” His expression was intense, sincere as he looked across the table at me. He was hurting, every bit as much as I was. “I love Lizzie like my own, and I would do anything to protect her. You know that, right?”

  Of course I did. I nodded.

  “Then this may be the best way. Think about it. You don’t want that asshole to take you to court.”

  “I can’t believe they’d give him custody,” I said, wishing to sound confident. Instead, it came out more a question.

  After what he’d done, how could they possibly grant him parental rights? Could they? More tears came.

  “Liz . . .” Matthew paused, before looking at me with something akin to pity. “He’s an attorney, and you’re a bank tel er . . . ,” he trailed off. I knew he wasn’t criticizing me. He was stating a simple fact; Christian had resources, access to the best family attorneys, and knew every aspect of the law. I had a couple hundred dol ars and some change in my checking account.

  “How can I stand by and watch my daughter get her heart broken by her own father when he leaves? I just . . .

  can’t let that happen.” The thought was just too much. If I let Christian have his way, I’d be throwing Lizzie to the wolves.

  Every part of me screamed to protect my daughter from the harm Christian would surely bring, though realistical y I knew what Matthew was saying was right. It would be much worse if Christian had legal rights. I couldn’t imagine him having any legal say in the upbringing of my daughter.

  A soothing hand rested lightly on my back as Natalie said in a soft voice, “It’s going to be okay, Liz. We’l get through this.”

  Matthew leaned farther across the table and smoothed the matted hair from my face. “She’s right, honey. We’l get through this, I promise. Whatever happens, we’l be here for Lizzie. She’l never be alone,” Matthew promised.

  Through bleary eyes, I looked up at Matthew and Natalie. I took a tissue from the box and dabbed at my eyes, nodding as I sat up and took a deep breath to try to ease the dread I felt. I took some comfort in knowing that in the end, Matthew and Natalie would be there just as they always had. What I found no comfort in was the knowledge of what I needed to do next.

  I rose, and Matthew and Natalie fol owed. Sadness hung in the air with the decision that we had made. I hugged them, first Natalie and then Matthew. Pul ing away, I held onto Matthew’s hand and smiled somberly.

  “Thank-you.”

  He returned the embrace, pursing his lips as he nodded once, his expression stressing his reassurance.

  “We’re here, Liz . . . always.”

  “You guys better go home. It’s getting late.” It was wel after midnight, and it had been a long, emotional y exhausting day.

  “You sure?” Matthew asked. “We can stay if you need us.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’l be fine.”

  Matthew hesitated, glancing at Natalie, before he agreed. “Okay. We’l see you tomorrow.”

  Fol owing them to the entryway, I hugged them each again, wishing them goodnight. Slowly, I shut the door behind them and locked it. The moment it was closed, I was gripped with emotions I wasn’t sure I had enough strength to deal with. It had al been too much. I turned and slid down the backside of the door. Grasping my head in my hands, I buried it between my knees, crying out into the stil ness.

  The pain coming from my mouth echoed through the house.

  How could I just hand my daughter over to him? I knew exactly what he’d do, what game he played. He would make Lizzie fal in love with him, just as he had done to me, make her believe she meant everything to him. Then he would leave my child and take her heart with him. How could any mother make a decision to put her child in harm’s way? But I’d been left without a choice.

  I pushed to my feet and marched upstairs. Once in my room, I dug through my purse on the floor and retrieved my cel phone. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I dialed the same number that had caused me a near anxiety attack every time it had rang over the last week. It was late, and I prayed it would go straight to voice mail.

  I lost my voice and nearly my nerve when Christian answered. Warmth spread through my body with the sound of his voice. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook the foolish reaction away. I hated him, I reminded myself, and he was dangerous.
No matter what feelings I stil harbored for him, I could not forget those two crucial truths.

  Lying on my bed, I stared at the ceiling, clueless as to where to go from here. I knew I should give up, stand down, but found myself unable to entertain the thought of not seeing Lizzie again.

  I rol ed over and buried my face in my pil ow, hoping to find answers there. None came. I lifted my head to my nightstand, looking at the clock that read twelve thirty-seven. It was late in San Diego and much later in Virginia, but there was no one else who would understand. Making a quick decision, I sat up on the side of my bed, picked up my phone, and dialed. She answered on the first ring.

  “Christian, what’s wrong?” Mom’s voice was raspy from sleep, but her mind was clear enough to know I would not have cal ed her in the middle of the night if something weren’t wrong.

  I uttered the first words that came to mind. “Mom, they’re here.” Silence hovered thick in the air. The miles between us were fil ed with an unspoken language, soundless joy and overwhelming regret.

  Final y, Mom spoke when the shock wore off, and I could tel she was crying. “Tel me about my grandchild.” I cleared my throat of some of the emotion, just enough to speak. “Her name is Lizzie.”

  Claire whimpered, causing my chest to constrict further. The gathering of moisture in my eyes brought me as close to crying as I had since I’d been a smal boy. My voice was ful of adoration as I described to my mother our first encounter, how I’d known I was connected to the child the first time I saw her, how I’d fal en in love with her in the same moment.

  My tone became alarmed as I told her of going to their house and about Elizabeth sending me away. My distress increased to near hysteria when I got to the part about going to her work.

  “Mom, Elizabeth hates me.” Her assertion that afternoon had devastated me. To have injured this beautiful creature to the extent that she hated me—I couldn’t bear to think of the pain I’d caused her.

  “She’s angry with you, Christian, and she has every right to be, but I can’t believe that she hates you.” I shook my head against the phone. Mom hadn’t seen Elizabeth’s face. I knew what she had said was true.