Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“Have time.” There’s no stopping my voice from softening. “Only two months.”
“God, I can’t even believe it’s been two months already.”
Hearing another heavy sigh from her prompts me to insist on taking over. “I will finish snack with moya malen'kaya balerina and put back to bed.” It’s impossible to not see the excitement briefly revealed in my daughter’s eyes. “You get rest. Morning here too soon.”
“Facts.” Cora’s light chuckles are followed by a tiny finger wave to Kat. “Sleep well, princess.”
“Night, night, Cora!”
The two of us watch her exit the prestigious space we let her help renovate just shortly after she took over Cook’s position. Remy wanted a place that reminded her less of her father’s death and that didn’t reek of betrayal. Participating in the updates was one of the first household activities I truly felt I had a voice in.
I was grateful to be heard.
My opinion received.
Her promise of trying to share the power presented front and center.
I could do without all the white and crystal pieces, but I do love the marble. How there are fresh baskets of produce from local markets like my mother used to have in our home growing up. The openness of the island allows for more relaxed meals with my family such as a big fresh pastry breakfast before school or grilled cheese lunch on a rainy day.
It’s taken years but every inch of the estate has come to feel like ours versus just hers.
I love it.
And whether or not my wife will ever express it, I know she loves it, too.
The instant I’m certain we’re completely alone, I turn my attention back to my daughter that’s helping herself to handfuls of dry cereal. Rather than immediately begin my line of questions regarding sleep, I warmly ask, “Maito?”
Her answer is muffled due to the mushed contents of her mouth, “Yes, please.”
Reaching over to retrieve the milk from the other side of her occurs at the same time I casually investigate, “Why not sleep?”
She simply shrugs.
Watches me pour.
Waits until the liquid is so high that it causes pieces to overflow onto the counter for the taking.
“What say about lying, Katarina?” I lovingly reprimand while watching her small fingers collect the lost bits.
“Don’t.”
“Da.”
She eagerly shoves the round objects against her waiting tongue.
“Why not sleep?”
Her words are granted freedom just above a whisper. “Ya skuchayu po mame.”
There’s no stopping my shoulders from plummeting to the floor or preventing my heart from darting into my throat over the proclamation.
She misses her mother.
Of course, she misses her mother.
What little girl doesn’t?
What little girl doesn’t want the woman she loves and adores and tries to be just like not to tuck her in at night?
Or read her bedtime stories?
Or check for monsters under the bed?
Although…Remy always reminds our daughter that she is the monster most people fear, a concept Katarina is much too young to truly understand despite her mother’s insistence we teach it to her now.
“It’s been two days, Papa.” Kat picks up the spoon to scoop up her snack. “How many more?”
“Home tomorrow.”
She chomps the crunchy contents in excitement. “Morning?!”
“Bedtime.”
Kat’s bottom lip pokes out slightly further than her top.
“I feel same.” I gently press a kiss on the top of her wild, wavy hair. “Sleep with Papa?” Leaning back allows us the chance to lock eyes. “Go to school late?”
She nods yet attempts to bargain before her next bite. “Maybe no school?”
“Net.” The firm stare she’s given has her offering up a spoonful as part of her negotiation technique. In spite of accepting the chocolatey present, I further deny the request. “You have spell test. Cannot miss.” Her mouth twitches open causing me to quickly reiterate my stance. “Will not miss, Katarina.”
Her sneer is identical to Remy’s, a fact that severely deepens my own ache from missing her.
I – like our daughter – do not enjoy the nights when she’s not next to me.
Within reach.
Within…protecting.
Masking my own growing sadness is swiftly done for my daughter’s sake. “Want to watch The Loud House ‘til sleepy?”
“Da!” She giggles, joy returning to bright eye gaze I adore. “I love The Loud House!” Kat shovels more food into her mouth and begins to hum the theme song. “Laula kanssani isä!”
Her command in Finnish for me to sing along is enthusiastically met.
And it always will be.
Regardless of the gruesome things I must do as Mr. Kessler, I refuse to let it ruin the other sides of myself.
Being the best husband and father possible will always matter more to me than simply being someone highly respected in business.
Remy can run everything in that avenue on her own.
She’s proven that.
Tenfold.
I am appreciated in that world but not needed.
I’m needed as a husband.
I’m needed as a father.
And those are needs I consider myself blessed to fulfill.
CHAPTER 3
Remy
Georgia: Spelunking like Scrooge McDuck.
I’m not surprised.
Special Agent Nathan Huckabee has made it irritatingly obvious that he is determined to find something to confront me about.