I’m not lying. I really do want her to be happy. And as much as I’m chanting to myself that it’s all part of The Ultimate Strategy,that feels like a lie.
Willow sighs and pokes at a chocolate chip with her spoon. “I feel bad.”
Shit. “Why?”
“Because…” She takes what feels like an eternity to finally continue. When she does, she blinks up at me with those long, darklashes and I’m starting to understand why my best, most battle-scarred soldiers all turn to mush around her. “I don’t miss him.And… and he’s not… He’s not really my dad.”
I pause. That’s not at all what I expected to hear. “What do you mean?”
The kid’s only five, but she starts talking to me more like she’s fifty. “I know he’s my father, because Mommy told me so. But Idon’t think he acts like my daddy. Not like daddies are su
