This separationanxiety was his problem, not hers. She was doing what every otheryoung woman her age did—except maybe the marriage part. She wasforging her own path, just like he’d taught her.
But he missedher already. He’d miss her bubbly laughter and her wicked sense ofhumour.
Life would beso quiet without her.
Sarah wasspreading her wings and it was time for him to do the same.Finally, he’d get the chance to live the life he’d missed out on bybecoming a parent so young.
Lachlan grabbedthe key card from its slot by the door and headed downstairs. Thebest way to overcome the doldrums was to surround himself withpeople. He’d have a drink at the bar and find someone to talkto.
Easy.
As usual, thefoyer area was a throng of activity as Emma returned to thehotel.
After cryingherself to sleep last night, she’d woken up at a reasonable hourthis morning and decided to push yesterday’s events out of herhead, get outside into the fresh air and do some sightseeing.
The city wasquite amazing, really, and she’d loved discovering things on theStrip that she’d seen in movies. Exploring the Caesar’s Palacegardens, she’d been delighted to a find a replica of the TreviFountain. When no one was looking, she’d even tossed in a coin.She’d been star-struck by Planet Hollywood and the MGM casino, andshe spent at least fifteen minutes admiring the sleek pyramid andsphynx two blocks away at the Luxor.
Traffic noisewas steady as cars lined the strip, bumper to bumper, even in themiddle of the day. She hadn’t realised that so much of thefootpath—oops, sidewalk—was raised above street level,making it safe for pedestrians. She rode the escalator up to theair-bridge and meandered along, keeping out of the way of thethrong of holiday makers, listening to the occasional busker, anddropping some coins into the containers for the homeless.
Money wasdifferent here, too. At home, she could glance in her wallet andsee immediately what notes she was carrying, just by the colour.Here though, she understood why they called it the greenback. Shehad to pull out each note in order to read its denomination.
After munchingon a hot, salted pretzel, she returned to the hotel with sore feetbut wired from the sights and sounds of this incredible city.
Reaching thehotel’s foyer, her eyes darted to that spectacular artwork, and sheskirted a large family group with boisterous children. The parentschatted together, not minding that their kids were racing aroundand knocking over suitcases.
“Excuse me,Emma?”
She turned insurprise at her father’s voice. The one she’d been longing to hearagain after all this time. No. She was imagining it, surely. Itcouldn’t be Dad. Mishka had made it clear enough yesterday thatthey wanted nothing to do with her.
Emma paused,glancing back over her shoulder. “Dad?”
He stood to theside of the reception desk and waited as a group of people draggedsuitcases across the sparkling floor before taking a step towardher. “Emma?”
He was just asshe remembered, yet a total stranger.
“Could wetalk?”
Her browslifted in confusion. Neither of them had wanted to talk yesterday.She nodded. “Would you like to talk in the bar or come up to myroom?”
“Perhapssomewhere private would be better.”
They walked insilence as Emma guided him along the carpeted hallway, past thewindows overlooking the pool where she’d been so humiliated by hisrejection yesterday. She refused to let her gaze stray to thewindows. Was he here to cause her further pain? Or apologise?
As they reachedthe foyer for the elevators, Emma showed her key card to thesecurity guard and they stepped into the lift.
An awkwardsilence rested between them and she had no idea how to ease it.
In her room,Dad stood near the windows, hands shoved into his trouser pockets,as he took in the elegance of the room. She’d left the curtainspartially open, and the afternoon sun streamed in, show casing aburnt sienna desert in the distance.
Emma claspedher hands and waited.
Dad took amoment to study the view before turning to face her. “I apologisefor yesterday.”
The tone of hisvoice was exactly as she remembered but now held a differentaccent. New York? Brooklyn? She wasn’t sure. “I don’t understandwhat happened.”
“Mish has had astalker for a couple of years now. Seeing you pop up from behindthe tree…it brought back a lot of frightening memories.”
“But Iexplained who I was.”
He nodded andhis gaze fell to the bedspread between them. He ran a hand throughhis hair before returning it to his pocket. “I guess I have a lotof explaining to do.”
Emma gesturedto the chair by the bed near the window and perched on the end ofthe bed.
“How is yourmother?”
Emma opened hermouth to answer then closed it again. What could she say? ThatMum’s dying wish had been to see her oldest daughter again? That ithad almost destroyed Emma when she couldn’t grant that final wish?“Uh, she passed.”
Dad’s headjerked back, and the colour drained from his face. “What?”
“She got sickabout five years ago. She fought valiantly but couldn’t beat it inthe end. She died September, two years ago.”
“I—I didn’tknow.”
His voice helda slight accusatory tone that she didn’t care for and she foldedher arms. “Well, I’m sorry. Where was I supposed to send thenotice? You could have picked up the phone at any time in the pasttwenty years, you know.”
“Y-yes. I-Irealise that. I’m sorry.” Dad sank onto the chair. His forearmsfound his knees and he leaned forward and stared at the carpet.“It’s not your fault.”
“I know that!”Emma shot to her feet as a surge of anger swept through her. “Youknow, I get that you wanted Michelle to have a good life and besuccessful. I just don’t understand why that had to be at theexpense of me and Mum. We loved her too, you know.”
“I’m sorry,Emma. Really, I never meant to hurt you. I just reacted. I washurting and I just didn’t think about what it would do to you.”
“Hurting? Whywere you hurting?”
“I’m guessingyour mother never told you.”
“Told me what?”Now her
