Natalie may have been young and naive, but it didn't minimize the love she felt for Matthew. And Matthew-he adored her.

The four of us had become a sort of pseudo-family, but a family nonetheless. The couple lived less than five minutes from Lizzie and me, partaking in the daily care of the little girl as if she were their own. I knew Matthew and Natalie loved the role they served in our lives, though I couldn't help but feel indebted to them.

Who wouldn't?

It was selflessness in its purest form.

Just before five thirty, I pul ed into the garage of my smal two-story house, the white paint fresh and lawn trimmed from the countless hours of effort Matthew had put into its care. The moment we'd pul ed up in front with the realtor, I'd known that this cozy house would become our home. I'd immediately fal en in love with the flowering myrtle trees flanking each side and the two citrus trees out back. I gathered my things, and just as I stepped from the car, Natalie pul ed up in her smal white sedan and parked on the street.

My face lit up in a smile. It was here I found my joy. It was a joy that erased every painful memory of the day.

Here I couldn't remember the ache in my heart or the sadness that washed over me in the quiet of my car. Here I was happy.

I smiled and waved as I walked down the driveway.

Before I could reach them, the back passenger door flew open, and Lizzie shot out, throwing her arms up in the air. The child's face glowed happiness as she ran barefoot up the drive, her blue eyes flashing excitement.

"Mommy!"

I scooped her up. "Hi, baby girl." I clung to her, kissing the soft apple of her cheek, finding relief in the weight of my daughter in my arms.

Being away from her for so long during the day was nearly unbearable.

Lizzie snuggled in closer, her tiny fingers gripping the back of my neck through my hair. Drawing her nearer, I breathed her in.

I was certain no one had ever loved a child as much as I loved mine.

I pul ed back to see my daughter's perfect face, my voice soft as I spoke. "How was your day, sweetheart?"

"Oh, Momma, I had so much fun." Lizzie leaned away, pul ing her arms from my neck so she could express her story with her hands. "It was B day at school today, and then we sang a bee song 'cause it starts with the letter B and . .

I grinned at my daughter, my face bursting with the force of my smile. The sound of her voice made my heart soar, my chest fil ed with affection as Lizzie relayed a play-by-play of her day. I was in awe of how smart my daughter was, how intuitive, how perceptive she was of the things around her.

"Then we colored pictures, and I made one for you and Auntie Natalie and Uncle Maffew," Lizzie prattled on with excitement and distinct preschooler pride.

"That sounds like so much fun, Lizzie. I can't wait to see the pictures you colored," I cooed at my child. "So, were you a good girl for Auntie Natalie after she picked you up today?"

As if I real y needed to ask-I couldn't remember a time when my daughter had misbehaved.

"Mommy"-Lizzie's voice turned very grown up, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing-"I'm always a good girl."

"Yes you are, aren't you?" I sang as I nuzzled my nose into Lizzie's neck, causing her to squeal with laughter.

"Stop, Mommy! No tickles!"

Laughing, I leaned over to place my daughter on the ground, but not before Lizzie looked up to me, her face in near wonder. "And I saw a nice man today, Momma." Confused, I looked to Natalie for clarification, wondering what on earth my daughter was talking about.

Natalie grimaced with Lizzie's words, but mouthed later, obviously wishing not to discuss it in front of her.

It left me feeling uneasy, but I shrugged it off, assuming it couldn't have been anything major since I hadn't received a cal from Natalie.

Natalie and I unloaded the groceries from the car with Lizzie in tow.

I fol owed them into the living room of my modest house, a feeling of satisfaction coming over me. I stil was unable to believe I final y had my own place. The comfortable brown suede couch sat in the middle of the room, facing the television, the beige carpet in between littered with toys and pil ows. This was by far my favorite room. It was a rare day Lizzie and I weren't on the floor, playing toys or sitting on the couch reading a book.

Lizzie skipped along in front of us on the pathway between the back of the couch and the stairs on the way to the kitchen, humming the song she'd learned earlier in the day.

As we piled grocery bags atop the faux-granite countertops, I couldn't help but notice the way my cousin's hands trembled, her jaw held rigid. It was completely out of character for someone so laid-back.

Digging blindly into a bag, I started putting away groceries while I observed Natalie, final y becoming too impatient to wait for her to offer an explanation.

"What's going on with you today?" I demanded, my tone low and concerned.

Natalie glanced over at Lizzie, who sat at the kitchen table coloring, before she looked back at me.

"There was just this guy who freaked me out at the grocery store." She tried to play it off with a shrug, but the grimace on her face revealed her alarm; her voice was little more than a whisper as she attempted to hide our conversation from Lizzie.

With my brow creased and head tilted to the side, I tried to read on her face. "What do you mean?"

"He just . . ."-Natalie squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as if it were painful for her to recal the event-". . . kept staring at Lizzie." She opened her eyes, meeting mine. "The most disturbing part of it was Lizzie seemed to be just as interested in him as he was with her .

. . it was just . . . so . . . weird." Natalie hesitated before she settled on the word as if she were unable to find another way to describe the interaction.

My daughter's words from earlier came to me, the ones about seeing a nice man. I was going to need to have another talk with her later about the dangers of talking to strangers. Right then, though, I was after details, unsure if this was real y something I needed to be concerned about.

While Natalie's intentions were always good, she had the tendency to exaggerate.

"What did he do that made you so uncomfortable?"

"Wel . . ." Natalie breathed heavily through her nose, "Wel . . ." Natalie breathed heavily through her nose, turned back to the groceries, and resumed the task as she spoke. "I was picking out apples, and when I turned around, they were just staring at each other."

That sounded weird just like Natalie had said. Chewing on my lip, I tried to keep the panic wel ing up in me at bay, focusing on listening to Natalie while I set two boxes of Lizzie's favorite cereal into the cupboard.

"Then it was like every aisle I went down, he was there, and I was sure he already had things from those aisles in his cart. It really felt like he was fol owing us. The scary thing was Lizzie kept asking me to slow down so she could talk to him. When I asked her if she knew him, she said she thought so; but when I asked from where, she said she didn't know."

My skin prickled with goose bumps as chil s ran down my spine. I looked over my shoulder, just needing to confirm that my daughter was there. Lizzie was stil coloring and quietly humming to herself-safe. I said a silent prayer of thanks, before turning back to the bags in front of me.

"What a creep," I muttered under my breath.

It was a comment Natalie must have heard, because she continued. "Oh, it gets worse. I was loading the groceries into the trunk of the car, and when I turned around, he was right there, just standing there and staring at her. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. I grabbed Lizzie, threw her in the car, and took off." She cringed, adding regretful y, "I lost one of Lizzie's favorite shoes, but I wasn't about to take the time to stop and get it." I shrugged. "Don't worry about it, we'l replace it," I said, just grateful my cousin had been so cautious with Lizzie. The whole thing had probably been harmless, but when it came to my daughter, safe was always better than sorry. I would much rather Natalie overreact than be complacent. It was one of the reasons I trusted her with Lizzie's care.

I went back to putting away groceries, glancing between what I was doing and Natalie. I could see she was stil shaken and questioning herself. "You did the right thing, Natalie. We'l just keep an eye out, and if we notice anything else strange, we'l report it, okay?" Hoping to calm her down, I reached out and hugged her.

Natalie nodded against my shoulder as her tension visibly dissipated. "Okay."

When she pul ed away, I squeezed her hand in a show of support before I turned and grabbed a couple of boxes from a bag. "So, can you describe him?"

A little more col ected, Natalie leaned her back against the counter. "Wel , yeah, I don't think I could forget him. He definitely wasn't someone who would typical y make me nervous. I mean, he was wearing a business suit . . . a nice business suit . . . like you could tel he had money." I frowned, rearranging the image I'd had in my head, because a man in a business suit definitely wasn't what I'd pictured.

"He was tal and pretty thin, but I don't know, muscular at the same time?" Natalie used her hands to demonstrate about how big she thought the man had been. "He was probably about your age, and real y, real y good looking." The more Natalie described him, the more I began to think she had exaggerated the whole thing. Her depiction sounded more like most women's vision of their dream guy than some creepy stalker.

"He had black hair . . . and his eyes . . . he had the most striking eyes; they were an intense blue." I gasped, dropping the boxes I was holding and clapped my hands over my mouth to absorb the cry that broke loose.

No! Oh God, please no.

Natalie jumped back, looking shocked by my sudden change in demeanor, her eyes fol owing mine that locked on Lizzie. The little girl looked up and smiled widely when she noticed the two of us staring at her, her sparkling eyes fil ed with mirth, total y unaware of anything amiss.

"Oh, my God," Natalie murmured quietly when it al snapped into place.

S.

I tossed uncomfortably in bed, unable to escape the fear that had fol owed me into a night of restless sleep. I dreamt of him again and again, sometimes finding myself wrapped in the tenderness of his arms, and other times met with the harshness of the last words he had spoken to me. I didn't know which was worse.

When I couldn't bear to see his blue eyes in my dreams any longer, I rose and crept down the hal to Lizzie's room. Her door sat partial y open, just enough for the dim hal light to stream in, basking her room in a soft glow.

I leaned against the doorjamb, gazing at my daughter and wondering how any creature could be so beautiful.

She faced me, one cheek pressed into the pil ow as she slept on her side, her hair strewn out behind her. She clung to her favorite blanket, the plain pink one with satin trim. It was pul ed against her chest, her tiny hand fisted in the material.

Never had I felt so helpless. I would do anything to protect my daughter, but real y, I didn't know if there was anything to protect her from.

Even if the man had been Christian, what made me think that he would try to take Lizzie from me now? He'd made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the child, and I was sure a chance meeting was not going to change that.

Stil , I couldn't help but feel threatened by the thought of him being here, in my city. Standing silently in my daughter's doorway, I promised myself that no matter what happened, I would never al ow him to destroy my family, whether he came today or in ten years. Never would I al ow Christian the chance to hurt Lizzie the way he'd hurt me.

S.

By the time I made it to work the next morning, the rational side of me had discredited the possibility that the man at the store had been Christian, even though somehow in my heart I knew it was. I told myself he wasn't the only black-haired, blue-eyed man in the world, and that Christian was probably over two thousand miles away, by now a big-shot lawyer in his father's firm.

I forged through work, thankful it was Friday and that I had the entire weekend with Lizzie. I'd planned a trip to the beach, something that had become somewhat of a tradition for us. I'd loved it when I was a child. Some of my best memories came from the endless days I'd spent playing in the sand with my sisters, and I wanted to provide my daughter those same experiences.

The house was empty when I got home. Matthew had the day off, so he and Natalie had taken Lizzie to the zoo and said they wouldn't be home until around six. It gave me a chance to pick up around the house, tossing the toys from the floor into the toy box against the wal and straightening the kitchen, chores that always seemed to get neglected during the week.

Just as I turned the dial to start the dishwasher, the doorbel rang five times in a row. Grinning, I headed to the front door, knowing there was only one person who could be so impatient. I swung it open.

"Lizzie!" I sang, leaning down to my daughter's level so I could hug her, peppering her face with noisy kisses.

"Hi, Momma. Look what Uncle Maffew got me." Lizzie proudly held up a smal stuffed giraffe.

"Oh, how cute. That was so nice of him." Matthew ambled up the sidewalk, and I smiled widely at him as I rose, giving my unvoiced appreciation. He never failed to make my daughter feel special.

"Hey, Liz." Matthew leaned in to peck me on the cheek as he walked through the door, fol owed by Natalie who stopped for a hug.

"Hey, guys. Thanks for taking Lizzie. It looks like she had a blast." I glanced between the couple and Lizzie who was on her knees on the floor digging out the toys I had just put away, muttering about her matching stuffed elephant.

Matthew took the basebal cap off his head and ruffled his hand through his short brown hair. "No problem. We had a great time, didn't we, Lizzie?"

"Yep!" she agreed from her spot on the floor.

"You guys feel like staying for dinner? I'm making lasagna."

Matthew glanced at Natalie and then shook his head apologetical y. "Sorry, Liz, but we planned a date night." I tried unsuccessful y to hide the disappointment that flushed my face. "Oh, okay."

Matthew imparted a sad smile; one I knew wel ; one that told me it was okay to move on and that I didn't have to be alone. While I appreciated the sentiment, it was something I would give no consideration. The only relationship after Matthew I'd attempted had ended in near disaster, and I'd accepted that I would never love again.

That knowledge rendered dating senseless. I'd only be wasting precious time that could be spent with my daughter.

Pretending not to notice the silent conversation Matthew attempted to have with me, I cal ed to Lizzie to come and tel them goodbye. We fol owed Matthew and Natalie out to their car, Lizzie giving hugs and kisses for the weekend away. I hugged them both, whispering my thanks.

They both assured me, once again, that they should be the ones to thank me.

Standing at the edge of the road in the driveway, Lizzie and I waved and watched them drive away. I glanced down at Lizzie who was hugging my leg and grinning up at me.

She was just so precious. Lovingly, I ran my hand through my daughter's hair, my toothy smile matching hers. "Are you hungry, my princess?"

Lizzie nodded against my hand when I moved it to cup her cheek, her smile evident where it was pressed against my palm. Breathing deeply, I savored the emotion that traveled between us, only to go rigid when I heard a voice I could never forget, cal ing out my name.

"Elizabeth?"

Seven point three miles.

I stared unblinking at the screen as I turned the number over in my head.

Elizabeth Ayers lived seven point three miles away.

My finger shook as I traced the line on the map, the fantasy of my child living near becoming a firm reality. My chest fil ed with the same emotions of adoration I'd felt earlier when I'd first seen the child as I al owed my mind to wander with possibilities, possibilities of knowing her, of loving her-of being her father. I wanted desperately to fil that position. And I knew she wanted me too.

At the same time, I was terrified of seeing Elizabeth again. The thought of her in another man's arms was almost unbearable, made worse by knowing I had forced her there. But greater than al of that would be standing in front of her with the shame I bore. I knew I deserved nothing of them, deserved to play no part in their lives, but whether I deserved it or not, I could not turn away. The child's face was burned in my mind.

Work passed much too slowly. I spent the day trying to focus on the things I had to finish, but my mind continual y strayed to a little girl with black hair and blue eyes. The moment my last meeting of the day adjourned, I was on my feet and heading out the door, dodging the inevitable interference of employees with need for direction. On any other day, I wouldn't have minded, but today was different. I quickly excused myself from each conversation with little more than a word and hurried to the elevators to the parking garage below.

Entering the address I had memorized the night before into my GPS, I set out to find my daughter. Each beat of my heart pounded harder the closer I got. By the time I turned onto the narrow street lined with smal houses, I could hardly breathe. The ability left me altogether when I came upon the address.

Standing in the driveway was my daughter in Matthew's arms, the same child I had fal en in love with the day before. She was hugging him fiercely. I was overcome with jealousy and loss as I watched the scene in front of me.

I fought those emotions, reminding myself that this was my fault. Quickly, though, my jealousy became confusion as I watched Matthew set the child down and pul Elizabeth into a hug before placing an unassuming kiss against her cheek. That confusion only grew when Matthew turned to the same woman from yesterday, took her hand, and led her to his car.

Quickly, I pul ed to the curb across the street, making sure two cars parked on the road obstructed the view of my car.

I sat, perplexed as I witnessed Matthew lean across the console of his car and kiss the girl after she sat down in the passenger seat. The kiss was not obscene, but clearly one shared between lovers. Then the two drove away and left me struggling to make sense of what I had just seen.

My heart sank as shock shifted to realization. No. I shook my head, biting the inside of my mouth and drawing blood. "No," I wheezed out, this time aloud. I squeezed my eyes shut, wil ing myself to just breathe before I passed out.

Matthew was not with Elizabeth. I slammed my fist down against my leg, my head fil ed with accusations as I silently cursed myself for being so incredibly stupid. He was supposed to be with her, loving her, caring for her. I literal y felt sick with the hatred that coursed through me, that judgment directed only at myself.

Opening my eyes, I looked back toward the driveway.