She put up her hand to block the obvious apology that was coming. "Just . . . don't."

Dropping her hand and shifting her focus from me, she looked down at Lizzie, and her hardened face melted into sudden tenderness. "Let's get something to eat, sweetheart."

Lizzie nodded with excitement and fol owed her mother, Elizabeth's hold stil firm on our daughter's hand. I trailed by a few steps, getting in line directly behind them.

While a gentleman would have volunteered to pay, I was wise enough to know the firestorm that particular offer would bring. I watched in adoration as Lizzie swayed beside her mother, glancing over her shoulder at me every few seconds and flashing me the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. I loved her-so much so it hurt, and with each second that passed, it only grew.

After ordering, Elizabeth moved aside, and I stepped to the register. Honestly, the last thing I felt like doing was eating, but I asked for first thing I saw when I glanced at the menu. I al owed Elizabeth to lead, fol owing her and my child to fil our drinks before setting my tray on the opposite side of the table from them.

It was probably the most awkward situation I'd ever been in as I slid into the booth. I watched as Elizabeth hovered over the table. She took their food from the tray and put it on the table, jamming straws into their drinks and refusing to meet my face. The worst part was I couldn't take my eyes off her. Very unsuccessful y, I tried not to ogle her as she leaned in, tried to ignore how the grey tank top she wore exposed just a hint of the swel of her breasts, tried to pretend her tight black jeans didn't remind me of the perfection of her body and how it had felt against mine.

Damn it, Christian. Get yourself together. This was not why I was here. That reason suddenly climbed into the spot beside me, shocking me by choosing to sit next to me.

I grinned at her and scooted down a little to make room for her. She sat on her knees so she could reach the table, and then inched even closer so we were touching. Instinctively, I wrapped my arm around her back and pul ed her closer, nestling her against my side. It felt amazing. Then she kissed my cheek.

I froze, overcome with the staggering warmth created with that one simple gesture. I stared at her, unwil ing to look away from the love swimming in Lizzie eyes.

"Lizzie, please eat your dinner."

Affectionately, I patted my daughter's side, gesturing with my head toward her food. As much as I didn't want break the connection we'd just shared, the bond we were building, I hoped to keep from upsetting Elizabeth any more than I already had.

Eating in front of Elizabeth felt odd. We'd shared what seemed like a mil ion meals before, but now I felt extremely self-conscious as I took smal bites of my burger, feeling on edge as silence loomed over the table. Elizabeth appeared even more uncomfortable, probably because of the glances I kept sneaking at her every chance I got.

I had missed her so badly, never imagining I'd see her again. My eyes wandered over her face, taking in the changes and al that remained the same. She was thinner now, her cheekbones more prominent but not to the point of appearing unhealthy as she did when I had seen her just appearing unhealthy as she did when I had seen her just weeks before she had given birth to Lizzie. Her hair was mostly the same, stil dark blond and woven with natural highlights just a shade lighter than the rest, though she now wore long bangs that continual y seemed to fal over her eyes. When she'd push them aside, I would glimpse a foreign scar that ran just above her left eye. My gut wrenched with the possibilities of where it had come from. I stayed away from her honey-colored eyes as much as possible, not wishing to see the repulsion I knew I would find there.

Lizzie ate her nuggets and apples quietly, almost reserved, as if she could sense the tension in the air.

Hugging her body closer, I tried to pul her attention away from the sad place her mind seemed to have gone and whispered against her head, "I'm so happy to be here with you."

She turned to me, her expression hopeful. "Real y?" I wanted to ask her why she would think I wouldn't be, but I already knew the answer. Instead, I reassured her with a resolute nod of my head. "Real y."

With that, her insecurities seemed to fade away, and she launched into what seemed to be an impromptu game of twenty questions. She would ask me something, and after I answered, I would ask her a variation of the same question in return. It made me terribly sad that I was asking my daughter these things for the first time when she was almost five years old, but the fact remained that I didn't know what she did on a daily basis, her favorite foods, her favorite places. I didn't know what made her scared or favorite places. I didn't know what made her scared or made her cry. I learned today that it was seeing her mommy cry. I wanted to tel her it made me sad, too, but couldn't find the courage to say it aloud.

Elizabeth squirmed through our conversation, never offering an opinion and only answering when Lizzie specifical y asked something of her. Many times, she looked away, holding her jaw rigid, though it stil shook as she seemed to struggle through every minute of the conversation Lizzie and I shared. The only time she added anything was when Lizzie asked me where I lived, and I told her down near the water on Harbor. Elizabeth huffed and visibly rol ed her eyes as she mouthed a sarcastic "nice." I winced, expecting her anger but not her spite.

Lizzie, on the other hand, was thril ed to hear I lived by the water. She bounced in her seat as she squealed, "You live at the beach?"

Lizzie kept up an almost constant chatter as we ate- not that I minded. She had the sweetest voice I'd ever heard. She drifted closer the longer we talked, so close she was nearly sitting in my lap by the time she finished off her last nugget. She continual y smiled and constantly reached out to touch my face and hug my neck.

I felt so unworthy of the affection she gave. She loved so freely, trusted so easily. Would she feel the same when the innocence of her mind faded away, when she understood the meaning of betrayal?

"Al done," she sang as she swal owed her last bite.

"Can I play now, Momma?"

Elizabeth nodded tightly. It was apparent she would Elizabeth nodded tightly. It was apparent she would prefer not to be left alone with me. I, on the other hand, had been praying I'd have a chance to talk to her in private.

Lizzie started to scramble down, but she paused and looked at me. "Daddy, is it okay if I play now?" Trying to be discrete, I glanced over to Elizabeth, sure the simple sentence would cause her great distress, before uttering softly, "Of course, sweetheart." I understood what that sentence meant. She had accepted me, not only as her daddy, but also as her parent. Clearly, Elizabeth understood it too. Her face flashed red, burning resentment.

I watched my daughter until she disappeared into a red tube before I slowly turned to face Elizabeth. She leaned heavily on the table, staring at a fry she absentmindedly swirled in ketchup.

"Elizabeth," I said tentatively, hoping for once to have a civil discussion with her. She lifted her head, leveling her eyes at me. I sighed, averting my gaze as I ran my hand over the back of my neck, trying to chase away some of the tension before I gathered enough courage to look directly at her.

"Thank-you." I needed her to know how grateful I was that she was giving me a chance, even if it didn't seem like she real y wanted to give it.

"You didn't leave me much of a choice now, did you, Christian?" she said, her voice low and ful of hostility.

I shook my head, stupefied. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you joking?" she asked incredulously, hissing, "You're real y going to sit there and act like you didn't threaten to take me to court if I didn't al ow you to see her?" Shit. I should have known. The idle threat I'd made was the only reason I'd been al owed to see my daughter.

Elizabeth hadn't chosen to let me see Lizzie. She felt she'd been forced to.

What an ignorant asshole I continual y proved to be.

For one brief, self-indulgent moment, I considered not making the correction.

But while I wanted nothing more than to see Lizzie, to have a relationship with her, and to be a part of her life, there was no way I could go on with Elizabeth living in fear that one day I would try to take Lizzie away from her. If I were ever going to earn her trust back, I would have to start by being honest.

"No, Elizabeth." I leaned into the table, speaking barely above a whisper, "I won't do that. I was upset that you weren't returning my cal s, and . . . I . . . I just got caught up in the moment, and it came out. I won't put you through that .

. . I won't." I made the promise as I searched her face, praying she'd believe what I said, and praying even harder she wouldn't be angered further by the realization that she'd essential y been tricked into this meeting. When I'd threatened to bring the courts into it while I was at her work, I'd immediately wished I could take the words back. Law was what I knew, what came natural y, and it had dropped from my mouth before I could stop it. I would never want to put Elizabeth through something as harrowing as a child custody battle. I was certain we could work this out between us.

She sat up straight as she shook her head in disbelief.

Oozing cynicism, she said, "You always manage to get your way, don't you, Christian? I always knew you'd make the best lawyer. What was it you used to say? 'Twist it until it fits?' "

"Elizabeth . . . ," I pleaded. Manipulating her had never been my goal, but somehow I'd managed to do it without even realizing it. I should have made it clear then, when I'd seen the look on her face, but I'd been too injured by her parting words that it had never dawned on me what had spurred them. "I'm sorry."

"You say that a lot."

I shifted uncomfortably, muttering as I stumbled over my remorse. "I have a lot to be sorry for." The hardness on her face faltered, her eyes washed in sadness, before the wal s were back in place. But in that fleeting moment of vulnerability, I saw it, the light that had been Elizabeth, and it gave me hope.

Elizabeth jerked as she heard Mommy cal ed from somewhere above. Daddy fol owed quickly after. I looked up to find Lizzie waving wildly from a clear plastic orb that nearly touched the high ceiling. Irrational fear gripped me when I saw her. Logical y, I knew these playgrounds were made for children, designed for their safety, but I couldn't help the chil that shot down my spine. My eyes darted to Elizabeth who waved with just as much excitement at Lizzie. I turned back, waving too, though clearly without the enthusiasm the two of them shared.

"Isn't she a little smal to be up there by herself? It seems a little . . . high."

Elizabeth continued to wave as she spoke through her obviously forced smile, "It's terrifying being a parent, isn't it?" For the first time, her voice lacked its biting edge, and it felt like her assertion was more for herself than for me.

Gazing up at Lizzie, I could do nothing but agree.

"Terrifying."

In silence, Elizabeth and I continued to watch Lizzie, each of us turned to sit sideways at the end of the booth.

The question had been burning in my mouth the entire time we'd been here, and I final y found myself bold enough to ask it before I no longer had the chance. "So, you and Matthew aren't?" The pregnant pause supplied the rest.

Elizabeth jerked her head toward me, clearly shocked by my question. "What? No." Her nose wrinkled in the way it always had when she seemed genuinely confused by something. "What . . . how did you?" Her brow creased as she looked at me, puzzled.

"I just-"

She stopped me when the shock seemed to wear off.

"You know what? What I do with my personal life is none of your business." Shaking her head, she pushed her bangs aggressively from her face before turning her attention back to Lizzie.

Right. None of my business. Frustrated, I leaned on my elbows digging them into my knees and raked my hands over the back of my head while I stared at my shoes.

A now-familiar warmth spread through me, and I looked up, coming face-to-face with a very excited little girl.

"Did you see me up there, Daddy?" She pointed proudly at the clear bal . "I was so high!"

"Yes, sweetheart, I did see you. You're such a big girl." I left out the part where she had nearly given me a heart attack.

Elizabeth began to clear the trash from the table, piling their empty cartons and wraps on a tray, and I knew the most important day of my life was coming to an end.

God, I didn't want it to end.

With great reluctance, I stood and began to clean up my area.

Was this it? The last I would be al owed to see of my baby girl?

I choked on the pain elicited by that thought, my head pounding and stomach turning as every cel of my body protested.

"Come on, Daddy." Lizzie tugged on my hand that was suddenly in hers.

Shaken into motion, I numbly fol owed, hating each step that brought me closer to the end. Elizabeth walked with purpose ahead of us as if she had final y found her escape. Faster than my mind could process, we were standing beside their car, my hand firmly gripping Lizzie's. I was terrified to let it go.

Lizzie, don't let me go.

"Daddy, are you coming to my birthday party next Saturday?" I was pul ed from my inner discourse by her shocking question; it formed as if she had heard my shocking question; it formed as if she had heard my thoughts.

I cast a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, trying to gauge her reaction. She tensed before she final y spoke, the words control ed as she tried to hide the obvious tenor of irritation in her voice. "I'm sure he already has plans, Lizzie."

I shook my head rapidly. "No plans." Unless she wanted to consider me sitting on the couch, flipping mindlessly through television channels, plans.

Elizabeth huffed with indignation and turned away as she seemed to war with something within herself. Final y, she turned back to us and raised her chin as she said, "Three o'clock. My house." They were not just words. They were a warning that I heard loud and clear. Don't mess this up.

Swept in relief, I released the heavy breath I'd been holding and promised, "I'l be there."

The look Elizabeth gave me told me, You'd better be.

Lizzie squealed beside me, "Yay!" Then she threw herself into my arms, catching me off guard. I lifted her almost awkwardly, never having held a child, before hugging her to me, holding her tight enough to feel her heart beating wildly against mine. She squeezed her arms around my neck and buried her face in my chest. I breathed in the moment, memorizing everything.

Then against my ear, she whispered, "I love you, Daddy."

I gasped and hugged her even closer, as I love you poured from my mouth. My eyes burned with emotion, so much so fast, overwhelming. Tears slipped away before I understood what was happening.

For the first time since I was a smal boy, I was crying.

Opening my eyes to find Elizabeth staring at me, I mouthed a soundless thank-you. Whether she understood it or not, she had just given me back my heart. She held my regard for an instant before dropping her attention to the ground. My heart ached as I set Lizzie back on the ground, wishing to hold her forever, but pacified in knowing I would see her soon. She climbed into the booster seat and strapped herself in. Leaning in, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Goodbye, precious girl."

She grinned up at me, scrunching her nose in the cutest way. "Bye, Daddy."

Shutting the door was probably the hardest thing I'd ever done.

Elizabeth shuffled her feet in discomfort, her arms wrapped protectively against herself.

I wanted to say so much, explain, but figured today I'd pushed my luck about as far as it would go.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth," I said softly.

Her face contorted, twisted in agony as she chewed on her trembling lower lip. I hated that I made her feel this way.

Rushed with the urge to comfort her, I reached out, sooner than I had the chance to think better of it. Wide-eyed with shock, she reeled back. My eyes grew as wide as hers did when I realized what I'd done.

Then she jumped in her car and sped away.

Out of breath, I tied off what felt like the thousandth bal oon I'd blown up today. Not surprising, they were pink. Al of them.

Strong hands came to rest on my shoulders while soothing fingers massaged in an attempt to chase away the tightness in my muscles. "Are you doing okay, Liz?" I shrugged against his hands, glancing over my shoulder at Matthew. What was I going to say? That I was okay? Because I wasn't. Nothing seemed worse than Christian invading the safety of my home. Sympathetic eyes promised he understood.

Real y, I didn't know how I was going to make it through today. Watching Christian interact with Lizzie last Saturday had been nothing less than excruciating. I'd prayed that he just wouldn't show up, ending the whole thing quickly, instead of dragging the inevitable out.

Of course, he came.

Hearing Lizzie cal him Daddy had broken my heart al over again, and hearing him agree had made me want to spit in his face. I couldn't watch as Lizzie snuggled up to him, how he wrapped his arm around her, how he looked at her. I'd spent most of the time studying greasy fingerprints on the wal , fighting against the urge to grab my daughter and run out the door, and reminding myself that this was the lesser of two evils.

Then the bastard thanked me as if I'd given him a gift and denied that he would have taken me to court. So typical, he'd played the good guy after he'd gotten what he wanted. I'd decided right there that I was going to end this. I wouldn't al ow him to play games with me or with my daughter.

That plan was squelched when Lizzie had invited him to her birthday party. What was I supposed to do? Refuse my daughter? Her face held more hope than I'd ever seen.

I'd searched for an excuse, a reason for him not to come, certain he wouldn't sacrifice two Saturday afternoons in a row for a child that he didn't even know, a child that I refused to believe he cared anything about.

And since nothing ever goes my way, he'd countered, saying he had no plans. Lizzie was thril ed and had jumped straight into his arms.

The moment that fol owed had nearly ruined me, almost unable to bear what was taking place. I'd wanted to turn away but couldn't as Lizzie buried herself in his arms, her words muffled though clear. She told him she loved him, and he'd returned the affection. His tears almost made me question my resolve, the sincerity of his whispered thank-you.

Then when he'd stood before me, I'd almost broken down, the questions that had swirled in my head the entire time fighting release from my mouth.

How could you?

Did you think of me? Did you think of our child?

Why didn't you love me enough?

Did you even love me at al ?