Why now, after so many years?

And in that second, I wanted to know why he was looking at me as if he wanted me.

His move to touch me had shocked me back into my reality. Dangerous. I had been there before, and I knew that if I al owed him to speak, to explain, I would so easily fal prey to his deceit. I would believe, and believing in Christian Davison again would be the most foolish move I could ever make.

"Hey, Liz, where do you want this?" Mom stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, holding up the heart-shaped pinata she had fil ed with candy and little goodies for the kids.

"Um . . . I think Matthew has a rope set up for it outside." I glanced at him, and he nodded, already walking her way.

"I'l take care of that, Linda."

"Thanks." She handed it to him, and Matthew disappeared through the sliding glass door to the backyard. Mom lingered, watching me as I gathered the last bunch of bal oons to take outside to finish off the decorations.

"You okay?" Mom's voice was deep with concern, her face etched with the kind of worry only a mother could feel.

I smiled sadly at her. Mom and I were very close and shared most everything. She knew how deeply Christian had wounded me, and there was no one who understood it as wel as she did. My own father had left her for another woman, leaving her alone to raise three little girls. He'd just disappeared in the middle of the night from our lives forever.

"I'l be okay, Mom."

She searched my face, not believing my answer. It was as if she could sense every fear I had. "You'd better go upstairs and finish getting Lizzie ready. It's nearly two-thirty.

I'l help them finish up outside." She tilted her head toward the ceiling, breaking the intense moment we'd shared.

I nodded and started up the stairs. Lizzie's laugh floating down to me lightened my mood. Her cousins were obviously very successful in entertaining her while the rest of us prepared for her party. My family was so supportive, and I couldn't be more grateful. Happily giving up an entire Saturday for us, everyone had shown up first thing this morning to set up.

Al three children were on Lizzie's bedroom floor.

Lizzie and her cousin, Maggie, who was just a year older, were listening intently as Maggie's older brother, Brandon, read them a story. It was so adorable.

I watched them for a couple of minutes before interrupting. "Hey, Lizzie. It's time to get dressed. Your guests wil be coming soon."

She jumped up, squealing and running around in circles in her room. "Yay!" She was wound up tight, but I could only grin because of her excitement. I pul ed her princess dress from her closet, and she squealed again when she saw it, clapping her hands wildly.

"Oh, Mommy, I'm gonna be so pretty!"

Maggie and Brandon left the room, and I helped Lizzie into the pink, fril y dress, which was real y a dress-up costume, one she'd seen at the toy store and had fal en in love with. It was a bit out of my price range, but I'd set aside a little over the last month and surprised her with it after I'd gotten home from work last night.

"You are the prettiest princess I've ever seen," I said with a smile, kissing her nose. She giggled, and twirled in front of the ful -length mirror on the back of her door. I pinned the plastic tiara in her hair, and she stepped into the little satin slippers.

My princess.

"Thank-you, Momma." Her voice was soft and fil ed with appreciation and love as she looked at me. She was the most amazing child.

I hugged her tightly before sitting back and holding her smal hands in mine. "You are so welcome, sweetheart.

Happy birthday." I wasn't surprised to find tears in my eyes.

I was feeling very emotional, both saddened and joyed that my baby girl was turning five, not to mention the intense strain Christian had placed in my life. Lizzie reached out, catching a tear with her finger.

"Don't be sad, Mommy."

I shook my head, vehement. "No, baby. These are happy tears." She'd seen me cry so much lately, and I refused to al ow another emotional breakdown to affect her day.

"Come on. Let's go see your surprise." I stood, holding my hand out to her. She took it, my assurance enough to erase the concern I had caused in her. Her feet were anxious as she dragged me down the stairs.

Lizzie froze the moment she stepped outside, her face alight in awe. "Oh, Momma," she whispered as she slowly took in our smal backyard that had been transformed into her kingdom for the day. Matthew had rented a huge white tent that covered the entire yard from the end of the patio to the wal , the kind normal y reserved for weddings. Hundreds of pink bal oons hung from it, covering the entire underside.

Silver streamers curled out from them, glinting and shining in the afternoon sun. Natalie and my little sister, Carrie, had painted a mural they'd attached along the back wal with a scene depicting a white castle surrounded by rol ing green hil s scattered with white unicorns. A few tables sat under the patio, covered in pink tablecloths, each centered with a different fairy tale princess surrounded by fresh-cut flowers.

My older sister, Sarah, had volunteered to make a cake, and the huge 3-D princess cake sat proudly on a table that was pushed up against the wal .

Her face glowed. "Thank-you, Mommy." She looked up at me from where she stood at my side, her hand stil firmly in mine.

I gestured with my head to the rest of our family who had gathered in front of us, each of them eagerly awaiting her reaction. "It wasn't just me, Lizzie. They did this for you." Never would I have been able to do this without them. They were so good to my daughter, so good to me, and I loved them more than the world.

Lizzie shot forward, hugging and kissing each of them, giggling and blushing as everyone claimed that she was the most beautiful princess they'd ever seen. I gazed upon my family, silently thanking them for everything they'd done.

Their eyes swam with affection, holding the promise that they wanted it no other way.

They'd never viewed us a burden, even though sometimes I felt that way.

Lizzie's eyes grew wide in excitement with the sound of the doorbel , while mine grew wide with alarm.

"It's party time!" Natalie sang, swooping in to take Lizzie into her arms and spinning her in an exaggerated dance as they disappeared into the house to answer the door.

Nervously, I ran my hand over my face and through my hair in a vain attempt to calm myself.

Sarah appeared at my side, nudging my shoulder.

"Relax."

I suppressed a snort.

How could I relax when I had to welcome Christian into my home, the one who had wounded me deeper than anyone, the one who haunted my days and held me in my dreams?

Impossible.

The worst part of it al was, somewhere deep inside me, I knew that al owing him here today was official y inviting him into our lives.

Anticipation stirred, pushing me forward.

Yeah, I was nervous and unable to imagine how an afternoon spent with Elizabeth's family could turn out pleasant, but I didn't care. Seeing my daughter again, sharing her birthday with her were the only things that mattered.

Last Saturday had been the most important day of my life-wonderful, perfect, and entirely horrifying-but the most important. Standing in the middle of the McDonald's parking lot and watching the tail ights of Elizabeth's car disappear, I'd been hit with so many emotions, and I couldn't discern them al . For the first time I real y understood what I'd missed. I hadn't been there when my child was born, had no idea what she looked like as a baby, hadn't witnessed her first steps, her first words. I'd missed birthdays and holidays, years of love, and certainly plenty of heartache. I missed Elizabeth.

God, I missed Elizabeth.

Sleep eluded me that night as I dealt with the anger; al of it directed at me. Lizzie had undone me that day, and once she'd loosed the regret that I'd kept bottled inside for years, I could not hold it back any longer. My soul mourned for what it had lost, for every day I had lived without them, for every moment wasted, for time that could not be reclaimed. I'd buried my face in my pil ow as I thought of Elizabeth and the pain I had caused her and what she must have felt.

Shame.

I'd felt it before, but that night it devoured me. By the time the sun broke through the night, I'd accepted that I could never do anything to erase those mistakes. They had marred our lives, sending them on a course they never should have gone. The only power I had was in today, and I was determined to live every day for Lizzie and Elizabeth.

Even if Elizabeth never forgave me, I would live for her.

That didn't mean I'd forgotten what my mother had told me. Elizabeth needed time to deal with my return, time to figure out where I would fit into their lives.

I started by asking for seven fifteen.

When I cal ed at seven fifteen on Sunday evening, Elizabeth had answered, sounding irritated, icy.

But at least she'd answered. I'd take what I could get.

I'd only offered a quick unreturned hi and asked if I I'd only offered a quick unreturned hi and asked if I could speak with Lizzie to ask her what she wanted for her birthday. As strong as the urge was to apologize again and try to talk to Elizabeth, I'd realized my words were never going to mean anything to her until I showed her I real y meant them.

Of course, I wanted to know what Lizzie wanted for her birthday, but it was real y just an excuse to cal . The disquiet I'd felt the entire day in her absence was put to ease with the sound of her voice, giggling as she sang hi, Daddy into the phone, her words a warm embrace. When I'd cal ed the next day at the same time, Elizabeth had seemed just as irritated but maybe less surprised. By the third night, Lizzie answered, squealing Daddy into the phone.

The amount of love that surged through me each time I heard her voice was shocking, more than I'd ever imagined possible.

I spent those cal s listening to her, learning her, knowing her. Through them, I also gleaned information about Elizabeth, smal tidbits that answered some of my questions and others that only gave rise to more. I never asked, but whatever Lizzie offered, I was al too happy to accept.

Seven fifteen Lizzie could count on, whether I was alone on the balcony of my condo, staring out at the bay, or if it drew me from a board meeting-it was our time.

My breath caught in my throat when I turned onto their street and saw the number of cars lining it. Pink bal oons tied to a mailbox flapped in the breeze, confirmation for partygoers that they had come to the right place. A shaky feeling swept through me when I stepped from my car and heard the sounds of playing children and adult conversations coming from Elizabeth's backyard. I pul ed the four presents from the trunk of my car and attempted to balance them with one hand while I swept the other hand through my hair in another vain attempt to calm myself.

Ringing the doorbel , I felt my chest tighten with excitement and dread.

I shifted uncomfortably while I waited unsure of who I would face first. When the door swung open, I looked around the stack of presents I had balanced in front of me.

The smile on the woman's face melted into a hardened scowl. I recognized her as Sarah, Elizabeth's older sister, though I'd only seen her in pictures. The two bore a remarkable resemblance. The only difference was the five years and probable twenty pounds Sarah had over Elizabeth, though neither of those things made her any less attractive.

I offered a feeble smile.

She narrowed her eyes and stepped back against the wal . She crossed her arms over her chest and al owed me inside without a welcome.

I grimaced and dropped my eyes to the floor as I stepped over the threshold.

This was going to be uncomfortable.

"Everyone's out back," she mumbled.

I offered a meek thank-you that remained unreturned.

Shifting the packages in my arms, I took in my surroundings and grinned.

Elizabeth.

The place screamed it. It was warm and cluttered and messy.

In the middle of the room sat a cozy brown couch with fuzzy blankets draped over the back and large pil ows thrown randomly against it. A toy box overflowed, spil ing toys out onto the carpet. Framed pictures sat on every shelf and table, mingled with the books on the large bookshelf in the corner, and covered the wal s that led upstairs.

I wanted to study each one to discover Lizzie at every age. Instead, I forced myself to fol ow the noise from the backyard. I walked through smal living room and the archway that led into the kitchen. A sliding glass door sat wide open to the party happening just outside.

I took a deep breath, tried to convince myself I could do this, and stepped through the doorway.

"Daddy!" Lizzie screamed over the roaring volume of voices.

Silence washed over the gathering. Guests trailed off mid-sentence as they turned to look, or rather, glare at me -everyone except the precious child who threw herself around my leg, hugging me. I smiled at her, dropping to my knee to pul her into a one-armed hug as I continued to balance the packages in the other. I nearly melted when I saw what she wore.

"Hi, sweetheart." I kissed her dark, silken hair, careful to avoid the adorable tiara she wore. "Happy birthday."

"I'm so happy you came, Daddy." For a moment, I forgot she was a five-year-old child. There was so much emotion in her words and maturity in her tone as if my presence was a validation of trust and she understood my heart. I could only pray she did.

"Me too," I said to reassure, hugging her to me again.

"Me too." I patted her back before releasing her. She grinned and then raced to rejoin the group of children running and playing on the grass.

Me too.

Even if it meant enduring the quiet hostility that had settled over the smal group of adults in Elizabeth's backyard, it was worth it. They stood straighter, backs rigid, taking a protective stance. I didn't even want to begin to imagine what these people thought about me, though I couldn't blame them. If our positions had been reversed, I was sure I would feel exactly the same way.

Averting my gaze, I busied myself by searching for the gift table. I placed the packages on it, stal ing a moment before I turned back to face the awkwardness of the situation.

Everyone had returned to their conversations, though they now spoke in hushed, low whispers that I could only assume had much to do with me. Palpable tension clung to the air, the festivity dampened by my presence.

I warred against the need to justify myself to these people, to explain my intentions, and to apologize. Words meant nothing, I reminded myself. I had to earn that forgiveness, and that forgiveness could real y only come through one person-Elizabeth.

through one person-Elizabeth.

She'd ignored my arrival. Her back was turned to me as she spoke quietly to a couple I didn't recognize, and she acted as if she hadn't noticed the shift in the mood- pretended it meant nothing-that I meant nothing.

I found reprieve in a plastic chair at the far corner of the yard where I sank out of view and watched Lizzie play. She ran in and out of the house, the children playing a game of chase, al of them squealing and laughing as they moved in a pack. I leaned my elbows on my knees, straining to get a better look as they wove through tables, chairs, and in between the adults where they stood talking.

Lizzie's face glowed, happiness pouring from her as she raced around the yard.

So beautiful.

My child.

Never had I imagined that loving someone could hurt so much.

I did my best to keep from staring at Elizabeth, but there were times I couldn't help but search for her, to watch as she chatted with her family and friends, her hands animated and her laugh free, pure honey, thick and warm- sweet.

When she'd feel the intensity of my eyes upon her, she would immediately tense, but she stil never turned to meet my gaze.

So wrapped up in the woman in front of me, I jumped when the chair beside me shifted.

Shit.