Oh, God. “Dauphine. Honey.” My voice failed me, and I blinked away the tears that pooled in my eyes. Pursing my lips, and then mashing them together, I tried to stifle the wrecking ball that was crawling up my throat. Especially when I heard the soft sniffle that told me Dauphine was now crying too. The tears in her eyes glinted in the glow of the iPad.

“Please, Josie?” Her voice was so small and shaky, it felt like my chest might crack. “Do you not love me very much?” she asked.

“Oh, Dauphine.”

Fuck.

I let out a wobbly breath and sniffed since my whole head was now liquefying. And she would see I was crying. I squeezed my eyes shut and got it together with superhuman force of will. “I love you. I love you so, so much.”

“Then why can you not come here?”

“It’s not so simple. Just because people want to be together, doesn’t mean it’s always right.”

“Do you love, Papa?”

I swallowed. “Sweetheart. I, that’s … that’s between your father and me.”

“But if you come here then maybe you can fall in love.” She hiccupped.

Suddenly she disappeared from the screen in a rustle of sheets.

“Dauphine?” Xavier’s gruff and sleep-infused voice thumped me in the solar plexus. He murmured to her in French, confused, questioning. It was muffled. She’d obviously hidden her device.

Shit.

Should I hang up?

I chewed my lip, debating. I should. But I didn’t want her to think I’d hung up on her, or leave her to try to explain our conversation by herself. I also, God help me, wanted to hear his voice again. I wanted to hear the low rumble of his throat and soft soothing French words I would probably not understand as he calmed his daughter. My fingers hovered over the end button when all of a sudden a lamp in Dauphine’s room flicked on and Xavier’s face filled the screen.

My chest ballooned with the overwhelm of seeing him. I stared, drinking my fill for endless moments. He seemed equally stunned though perhaps not for the same reasons. His eyes were tired, bloodshot, and I wondered if he’d been having his midnight whiskeys again. His bed hair made my palms itch to reach through the screen and smooth it down. Warmth unraveled through my insides. “Josie,” he whispered, then cleared his throat.

We stared for two long beats.

His features hardened.

“Wait,” I said.

But the screen went blank.

I flung my phone on the bed next to me as I fell backward.

“Goddammit,” I yelled and covered my eyes, pressing away the sting in them. The impact of seeing him kicked like an old bruise on my ribcage. And the tiny imploring voice of Dauphine who saw things so plainly, like only children could, had near ripped my damn heart out.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Josie?”