“I will stay with you! I’ll stay with you, okay?”

That shuts her up for a second. She’s very occasionally asked me to stay with her after story time – more often the proposition has gone to Daddy Luke – but we’ve both been firm about saying no. She needs to…

She needed to be okay about sleeping by herself. Now, though? Fuck it.

“All night?”

“Until the morning, yeah.” I stroke her hair back from her forehead, then kiss her. “Okay? Daddy Rob will stay here with you, okay? Cuddle up and keep you warm until the morning. Keep you safe.”

She curls up into herself at this, delighted. “I love you, Daddy Rob.”

I smile next to her, honestly touched, for a split second removed from the circumstance and just glowing.

“I mean, I love Daddy Luke too…”

“I know you do, darling. So do I.” I feel a lump riding in my throat at that last, but I don’t think it makes it into my voice. “Go to sleep now, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you for staying with me, Daddy Rob.”

It’s far too much. I kiss her again and hug her tight – what she calls with delight ‘a big squeezy’ – and then settle next to her, still covering as much of her body as I can with my own; partly as warming blanket, partly as shield.

I think about the layout of the room again. I’m pretty sure I could navigate out into the hall, maybe even down the stairs… but there’s problems with that. For one, even if I did, I don’t know where the torches are. Not a clue. For another, I’d have to leave her behind, and she’d freak out completely.

And the reason I’d have to leave her behind is because we’re both barefoot, and there’s broken glass all over the floor from the window. And I am no Bruce Willis, I think. I smile to myself in the dark, and feel the smile twist as the tears threaten to come. I choke them down as best I can,

I don’t want to wake her.

4

Sorry for the present tense. I know it’s confusing. I’m not much of a writer. But it’s how I remember it, you see. It’s all still so fresh. And I want you to see it, to feel it, the way I did. I want, as much as I can, for you to feel it as though it were happening, not as something past.

I don’t want to think about being past. About her as past.

I’m not ready for that.

5