Tate crawls into my lap and curls her tiny body against my chest. “Daddy.” She peers up at me with her big blue eyes. “Is Tilly going to be our new mom?”

There’s no manual for these types of questions, but there sure as hell should be. There’re a million manuals on feeding, sleeping, and ways to raise your kids without killing them in the process. But I haven’t found anything that has taught me how to deal with the death of a parent and finding a new love that’s worth a damn.

I kiss her hair and inhale the sweet strawberry scent of her baby shampoo. “Baby, your mom will always be your mom.”

She blinks a few times as her lips purse. “I know, but what’s Tilly going to be?”

I hold her tightly, wishing I could keep her this size forever. “What do you want her to be?”

I’ve learned a lot about life from my kids. They have an enduring ability to see the good in all things, no matter how dark shit gets. They view everything differently from adults, even relationships. Their minds aren’t cluttered with hurt from the past, even though they’ve lost more than most at their young ages.

Tate pulls at her bottom lip as she stares at me. “Is she going to live with us?”

Tate’s getting way ahead of herself, but I can’t deny I’ve thought about what the future’s going to hold. We haven’t talked about if we’re going to live together or get married. We’re still too new for me to pull the trigger on something so big.

If it were just me, I’d have no issue jumping the gun and marrying Tilly, making sure she’s mine forever. But with the kids…everything is hard. I have to think ten steps ahead and make sure I’m not going to fuck up their little minds.

“Not yet.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

“Tilly has her own place, baby.”

“Can she sleep over sometimes?”

I laugh softly. “Do you want her to?”

Tate nods quickly. “She’s fun.”

“And I’m not?”

“Well.” She glances away. “Sometimes you are.”

I try not to let her words slay me, even though there’s a bite to them. I know I haven’t been the most fun parent the last few years. My head’s been elsewhere, and my heart’s been broken. Tilly’s like a breath of fresh air carrying cupcakes and smiles, while I’m the grumpy bastard who doesn’t always want to have a tea party.

“You’re right.” I look down at her. “She is fun.”

“She and I can play dress-up and eat cupcakes.”

There’s the food. There’s always food on her mind. I’d love for Tilly to be here, playing with the kids. They need a woman’s touch and love. No matter how hard I try, I can’t be all things at once. I’ve tried to be the mother and the father, but it’s nearly impossible.

I don’t think my kids are lacking in love. My parents and siblings shower them with so much affection, they never wonder if they’re loved.

“Do you think we can have cupcakes for breakfast when Tilly sleeps over?”

“Cupcakes are dessert.”

“Cupcakes can be anything we want,” she tells me like she’s the one in charge.

“We’ll talk about it when she’s here.”

She nods. “I really like Tilly, Daddy. Grandma likes her too.”

“Oh yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.

Tate’s probably heard more than she should have hanging around with my mother—and especially from Daphne.

“Grandma said she’s good for you.”

Good isn’t even the right word to describe everything Tilly is to me. She is better than good. She makes me want to be my best self. She’s reminded me that I still have the ability to love. I thought I’d be alone for the rest of my life, never meeting anyone who understood my pain until Tilly came into my life.

“She is, Tate.”

“She reminds me of Mommy. She’s always happy,” Tate tells me.

Marissa was never without a smile on her face. She would light up a room. All eyes would be on her, trying to soak up her goodness. Tate has the same gift, and every day I see so much of Marissa in her. It comforts me to know I have a piece of her with me always.

“I’m happy too.”

Tate laughs. “No, you’re not.” She twists her hands in her lap and glances down. “You are now, but you haven’t been.”

I feel like a shit father, but I’m not the type of guy that can hide my feelings. I tried my best around the kids. Did everything I could to shelter them from my rage and hurt, but clearly, I wasn’t as good at it as I thought I was.

I lift her chin, needing to see her cute little face. “I’m sorry, Tate.”

There’s been so much guilt since Marissa died. The sadness is always there, but the guilt sometimes can be suffocating. I know I could’ve done better. I should’ve been able to focus more on the kids and not on my sadness, but it took me a long time to get past the anger and hurt. Longer than I had expected or wanted.

“I love you, Daddy.” She smiles.

There’s nothing better than hearing those words.

“I love you too, baby.”

She wiggles free of my hold and slides down my leg. “So, how about we play princesses?”

I growl softly. I’d rather stick needles in my fingertips than play princesses, but I can’t break my kid’s heart. She’s playing me like a fiddle, knowing she has me right where she wants me.

“Sure,” I say. Who can say no to that face? I thought it would be easier to put my foot down the older she got, but I’ve failed miserably.

She’s my weak spot.

“Really?” Her mouth hangs open. “You can be Cinderella.”

My head jerks back. “What if I want to be Belle?” I tease.

She touches her chest. “I’m Belle.”

“Can I be the Beast, then?”

’Cause let’s face it. I’m a shit princess.

“Can I play?” Brax asks as he walks into the living room, carrying his baby blanket and letting it drag on the hardwood floors behind him.

Tate turns around and stares at him for a second. “Fine,” she says with a sigh. “You can be…” Her voice trails off.

I prepare myself for whatever crazy thing she’s about to say that’s probably going to make Brax cry. There’s a tiny demon in her that gets joy out of terrorizing her brother.

“You can be the teacup.”

His eyes light up. “Yay!”

The kid’s weird, but he probably would’ve been happy if she’d made him a rug because at least she didn’t tell him no and to get lost.

“You two have to do whatever I say.” She glances from Brax to me with a serious face. “I’m the princess.”

I’m already not liking the sound of this. Tate’s bossy to begin with, and given free rein, she’ll be a complete diva. “How about we just watch the movie instead?”

She twists her body and chews at her lip. “Only if I can make popcorn.”

“Butter?” I ask like an idiot.

She looks at me like I have three heads. “Daddy, who likes popcorn without butter?”

“Get your pillow and blankets, and Brax and I will make the popcorn,” I tell her because I’m not going to argue with the kid about butter.

She’d probably bathe in it if I let her.

She runs to her bedroom, leaving Brax and me alone. “You okay with watching the movie again, buddy?”

He nods slowly and lifts his blanket near his face. “It’s scary sometimes.”

“Come here,” I tell him and motion for him to come to me.

He runs across the floor, almost tripping on the shredded blanket he refuses to give up. I don’t have the heart to take it from him either. Not as long as it makes him happy, even if it’s about to disintegrate.

“I’ll protect you from the Beast, Brax. I love you,” I tell him as I hug him tightly.

My kids can never hear those words enough from me. I say them daily, hoping that when they’re older and I’m no longer here, they’ll always remember they were loved. I’d do anything for them. I’d give my life if it meant they would be happy and healthy.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

I ruffle his brown hair. “You want to help me make popcorn?”

“I want my own.”

“We’ll each have our own bowl.”

The last thing I want is them fighting over the popcorn. Tonight’s family night, and I could use a little peace and quiet. I don’t want Tate flipping her shit because Brax is hogging the food, or God forbid, I do.

An hour later, after only one yelling match about who’s going to sit on which side of the couch, the popcorn is gone and the kids are glued to the television. They’re curled into my side as I hold them against me and close my eyes.