The call comes hours later.

I know this because I haven’t been able to sleep. When the phone rings, Robin rockets off the bed, voice full of breathless hope and audible heartbeats as she answers with a quiet, shaking whisper: “Hello?”

I hold myself still. Keep my breathing quiet, not letting on that I’m listening.

“Hello?” she says again, this time a little louder. ‘Yes. This is Robin Love. Daughter of Captain Love. Yes, Sir. That’s me.” Her voice starts shaking more. “I can wait for the connection. I won’t hang up. Thank you, Sir.”

Sage, ever the solid sleeper, hasn’t budged from the chaise. Instead of waking, Robin’s activity has him rolling over, and he actually snores a few times.

Because I want Robin to have this call be as private as possible, I also roll over, facing away from her, breathing in deeply then out, acting like I, too, didn’t wake up.

“Dad? Daddy. It’s you? Really you.”

Each word she’s uttered has undone me. I feel like I can taste her tears at the back of my throat, and my chest has grown so tight at the sad-happy sound of her wavering voice I can hardly breathe.

“I love you too,” she’s whispering. “Let me catch my breath. Yes. Yes. I’m fine. Sage is fine. I’ll wake him up, hang on. He’s knocked out sound asleep.” She starts to move then stops. “Okay. Yes. Sure. You know how it’s hard to wake him anyhow. Let’s just talk then, you and me. Sure.”

A long, shuddering sniffle emerges from her—and I know she’s crying, only it’s a cry I’ve never heard—she sounds desperate, like she’s been holding this all back—like she’s a wounded animal. “Dad…don’t you cry, too. I don’t know what to say…I don’t know what to ask you, but please don’t cry, Dad.” Another round of sniffles as she listens. “Okay. Well, I can tell you it’s amazing to hear your voice. I can tell you that I’m so happy right now. How about that? Is it enough for now?”

Whatever he’s saying on the other side of the line is serving to help her to gain some control. “You’re right, so much time ahead of us now—and maybe if you don’t want to talk about it, maybe we don’t need to now? We can wait for that and like…we can talk about now. Why did you have to wait so long to call us? You just woke up? Why did they sedate you?” She sighs out. “Wow. Okay. So you are kind of sick? Or…Dad, what’s wrong with you. Please tell me at least those details. I want to know.”

“Oh. Good.” It sounds getting some control over her emotions. “Just tired. Okay…well that makes sense. Sage and I…we’re very tired, too. We’ve been running all round Europe. We’ve got jet lag and sometimes we’re awake at odd hours to travel, and so an irregular sleep schedule is part of our lives now. No. Dad. We’re used to it, honest.”

I wince at that, feeling guilty.

“You know we’re in Paris.” She pulls in a deep breath. “And, you’re in Berlin? Right? That’s what they told us and that is where we go next. Think, we’re so close to being in your arms. We’re so close, and everyone is okay. We’re okay. You’re okay and we’re going to be together.”

Her voice dissolves to tears again. “I prayed so hard, and every day. And—no. No. We were fine—even before Guarderobe helped us out, we were fine. You know me. You raised me right, and even if Guarderobe and Mrs. Felix hadn’t helped us, you know I would have handled it somehow.” She moves around some, I think fixing her pillow, before going on, “Though I can’t lie, Dad. It’s been great. They’ve been great. Stop switching the topic back to me. We’re so happy. We’ve been so safe this whole time. How do you feel? You haven’t answered the questions about you beyond telling me you’re tired. You’re not…hurt are you? You don’t have anything…permanent?”

She pauses again, I hear her shifting, scooting around more, maybe heading toward Sage?

I turn just a bit and catch her using the bedcovers she dragged off the bed with her to wipe away some of her tears, and the only reason I can finally breathe is because she laughs suddenly. The sound fills the dark room with its brightness, adding oxygen into our shared dark space.

“Dehydrated and skinny, is good. Right? Dehydrated and skinny is awesome, Dad. If that’s all, then you’re better than okay. I can’t wait to see you. How long will they observe you…or debrief you or re-hydrate you, or whatever?”

She pulls in a breath. “Okay. Well that’s not bad. It’s perfect actually because we need a few days to get to you. There’s some concerts for the guys to get through, and also this awards ceremony which I think will be kind of fun. And right after that, we will come straight to you at the hospital. I’m sure they will make a good plan, they’re experts at that. Either way you will have rooms booked at the same hotel where we will be staying.”

She laughs again and I can tell she’s going to be okay. That she’s processed some of this and she’s coming to terms with all of this being true, with her worst fears being erased—with her dad coming back to her.

With her life returning to normal.

She pulls in a deep breath. “Dehydrated is not better than married to a rockstar. Dad. Don’t even joke. Royce is amazing and wonderful. He’s been a perfect gentleman and now one of the two people Sage and I hold in highest regard—right next to you, Dad. I swear. He’s at your level.”

Her words fill me up---all while the words I can’t hear her father shouting are tearing me apart, because even without meeting me, it’s possible this guy knows me way better than his daughter does. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard the word, ‘asshole-player-manipulated you into marrying him.’

“Dad. No!” She pulls her covers over her head as she keeps talking. “Those kisses are for the press conferences only. What you saw of us on the London Eye was all for show. We had no clue someone had a video camera trained on us or that any of it would be posted online. So what? It was a kiss—and it was staged for a reaction. And…so we’re great actors. Dad. Please. We are all good and this is in name only and you need to stop going on the internet and reading insane stuff and just believe me.” She laughs again. “Please. Dad I’m not talking about kissing with you. I’m eighteen. Yes. Dad. Eighteen. And even though you’re misunderstanding everything you’ve seen, you should know that I can kiss who I want how I want, when I want. Dad…why are you shouting? Don’t. Dad. Please. Save your strength and believe me.”

She scrunches down into the covers a little more, and her voice grows tight like they’re back to the teen-to-parent relationship already. “Fine. We will talk about it once. But we’re doing it here and now, because when I see you in person and when you meet him in person, as well as his grandmother and uncle, I don’t want these thoughts you’re having, clouding things up between all of the good that has happened here. Royce—every single person in this band, as well as Mrs. Felix and Gregory deserve your respect, your thanks—and none of this cynicism.”

I wince, biting my lower lip, wondering what her dad is saying. I think of how she says I’m at his level, and then I think of the kiss he was referring to on the London Eye, and hell he’s right. I was not being a gentleman, not one bit. I don’t deserve her defending me.

She’s going on, “It’s been a marriage in name only, despite what you saw online and in magazines. Dad. Those shots were all staged. As for the photos you saw of the honeymoon, the outfits were a huge oversight, but how it played out, was also very staged. Everyone was so freaked out after the wedding, we didn’t have clothes sent in to the honeymoon suite.” She laughs a little. “Dad calm down. It wasn’t a real honeymoon suite in any, way, shape or form. The entourage was ‘leaving us alone’ to have our special honeymoon time but and we slept in a hammock, no one used the bed once, and we wrapped up in tightly-tied togas. I swear.”

She laughs again, this time her voice tinged with warning. “Take my word for it, because any more conversations in that direction ruins how awesome Royce has been with me, and it wrecks all the beauty of how I feel about him. And, Dad. It takes away from the awesomeness of what he and his whole family and friends did for me and Sage. You’ll love him, because I love him so much, Dad. Period. End of conversation and please trust me?”

* * *

My chest constricts. That or my heart has grown three times as huge.

She said she loves me to her father. Said it like she means it, said that and more and…hell. And I know she does mean it, because she’s Robin. This girl doesn’t lie, would never say what she doesn’t mean—not to her father, that’s for damn sure.

“Say what you want, Dad. But you’ll soon discover he’s exactly like you. Honorable and caring, kind and good, worries about everyone first before himself, and he works so hard to do the right thing in all situations. He’s so very good to me and Sage. No. I won’t hear another word. Again, wait until you meet him. All of them. Don’t say that—the first articles about me being a prostitute and all that happened in Orlando—that was my fault as much as it was his fault. He made it all safe and right by marrying me. Dad! No-Dad. I am not pregnant. Dad.” Her voice drops to a whispering-hiss. “Please, I’m not. You know I wouldn’t be. Our relationship is not like that.”

I’m wincing now. Imagining Robin’s father going online to try to trace the trajectory of our relationship. Nanny, for one week—prostitute for one day, teen runaway whose father is MIA marries world’s most notorious womanizing rockstar! Royce Devlin and his eighteen year old child-bride run away to an English castle for a second honeymoon and get caught kissing. Newlyweds Royce and Robin can’t keep their hands off of each other on the London Eye…

I wince again.

Shit…the last article I read just today was something about how Royce and Robin’s—‘Roybin’s’ nine month ‘countdown to baby’ has to be on—and did Robin have a baby bump. If he saw even one of the articles—and hell now I know he’s seen the video feed of me making out with Robin, well…of course, Robin’s father must hate me--big-time.

“Dad…and this is not fair. Please, I don’t want to fight about this. You’re piecing together all of this information based on magazines and internet posts and what you’ve been told by others. I want you to listen to me. To me and Sage. We are the ones who count. Don’t make assumptions, stay off the internet until you see us in person.”

She sighs out, sounding desolate as she continues, “You don’t know how crazy this life is. Wait until we’re face to face and believe in me. I’m still your daughter and nothing has changed inside of me. Okay? All of those other people don’t know what’s really happening here inside the inner circle. Please understand—all of it. I know it’s a shock and a stretch, but you don’t know what we went through. I was so afraid Sage was going to be taken away from me. They offered to help get me out of a situation I put myself into the first time I kissed Royce. That was my fault as much as his. Maybe more. They offered to search for you. Dad. It’s been terrible to miss you, but you have to understand that these people have taken the last few months of mine and Sage’s life and they’ve turned our nightmare into something that felt like a fairytale. They brought you home to us. This marriage was a kindness and a huge show of pure generosity. It’s become a friendship and they’re our family now.”

She pauses, listening. I can only hope the man has calmed down because, at least I don’t hear any more shouting through the receiver.

“Yes. It’s just like you going missing. We couldn’t control it, change any of it, even if we tried. You’ll have to absorb this and adapt. You’ll see. They paid for the investigators, and they are the ones who hired people. They paid off those people ten million dollars to let you go—”

“No. Dad. No.” She sits up even more, voice growing still. “There was no price. There’s no payback. Dad. I swear. Again, take my word—my word of honor that every bit of this has been legit. Dad. Please, just wait until we see each other. Please.”

Sage rolls over, finally hearing his sister and like a half-asleep puppy who’s heard a knock at the door he shoots toward her and the phone, but his legs aren’t awake yet. Nor does his body know he’s about to move so the kid literally lands on the floor in a thump and a tangle of long legs and blankets. “Robin. Is it him? Is it Dad? Holy shit…it’s Dad. Dad. Robin hand me the phone. Dad!”

Unable to stay quiet pretend I’m sleeping anymore because Sage has knocked over every bit of furniture around him including a large chair, I finally sit up and face them both, only to find them both now crumpled onto the floor.

Robin’s face is sheet-white and the phone is clutched so tightly in her hand it’s gone white, too. She’s also somehow tangled herself up in the bedding while trying to get to the collapsed form of her brother and his smaller form is curled up onto her lap.

If the sound of Robin’s voice cracking and saying she loved me to her father did me in, the sound of Sage breaking down with his relief that their father has finally called—watching Sage the smiling kid who’s kept it together this whole damn time like a champ crumple—has aged me ten years. One hundred years. Shit. That has to explain why my whole damn body hurts right now.

Phone nearly forgotten for now, Sage is simply shaking his head at Robin like he can’t…like it’s all too much. This is not a simple choked-up tearing up either, but full-on curled-up bawling. It looks like his whole body hurts, like he can’t face the phone in case this is all some sort of messed-up nightmare, or, like he’s grown so reliant on Robin, he’s staring at her like he’s in shock. “Dad…he’s okay?” He gasps out finally, the sound of his voice, raw like he’s eaten rocks. “He’s okay? Tell me he—that every bit of him—is okay. Tell me that they’re letting him come to us. Why isn’t he here already?”

“Hang on, Dad. I’m putting you on speaker,” Robin says, reaching to where the base of the hotel phone has fallen onto the floor next to them and pushes a button.

“Robin?” their father’s voice comes through the phone receiver. “Guys.” I hear him pull in a breath as he pauses to listen and then says, “Hey…hey…guys…Sage?”

I take in the scratchy-low, and very intense voice of a man who sounds very much like his son. Sounds like he wants to crawl through the phone line to get here, saying over and over again, “What’s wrong? What’s going on. Sage, talk to me, son. I’m here. I’m okay. I’m coming—or rather you’re coming to me. Sage. Talk to me, son.”

“Dad…hang on. He’s crying too hard. Hang on…Dad. We’re just so happy…please hang on a second.”

My throat closes up some as I take in Robin—handling things how she does. Her wild hair is flowing around her pinched, determined and ever beautiful face. She’s not shedding one tear because she’s on big-sister mode, taking care of her little brother.

Fierce. Warrior. Angel…

Their father commands over Sage’s cries, “Robin, it’s what I’ve been doing every day. Hanging on. Tell him I don’t care if he’s crying. I want to talk to him. Need to. Now. Sage. Sage. It’s me and I’m here and I’m okay.” His voice cracks as he’s obviously registering the extent of Sage’s sobs. “Sage I love you little dude. I’m okay. Talk to me, son.”

Robin’s voice encourages Sage, as she pulls him up into a tight hug, fixing the blankets around them while wiping the tears from Sage’s face. “Did you hear him? It’s him. He’s fine. He’s in Berlin, still. We’re allowed to go there, and he’ll be finished with his debriefing in a couple of days—right when we arrive there. Come on Sage. Nothing is hurt—he’s tired, he’s dehydrated and he’s whole. Say something to him.”

I get the courage to move only when Robin glances up at me, and instead of giving me a look that says I’m intruding, she simply smiles at me and beckons me over. Her saucer-round eyes so wide open that I can read that her happiness and feel how her relief—her belief that all of this is real and that she has her family back—is settling in. I pad over to her side and sit on the floor next to them, smiling as she—despite everything that’s going on—distractedly makes sure my legs are snuggled under some of the bed coverings as her brother takes the phone from her hands.

Sage, white-knuckling the phone just how Robin had been doing, starts choke-talking with only, “Hi Dad.”

Robin, breathes out an audible sigh and she leans into me. Accepts my arms around her like she’s using me to hold her up which I love. I pull her into a big-bear-side hug, breathing her in, wishing she would relax against me, but her whole body is still leaning toward her brother’s sobs. Leaning toward the man on the other side of the phone who’s still on speaker and who hasn’t responded to his son yet….

Because…his breathing has grown so harsh that I get this man has started bawling now, too.

* * *

Robin and I share a glance of horrible understanding, and I let my arms drop off of her like she’s on fire. Feeling completely awkward, I quickly stand up because I’ve got this urge to…fucking run.

Robin scoots away from me quickly, giving me this apologetic, half guilty looking backwards glance—and from the panicked look on her face and the way that she’s covering her mouth with a hand, the way her eyes have gone nearly wild with horror mixed with worry, I understand that Robin’s dad, may have never cried in front his kids before.

Crap. Does Robin’s expression hint that I should walk out of here?

Is she pleading with me to go?

Should I just…go?

“Dad. Dad,” Sage calls out again, his voice is destroyed as his father’s, while his back heaves from the effort of pulling in simple breaths.

“Sage,” their dad finally whispers over the crackling-popping line. “This is not how I wanted this call to unfold. Kids…I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Dad,” Robin calls out over their father choking out the words, “I love you…kids. I love you so much.”

Hell, I think as I start backing away. This man thinks he’s alone with his family. This man…Robin and Sage’s father…I know enough about the way that he is, and I’ve learned some about Special Forces dudes, to know he would never cry in front of a stranger.

And that’s what I am to this man.

A stranger.

Nobody.

Some dude he currently hates because I made out with his daughter all over Europe. I’m not part of this—of them.

I quickly tip-toe around the room gathering up things I’ll need for tomorrow, and head for the door as I hear Sage utter out, “I--love you so much, too, Dad. So happy you’re back. You’re okay. Safe.” The kid pulls in a shuddering weighted breath that is so heavy it nearly crumbles me. Sage goes on, “I’m sorry I flipped out I just—I couldn’t believe it and then I was so happy to hear your voice and…sorry.”

A loud, long breath comes out of the speaker phone. “There’s no shame in crying, son. None. In case you didn’t notice me losing my shit all over you two.” He crackles out a harsh chuckle and pulls in another long breath. “I’m going to get the hell out of this hospital bed as soon as I can. Apparently when you get as skinny and dehydrated as I was when they found me, you need to move slowly. I’m taking their advice which is why I’m not already standing in front of you two, but they’re trying my patience.” His voice grows quiet. “Your rescue company…the people you hired, they saved my life. Thank you kids…thank you for not giving up on me after—all this time. Will I even recognize you kids when I see you? Will you even recognize me? ”

Acting like I’m heading to the restroom, I duck the opposite direction and edge into the suite’s small entryway before Robin and Sage notice that I mean to duck out. But, because I’m me—the guy who’s always searching out that bit of information so I can maybe help fix stuff, I’m unable to walk out of earshot yet.

“Dad. It wasn’t that long,” Sage says, getting some of his bravado back. “And, we look exactly the same.”

“He’s lying,” Robin calls out. “He’s taller than me now, Dad. Maybe as tall as you are.”

Their dad laughs. “I suppose I should be warning you ahead of time. I might still look like hell in a few days. Lost the rest of my hair, and I know I’m skinnier. I’ve seen photos of you two. Online, in magazines, and hell….you’re both so sophisticated…so grown up. Beautiful. I missed so much of your lives.”

“Well…we’re not so different. Despite the altitude Sage has gained, I swear we’re exactly the same, aren’t we Sage?” Robin asks that like she’s trying to convince herself.

Sage pipes in, “And we don’t care how you look, as long as we get to go back to being a family again. I’ve missed that so much.”

“Me too. We’ll recover what we can. Soon.” He chokes out, suddenly his voice goes all rough again as he tries to cover it with a cough as he adds, “And once I’m done squeezing the hell out of you two, the three of us are finally going to go home. Home. Home where we can get our lives back, make up for lost time. Can we try to do that?”

They both answer “Yes,” so quickly and without hesitation, that the affirmation has knocked the remaining air out of me.

Quickly I step out into the hallway. After I’ve made my way to the elevators that will take me down one floor to Hunter and Vere’s suite, I have to pause and lean against the wall. Because…damn-me. I’m the now the one who can’t hold myself up.

I’ve known all along Robin’s going to leave me. Hell, it’s been part of the grand plan since the day I proposed to her. So why do I feel so fucking sorry for myself suddenly, when I’m supposed to be happy that this is all over way sooner than anyone expected it would be?

Robin’s father is alive, her dreams have come true. As planned. We did the impossible. But I can’t help think that… if Robin’s father is taking her home, well shit…what home, where will that be? And if she’s going back to be this family again, then were does that leave me when…she and Sage have been part of our family…

I shake my head, and push myself off of the wall, jabbing my finger into the ‘down’ button. Watching it light up, I force away my next wave of self-pity as I answer my own damn selfish question: It leaves me just where I started, that’s where. Just where I want to be. Single, without attachments, without responsibilities. Free. I know where I’m going and it doesn’t really matter where Sage, Robin and her father wind up as long as Robin is ultimately happy.

I need to just look at today—and today I think I’m going to the Eiffel Tower. And then I’ll breathe and look a bit ahead to where I’m going next. To Berlin, then to Barcelona, to Stockholm…that’s where I’m going, with or without Robin, that plan is set. And, I’m going there all while doing the job I love.

I’ve made a great friend, one I hope to keep and for the next few days and the rest will sort itself out. It’s not like I’ve had to rip-a-Band-Aid off fast. She and I still have a few days. She still gets to be my wife for a little bit more. She will sleep in my hotel room, and I will make a few more memories with her and then we will say goodbye and it will be…sweet.

I step onto the elevator, watching the doors slide closed and press the button for one floor below me, thinking…Hell yes, I’ll even get kiss her a few more times because—because even with the possibility of her father looking on his certain disapproval, I won’t be able to resist that.

And none of this is sad. None of it. Before she leaves me for good, I’ll get to show Robin the Paris of her dreams.

For the next few days, it will still be only me and her. Us. Making a memory that we do get to keep, forever. Which is why I mean to make it perfect.