I smacked the alarm clock and debated throwing the damn thing across the room. Hannah and I had gotten home at two a.m. that morning, and I’d forgotten to turn the damn thing off my usually seven a.m. wake-up call. I’d gotten a little sleep on the flight from Nashville, but not nearly enough to feel human.

I would have rather skipped the team flight, flown back commercial, and let Hannah get a good night’s sleep, but she’d been adamant that we’d be here this morning. I just wished I known why.

I rolled over, my hand reaching for the pillow that unofficially belonged to Ivy. We’d been—hell, were we even labeled? Well, whatever it was, we’d been that for almost three weeks now, and I hated waking up without her, which was pretty much every day with our playoff schedule and Hannah only having sleepovers once in a while.

Ivy had become a hard, fast addiction, and I didn’t feel right about my day until I saw or heard from her. Since she hadn’t been able to travel to Nashville for the first two games of the third round of playoffs, it had been three days since I’d seen her, which just flat-out sucked.

My eyes drifted shut as exhaustion crept in.

“Uncle Connor,” Hannah stage-whispered.

I opened my eyes and found her leaning over me, staring.

Cue horror-movie-worthy heart attack.

I suppressed my reflex to shriek and blinked the sleep out of my eyes. Was she wearing a dress?

“Hey, Banana. Hungry?” I asked since that was usually her first order of business. Mine, too, so we matched pretty well.

“Yes,” she admitted, practically vibrating with excitement. “But I’ve already prepared. Just get dressed in something nice, and I’ll meet you downstairs!”

“I can do that,” I answered, sitting up.

She gave me a huge grin and flounced off, her dress swishing with each motion. It was that pretty, pink, frilly one she’d bought with Ivy a couple of weeks ago that made her look like a princess. For special occasions, Ivy had told me, assuring me that girls needed one. More than one, if possible.

My phone buzzed, and I reached for it, reading the text with a quick swipe.

Ivy: Hey, are you up? I just got the strangest text from Hannah’s iPad.

Connor: Hey yourself. Yeah, she just ordered me to dress up and come downstairs. What did your text say?

Ivy: It was emojis she sends when she wants her hair braided, lol.

I had to laugh at that. Hannah had become obsessed with every braid she could do that would match Ivy’s, even going so far as to watch youtube tutorials.

Connor: Ha! Why don’t you come over, and I’ll take my girls to breakfast?

Ivy: Is that how you say you’ve missed me?

Connor: My mouth would love to show you how much I’ve missed you.

Ivy: That’s some offer. I guess I can come over.

Connor: You’ll be “coming” alright. Just as soon as I can get you alone.

Ivy: OMG, you’re killing me. Ok, give me ten minutes. I’m already at the coffee shop.

Connor: Early morning?

Ivy: I thought I’d surprise you, but Hannah texted first.

Connor: Is that YOUR way of saying you missed me?

Ivy: Shut up. I’ll be there soon.

She sent a kissy-face emoji which had me grinning as my feet hit the floor.

Maybe Hannah had missed Ivy, too, and that was why she was all dressed up? That or she’d simply decided that she was going to wear princess dresses as everyday wear, in which case, I was cool with that, too.

I took a two-minute shower, opted to leave the scruff on my face, brushed my teeth and dressed in slacks, a collared shirt and the Sharks tie Hannah had given me at Christmas, thinking she’d get a kick out of it.

Then I grabbed my phone and went downstairs to see what she had been up to.

My smile was instant as I heard Ivy’s voice. I walked into the kitchen from the back steps and saw Hannah perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island with Ivy behind her, weaving her hair into something I knew was going to take me awhile to get down later.

“Good morning, ladies,” I greeted, bending to kiss them both on the cheek.

“I missed you,” Ivy said without teasing or sarcasm. She was getting better at that, being open about her feelings.

“I missed you, too,” I admitted, setting a chaste, but lingering kiss on her lips. God, they were soft and tasted like peppermint, and Ivy.

“Eew,” Hannah called back, knowing better than to twist her head while Ivy was braiding.

“What, Banana?” I asked, releasing my hold on Ivy. “Don’t like it when I kiss Ivy?”

“Don’t care,” she told me honestly. “Just don’t get your kisses all over my hair.”

“Yeah, that’s not how that works,” I told her, dropping to her eye level.

Her green eyes looked at me with a look that had to be at least a decade older than she was. “Do you have girl hair?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know how it works?”

I shot a WTF look up to Ivy, who was biting her lower lip to keep from laughing.

“I guess I don’t know how it works with girl hair. I’ll be more careful with my kisses,” I promised her.

She gave me a tiny nod, not enough to mess Ivy up.

“Your coffee, my dear,” Ivy motioned to the counter with her head.

“Thank you, my darling,” I responded, echoing her fifties sitcom tone.

The first hit of caffeine touched my soul, and I leaned back against the counter with my coffee, soaking up every second of this moment as the girls talked about Nashville, the hotel pool, and how happy Hannah was that we’d won.

“I wish I’d seen it!” Ivy said to her but looked straight at me.

I gave her a soft smile, knowing that work had to come first for her right now. Hell, we were both at that stage in our lives. Hannah had changed my priorities, but with help, I was balancing it. At least I hope I was.

“Me, too!” Hannah answered. “I mean, Miss Bailey is fun, and I like Lettie, but watching the game with them wasn’t the same. I like things the same.”

“Same is good, but different can be fun,” Ivy reassured her. “You’ve had so many changes in the last two months, and I think you’ve handled different like a champ.”

My gaze shifted from Hannah to Ivy, and my heart fucking ached. But it wasn’t a bad ache. It was intense but tasted sweet.

Ivy smiled at me and went back to finishing Hannah’s hair. God, she was beautiful, dressed in a casual maxi dress that gathered in a high neckline around her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, and then dropped to the floor. How could something so modest be so damn sexy?

Easy, when it was on Ivy.

Her hair was loose, falling in golden waves that brushed the sides of her breasts, and her smile bright as she and Hannah fell back into conversation.

Fuck me, I wanted this. Every morning. Not that I couldn’t do Hannah’s hair, I was doing just fine thanks to Youtube and some really forgiving bows, but this...feeling. This comforting glow that had me enthralled as something as simple and domestic as watching the girls get ready on a Sunday morning.

I wanted to come home to this, too. Wanted family dinners, and popcorn movie nights, and taking Ivy to my bed at night. I wanted everything.

That ache returned, filling my entire chest.

Shit, I was falling for her, and it had nothing to do with the sex. It was just her, plain and simple. I even wanted to fight with her about the things we disagreed on, wanted her attitude to keep me on my toes, wanted her wild nature to rub off on Hannah so she’d know it was a great thing to grow up confident and mouthy.

“Well?” Hannah asked as she spun in front of me, halting my inner-epiphany.

“Gorgeous as usual,” I told her. “Now, I actually don’t have practice today, so what do you say I take you ladies to Nine’s for brunch?”

Hannah’s eyes widened. The way to the girl’s heart was always through food, and Nine’s was her favorite for brunch. Probably because she gave her “sparkling apple mimosas.”

“Is that a yes?” I asked.

“I’m in!” Ivy said, sipping on her coffee and taking her place under my arm. I tucked her in tight, loving the simple freedom of being able to put my hands on her.

“Hannah Banana?”

Hannah shook her head, her forehead creasing with worry. “I want to. I love the sparkle juice. But we can’t go. I already made breakfast. It’s in the dining room.”

“Oh!” I faked my excitement, feeling like I was missing something important. Really important. “Then by all means, lead the way!”

Her lips puckered and her hands twisted in the fluffy folds of her dress. “We can’t eat it. Not yet, I mean. But I’ll show you!” At that last bit she perked up, so I went with it.

“Okay, I can go with that. What about you, Ivy?” I shot her a look and hoped she read the confusion in my eyes.

“Definitely,” Ivy answered, squeezing my hand. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew that beautiful brain of hers was going to work, trying to figure out what Hannah wasn’t telling us.

Hannah took off running, her patent leather shoes squeaking as she ran through the open parts of the house, then across the foyer to the formal dining room that was used for...well, nothing that we’d thought of yet.

Thank God Ivy knew how to furnish it because I’d figured it was a good space for a ping-pong table. She’d just shook her head, showed me to the dining room sets that fit my style to a T, modern, comfortable, and minimalist, and my pingpong table had found a cozy spot in the basement.

“I think…” Ivy pulled me to a stop in the foyer, her eyes going wide as she took in the table. “Oh, no.”

I looked over but didn’t see anything that would cause that much alarm. There were two boxes of cereal—Lucky Charms and Frosted Flakes, a gallon of milk that made me wonder what time she’d pulled it out of the refrigerator, four bowls, and a bunch of bananas next to a pink scrap of construction paper.

“What?” I asked Ivy as Hannah straightened the spoons she’d set out.

Ivy’s eyes slid closed. “I want to be wrong. I want to be so very, very, very wrong. Do you know what today is?”

I blinked. “It’s Sunday. We have two days off, and then it’s game three at home.”

She shook her head. “Not what I mean—”

“Come see, Uncle Connor!” Hannah interrupted. “I set it all up.”

I gave Ivy’s hand a squeeze, and she nodded.

“What do we have here?” I asked as I stepped into the only formal space in the house.

Hannah raced toward me, and as I lifted her into my arms, she was already pointing out the seats. Who exactly were we expecting?

“See, that chair is for me because it’s in the middle. And that’s your seat. You’re closest to the Lucky Charms because they’re your favorite.” She turned to point to the other side of the table. “And that is for Ivy, and that one,” she pointed to the seat at the foot of the table, where there was a pink handmade card and a small, tissue-wrapped present the size of my palm. “That’s for my mommy.”

My arms tightened around her so I wouldn’t let go in shock. It was Mother’s Day. I hadn’t thought about it in years.

“Oh, Hannah.” My voice dropped to a whisper as my stomach hit the floor.

“So, we can’t go to Nine’s for sparkle juice because mommy will be here any minute!”

She looked so excited, so damn happy that it almost seemed cruel to burst her beautiful bubble. But it was even crueler to let her believe that Jess would actually walk in the door.

No wonder she’d handled the change so well. She’d never truly accepted that Jess wasn’t coming back.

Words failed me. No matter what I said to her, it was going to hurt, and she’d been hurt so damn much that I wasn’t sure I could inflict another wound. But maybe that was really the heart of parenting, teaching her truth while doing the least amount of damage possible.

I set her on the floor and then dropped to my knees before her.

“Hannah, she’s not coming. I wish she was, baby. I do. And you are the best daughter ever to have done this for her, but she’s not going to be here.” I said it as softly, as carefully as possible, hoping she heard the truth in my voice, that I wouldn’t have to say it again.

Her brow puckered. “It’s mother’s day. I’m her little girl. She’ll come.”

My heart shattered at her certainty—her faith.

“Honey, I wish that were true, but even I don’t know where she is.” It had been two months, and still no news. “I would give anything to not hurt you. To not say this to you. She’s not coming.”

“You don’t know that!” she screamed. “You don’t know anything! She loves me!”

Her rage was finally coming to the surface, and I couldn’t blame her. I was only surprised it had taken this long to happen.

“She does love you. You are the best thing about her whole life, Hannah. Never think anything else. And I bet she misses you so much. But she left you with me because she knew she couldn’t take care of you. Baby, I don’t think that’s going to change.”

“She’ll come back! She always comes back! You’ll see! I even made her a present at school last week. She’ll show up!” Her little body shook with anger as her clenched fists tortured the fabric of her dress.

“Hannah—”

“No! Stop! She’ll show you. She said when she left me that I might stay with you, but that she’d always be my mommy. It’s Mother’s Day, and she’ll be here!”

Her logic was sound.

Her trust was simply placed in the wrong person.

And there was nothing I could do that would gently break that trust. No matter what, the minute the truth hit her, it would shred her, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t soften it. I couldn't protect her from it.

I had to let it happen because there was simply no other alternative.

“Okay,” I said gently. “If this is what you truly believe—”

“It is,” she declared, putting her trembling chin in the air.

“Then how about I order brunch from Nine’s for delivery, so you can have sparkle juice.”

“And we’ll wait here for Mommy?” She started to settle down.

“We’ll wait as long as you want to, and as long as you know that I don’t think she’ll come, but I’m willing to be with you, to wait with you, because I want you to be right, ok, Banana?”

Her little chest heaved once, and she wiped a hand under her nose as she nodded with a sniff. “She’ll come,” she said over my head.

I’d almost forgotten Ivy was standing behind me.

“I hope she does, Hannah,” Ivy answered, her voice kind, but soaked in sadness.

Hannah nodded, then turned away from me, climbing into her seat and folding her arms. She really was going to sit there and wait.

I’d never hated my sister more than at this moment.

Two hours later, Hannah sipped her sparkle juice and had demolished her banana-stuffed French toast, but she refused to remove the milk or cereal from the table.

I sat next to Ivy on the steps, watching Hannah as she looked out the window.

“I don’t know what to say to her.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can.” Ivy took my hand, and I felt a little less...alone. “And I don’t think it’s about saying anything as much as it is just being here.”

She was right. Every once in a while, Hannah looked back at me for a second, like she was making sure I hadn’t left. Then she went right back to staring out the window.

I made her mac and cheese, one of her favorites, for lunch, but the bowl still sat untouched by two pm.

By three, she’d told me that she hated me, and it was my fault for moving, that I’d made it so Jess couldn’t find us. I calmly told her that I’d left our forwarding information at the front desk of my old apartment building, but it was okay if she hated me.

Right now, I hated me, too.

By four, her pretty braids were fraying from rubbing her head against the chair back.

By five, every game we’d tried to engage her in had failed.

By six, she refused pizza for dinner, even when I’d ordered from the place she always begged me for and got the pineapple she loved.

By seven, it was time for her bath, but I wasn’t sure I had the heart to tell her that the day was over. To take away the last shred of hope in her heart.

But I was now her parent—or the closest thing she had to one.

“Hannah, love. It’s time for your bath,” I told her gently. “But we’ll be able to hear the doorbell upstairs, ok? You can come right back down afterward.”

She turned her head slightly but didn’t look at me.

Instead, she slid down from the chair and walked past me soundlessly. I followed her up the stairs, my hand squeezing Ivy’s so tight I thought I might have cut off her circulation.

Hannah tore at her dress as soon as she got to her bathroom, popping the highest button off.

“Do you want me to help get your braids out?” Ivy asked.

Hannah stilled, then nodded.

Ivy nodded toward the door, and I took the hint, leaving the girls alone. Then I leaned against the wall just outside the door.

The water started.

“I know it’s not the same,” Ivy said gently. “But my mommy died when I was about your age, and Mother’s Day was always really tough because I missed her so much.” She paused, but Hannah didn’t reply. “So Pepper and I played a kind of game every Mother’s Day. We would sit in our rooms, right before bed, and we would tell each other everything we wanted to tell our mom, everything we would say if she walked in the door.”

My head hit the wall, imagining what it must have been like for them to lose their mother so long.

“And it helped, but it didn’t make me miss her less.”

I heard the sounds of Hannah getting into the tub as Ivy shut the water off.

“You know, I still miss her hands. She had these long, beautiful fingers that were perfect for piano, and her nails were always so pretty, and round. She had this laugh that felt like Christmas morning and the best hugs. I really miss her hugs.”

“But she left you.”

That tiny voice sent me sliding down the wall until my ass hit the ground.

“Yeah, she did, but I still love her. It’s okay to love the people who leave you. It just means you have a really big heart.”

The sounds of bathtime filled the hallway, but I didn’t budge.

“I like my mama’s fingernails. They’re usually pink, or purple, and always shiny. I like how she would paint mine, too.”

“I bet they are the best, shiniest nails ever,” Ivy agreed.

“I would tell her about the new house, and my sparkle wall, and the hockey games, and Jenny—she lives next door and goes to my school. And I would tell her about our pool, and how I have all my art supplies lined up by color.”

“Those are all great things,” Ivy told her.

I heard splashing sounds like she was getting out.

“And I would tell her about you,” Hannah said quietly.

“I would tell my mom about you, too, Hannah. You and your Uncle Connor.”

Fuck. I loved her. I wasn’t falling; I had fallen, period. Gone.

Hannah padded out of the bathroom, wrapped in a giant, fluffy towel.

Her big green eyes met mine, and she swallowed. “Will you put me to bed?” she whispered.

I almost fucking cried, but it wasn’t what she needed. “Yeah, of course, I will.”

I stood, gathered her into my arms and walked the short distance to her room. Once she was in her jammies, teeth brushed and hair cared for, she climbed into her bed.

The edge gave a little as I sat beside her. “I love you, you know that, right?”

She nodded. “I don’t hate you. That was mean.”

I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Sometimes we say mean things when our hearts hurt. Thank you for apologizing. I knew you didn’t really hate me.”

She looked up at me, and her eyes shone, then filled, then overflowed, giant tears falling down her cheeks.

“I just. I thought she’d come. She didn’t. She’s not coming is she? Ever?”

My throat tightened, and it was a few moments before I could get a sound out.

“I don’t know about ever,” I told her as I brushed her tears away. “But I know that this is your home. This will always be your home. I will always be here. I will never leave you. Not ever. Do you understand?”

How could she? I was a grown man, and I still couldn’t comprehend what my sister had done.

She nodded as a flood of tears took her over, shaking her little body. They weren’t the little tiny tears of anger or tantrums. These were gut-wrenching, life-altering.

I laid down next to her and wrapped her in my arms, letting her cry all she wanted. I couldn’t blame her. It hurt like hell to have your faith ripped from your soul.

“I will never leave you,” I promised her over and over.

And long after she fell asleep, I lay with her, curled around her little frame, and made one more promise, this one to myself.

I would protect her from the possibility of this ever happening to her again.