I wanted nothing more than to stay home, curled up in bed with Queen, but life refused to grant me that comfort. My body ached in ways I couldn't explain, I was tired for absolutely no reason but I had to push forward. Victor had called for a meeting, and I still had to take Queen to see her grandfather.
Richard still wasn't home. Two months. His calls had dwindled to twice a week, his voice growing more distant with each conversation. I told myself I was fine. That I didn't need him. That his absence was a blessing in disguise.
But deep down, I missed him. God help me, I missed him.
No matter how much he had hurt me, no matter how many nights I had spent lying awake, trying to erase his memory from my heart, I still wanted him here. I still needed him. Not for myself only, but for Queen. She deserved more than a father who existed only through phone calls. She needed to see him, to know him, to grow up with him present.
