Page 6 of Blissful Devotion

“Can we make cookies?” Addison asks after only eating four or five bites and pushing her bowl away.

The protective father in me wants to tell her she needs to eat more so she can stay strong, but I also understand that with everything going on right now, it might be too much.

She’s only five after all.

I look to the others, but none of them seem to know.

“I can look up a recipe.” Oliver offers, his fingers flying across the keys of his laptop, which he’s been glued to since we walked in the door.

I nod my thanks, even though he isn’t paying attention to me.

“What kind of cookies, hun?” Alex asks, and, duh, I should probably have thought to ask that.

“The kind mommy makes,” she says, a slight quiver to her voice that breaks my heart.

“Peanut butter, got it.” Oliver turns his computer around with a recipe, and I swear it feels like it’s in another language.

My confusion must show on my face because Oliver chuckles, then stands and moves around the island to grab Addison.

“Let’s find our ingredients. Daddy can start the oven, Uncle Alex can grab the bowls, and Uncle Vinny can grab out some spoons and spatulas.”

For the first time since the accident, Addy smiles. It’s not her usual bright smile, but it’s progress, and while I want nothing more than to hold her close and protect her from everything, I know she’ll be okay.

She’s strong, and we’re here for her, even if that just means making some cookies to help her ease her broken heart.

We just need to make sure she gets her mommy back.

The cookies are a disaster.

I’ve never seen such ugly things, and I’ve never seen the kitchen messier, but Addison loves them—well, the ones that aren’t burned to a crisp, that is.

“Try this one, Daddy. It’s perfect.” She holds out a cookie, one of the few we made at the end that actually looks like a cookie, for me to try a bite of.

Who knew making cookies was so hard? I can’t imagine how difficult half the recipes Kat makes are. She’s too good for us.

I take a small bite, not wanting to steal it from her, but it's enough. It’s much better than the one I tried before this, which was mostly burnt.

“Delicious. You did a great job, Princess.”

I pat her head, and she beams at me before shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth all at once. I bite back the urge to scold her, instead giving her a look that says it all.

“Do you think Mommy would be proud?”

“Very.”

The day is long, and while we do our best to stay strong for Addy, it’s hard when she doesn’t understand, and there’s no way to make her understand.

Not that we would ever want her to.

There’s no shortage of people who might want to do something like this, but the list of those capable or crazy enough…

Before now, I’d have thought it nonexistent.

I’d underestimated someone, a mistake I’ll never make again.

It’s not until later, after we’d taken turns reading to Addy and handled more than a few tears to get her to sleep, that we finally hear from Des.

“Des—”