I try again, louder this time. “Bri, come on!”
Still no answer.
Irritation sparks in my chest. She knows we have to be out the door in a few minutes. I set the keys on the hall table and head upstairs, my socked feet barely making a sound on the hardwood.
Halfway down the corridor, I notice the bathroom door is shut. I knock lightly. “You okay in there?”
There’s a long pause and then, “I’m fine!”
I know my kid. She’s not fine. That’s her ‘leave me alone before I combust’tone.
“Bri…” My voice softens. “Can I come in?”
“No!” The answer comes fast, almost panicked.
I straighten, my hand still resting against the doorframe. “What’s going on?”
“I—uh—” She stammers, stops, starts again. “Nothing.”
It’s the kind of nothing that screams something.
My mind stumbles for a second, flipping through every possibility until it lands on the one that makes the most sense. And then it hits me.
Oh.
She’s thirteen, wants privacy, and her voice has that edge of discomfort I’ve only heard a few times before.
“Brianna, honey… Do you need me to call Maggie?”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, quieter, “No. It’s okay. I’m fine. We’ve… talked about this before.”
I lean my forehead against the door, eyes shutting for a moment. Guilt presses in hard. In these moments, Bri shouldn’t be on her own, having to be navigated by a dad awkwardly guessing through a closed bathroom door.
I do my best, and we have Maggie, thank God. But she can’t be here all the time to fill in every blank space where her mother should be.
My shoulders tighten. It’s hard not to picture my ex’s face—hard not to imagine her justifying walking away, abandoning herdaughter long before Bri would need her most. My chest heats with anger.
Not now.
I force the tension out of my voice. “All right. You sure you don’t need anything? I can run to the store, grab whatever you?—”
“I’mfine,” Brianna says again.
I wait another moment before saying, “Okay. Just know I’m right here. Always.”
The latch clicks, and the door opens an inch, then another. She steps out, face pink, eyes darting to the floor. My kid, who’s usually all sass and chatter, suddenly looks uncomfortable, embarrassed.
I pull her in for a hug. She fits under my chin perfectly, still small enough that I can wrap her up, still young enough to let me. Her arms tighten around me for a second longer than usual.
I should drop her off at school and head straight to the office. I’ve got that meeting with the team for a big project, the kind of deal most companies dream of locking down. But the rest of the day can wait. My brother and best friend can handle it on their own.
My daughter needs me.
I lean back enough to see her face. “Hey, we’ve got some time before school. How about we swing by that coffee shop we used to go to, grab a snack?”
Her lips twitch in a smile. “I’d love that.”
I’d cancel a dozen meetings just to see that smile.