And heard her say again, You’re not enough for me.
He was still trying to find his breath after that one. He knew how it felt to be accepted on condition, better than she realized. The gold standard for approval in his childhood had been a mastery over his emotions. Tears were weakness, passion vulgar. He should only go after things that made sense, that benefited the family, not what he wanted.
Do you love me?
He didn’t know how. That was the bitter truth.
He would give Poppy nearly anything she asked for, but he refused to say words to her that weren’t sincere. How the hell would he know one way or the other if what he felt was love, though? He hadn’t had any exposure to that elusive emotion, not until his brother had gone off the rails with Sorcha, causing his parents to shrink in horror, further reinforcing to Rico that deep emotions prompted destructive madness.
Love had killed Faustina, for God’s sake.
He hated himself for hurting Poppy, though. For failing her. The sick ache sat inside him as he went out and looked for her. She wasn’t on a lounger under the cabana with the nanny, watching Lily play in a shaded pocket of sand.
He moved to stand near them, scanning for Poppy, figuring she would turn up here eventually.
It took him a moment to locate her, walking in the wet sand where waves washed ashore and retreated. Was she crying? She looked so desolate on that empty stretch so far from the cheerful crowd of the resort beach.
She wasn’t a burden. It killed him that her parents had let her grow up feeling anything less than precious. She brought light into darkness, laughter into sober rooms.
She had brought him Lily—literally life. He glanced at his daughter. She was batting down each of the castles the nanny made for her. The most enormous well-being filled him whenever he was anywhere near this little sprite. Poppy shone like the sun when she was with Lily, clearly the happiest she could possibly be.
That was why he wanted another baby. He didn’t know how to express what he felt for Poppy except to physically make another of these joy factories. With her. He wanted her to have more love. The best of himself, packaged new and flawless, without the jagged edges and rusted wheels. Clean, perfect, unconditional love.
From him.
He swallowed, hands in fists as he absorbed that he may not know how to love, how to express it, but it was inside him. He would die for Lily and if Poppy was hurting, he was hurting.
He couldn’t bear that. Not for one more minute.
He looked for her again, intent on going after her.
She had wandered even farther down the beach, past the flags and signage that warned of—
He began jogging after her, to call her back.
Long before he got there, the sea reached with frothy arms that gathered around her legs and dragged her in. One second she was there, the next she was gone.
“Poppy!” he hollered at the top of his lungs and sprinted down the beach.
* * *
One moment she was wading along, waves breaking on her shins. Without warning, the water swirled higher. It dragged with incredible strength against her thighs, eroding the sand fr
om beneath her feet at the same time. The dual force knocked her off-balance and she fell, splooshing under.
It shocked her out of her morose tears, but she knew how to swim. She mostly felt like an idiot, tumbling like a drunk into the surf. As she sputtered to the surface, she glanced around, hoping no one had witnessed her clumsiness.
As she tried to get her feet under her, however, she couldn’t find the bottom. She was in far deeper water than she ought to be. As she gave a little dog paddle to get back toward the beach, she realized she was being sucked away from it. Fast.
Panic struck in a rush of adrenaline. She willed herself not to give in to it. This was a rip current. She only knew one thing about them and that was to swim sideways out of it.
She tried, but the beach was disappearing quickly, making her heart beat even quicker. Her swimsuit wrap was dragging and tangling on her arms. When she tried to call out for help, she caught a mouthful of salt water and was so far away, no one would hear her anyway.
Terrified, she flipped onto her back, floating and kicking, trying to get her bearings while she wrestled herself free of the wrap and caught her breath.
Think, think, think.
Oh, dear God. She popped straight and the people were just the size of ants. Had anyone even noticed she’d been swept out? She looked for a boat. Were there sharks? Don’t panic.