I do not own Gallagher Girls.
.Promise Me, I Promise.
"Daddy?"
Her voice was soft and gentle.
I turned around, and my knees buckled. I bent down to her, my hands reaching out to stroke her hair, her face, anything to erase that painful scrunch of her eyebrows and wobbling lower lip.
"Don't go," she pleaded. Her large, sapphire eyes -- so like my own -- were shining with unshed tears and the breeze danced with her brunette locks like a playful partner in crime. I wanted so badly to give in, let the tsunami of her wishes crash over and drown me in a sweet oblivion.
"I have to, Cam," I murmured. "But I'll be back. I always come back, don't I?"
She nodded her head, clutching my sleeves tighter. "There's a first for everything, Daddy," she moaned, burying her little head in my shirt and soaking it with tears. It was almost painful how aware she was; how her innocence could be so easily tainted by such fears.
I slid my fingers through her hair, soothing my daughter. Her sniffles quieted and she raised her head to meet my eyes with a fiery determination. "Promise again, Daddy," she demanded. "Promise you'll always come back."
So I did. "I promise I'll always come back."
I held her for the last time, whispers of dreams and promises escaping my lips as she stepped back to her mother, who surveyed me with a masked, grave look. We had already said our goodbyes.
I stepped onto the plane.
And I didn't come back.