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“I need to tell you something.”
I glance at him, because he took the words out of my mouth. The expression on his face scares me so much, that for a moment I forget about my own problems. Something is seriously wrong.
“What is it?” I ask, frowning at him. My heart races as I run through all the worst possible scenarios in my head.
“I don’t even know how to tell you…” He shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “This whole thing is a mess.”
“What is?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
I reach for his hand and wrap my fingers around his. He’s so tense and he won’t look at me. It’s like he’s in shock.
“I just found out… something.” He takes a deep breath. “How am I supposed to tell you this?”
“Just tell me,” I urge him. I’m not sure how much more I can take before I start trying to shake it out of him. Something? What the hell is something?
“I… I have a daughter.”
With that one sentence, my heart stops beating.
My hand slips from his as I stare at him, my whole world stopping for one tiny moment. I hear nothing of the sounds around us, just the beat, beat, beat of my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I breathe in, forcing air into my lungs, because if I don’t actively think about breathing, I’m going to forget and pass out.
He has a daughter?
A child.
I lift my gaze to his, but he still can’t look at me. I shake my head, words completely abandoning me. He’s a father. He has a daughter. I look at the ground, still unable to form a sentence or even think about what this really means.
“What…”
I cough, clearing my throat, and then I try again.
“How… What are you talking about? You have a daughter that you didn’t know about?”
I string enough words together to qualify it as a sentence. He nods absently, as though he’s trying to figure it out too. He stares down at his hands and shakes his head again.
“I had no idea she existed, until today.”
“How?” I ask.
“It was after my dad died,” he begins. “I met Maya in London. She was there from Germany, with her sister, Abbey. We spent three weeks together, which was apparently long enough for me to father a child.” He laughs bitterly and leans his head back against the wall, staring up at the dark sky.
“And she never told you? How did you find out about her?” I ask. “That must make her, what, nine?”
“She’s eight. Abbey came in to the hospital today. She’d been looking for me since…” He glances at me. “And yes, she never told me. Maya died in a car crash six months ago. Her parents were killed too. That poor kid has nobody other than her aunt.”
“And you,” I whisper.
“And me.” He shakes his head and laughs bitterly. “God, I can’t even fathom what she must think of me. She must hate me for not being there for her.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him, as my hand tightens around his. He glances at me and forces out a small smile.
“I’m so sorry to spring all of this on you. And like this? I didn’t know whether to tell or not…” He closes his eyes and breathes out heavily. “At least until I had time to process it myself, but I didn’t want to keep something so major from you.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I say. His words slice through my heart. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”
“The biggest struggle is feeling like I’ve failed her. All this time, she was there, and I never knew.” He lets out a growl. “My first reaction was anger. I was so, so angry at Maya for keeping her from me. I mean, how messed up is that? How can I be angry at a dead woman?” He laughs.
“Do you know why she didn’t tell you?” I ask softly.
He shrugs. “Abbey said something about Maya thought it would be easier that way. For everyone. But how was it easier for that little girl to think that her father didn’t care about her? How was that easier for me?” He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m such a mess.” He glances at me. “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
I wrap my arms around him and hug him, while trying to process it all. We sit on the balcony, neither of us saying anything. At one point, I think I fall asleep, and then I wake up and remember… he has a child. This is such a nightmare. I can’t let myself think about what this means for us, because if I do that, I’ll lose my grip on everything.
“We should go inside.” He stands up and extends his hand, helping me to my feet.
