Mine.
Five years of my daughter’s life. Holding her as a baby, watching her first steps, hearing her first words. Five years I’d never get back.
“Why?” The word tore from my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She laughed, a bitter, sharp sound. “You left without a number. You never even told me your last name or what city you lived in. You were a playboy who wanted no strings. Take your pick.”
The accusation hit its mark.
“Damn it.” I scrubbed my hand over my face as my anger warred with guilt. I’d walked away and left her no way to contact me. “Do you know how hard I looked for you? I called every hotel, I?—”
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” Her words dismissed me, but her eyes widened slightly. A crack in her armor. “You missed the hard parts. You don’t get to swoop in for the highlight reel.”
“Forget the highlights. I want the whole damn movie.” I stepped closer, crowding her space, needing her to feel the weight of my regret. “I never wanted to leave, Ava. I got scared. I was a coward. But I’m not running now.”
“It’s too late.” She leveled a glare at me. “Stay away from Maisie. Don’t confuse her. You’re Uncle Luke’s friend. That’s all.”
She pushed past me, and I let her. For now. She was protecting our daughter with a fierceness I admired.
Not because I agreed she needed protecting from me. But because for the first time in my life, I had something worth fighting a war for. And I wasn't going to win it in a hallway.
The rehearsal and dinner that followed dragged on forever. My gaze eagerly sought both Ava and Maisie out, drinking in every move, every sound. A grin spread over my face as Maisie raced down the pretend aisle and threw imaginary flower petals at everyone like it was a sport.
I looked at Ava, and our eyes met. For a split second, the years vanished. She smiled at me—that same shy, sunrise smile from the club—before her walls slammed back up. But I’d seen it. The door wasn’t locked, just rusted shut.
I also saw Ava watch our daughter with so much love on her face that it actually made my heart ache. One thing I didn’t have to doubt: Maisie was well-loved.
Luke pulled me aside at the end of dinner. He tucked us into a corner and put his hand on my shoulder. “I promised I wouldn’t get involved. But I have to ask. Are you okay?”
“Okay might be a strong word. Shocked is more like it.” I glanced over at Ava, who held a sleepy Maisie on her lap. I wanted more than anything to go over to them, but I didn’t have that right yet. “God, Luke. I have a daughter. I want to tell everyone she’s mine, but I can’t.”
He squeezed his hand. “Give Ava some time. She’s had to get used to doing things on her own. We help when we can, but we can’t be there every day.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “I’m glad they had you guys. I hate to think of them without help.”
“It doesn’t make up for not being there, but Ava’s whole family rallied around her. She wasn’t alone.”
“I don’t know how to do this, Luke. My father thought parenting was writing a check to a nanny. What if I’m just like him?”
“You’re not.” He shook his head. “You’re the guy who walked away from all of that. Hell, you built my sister a crib for her baby. And refused to even let me pay for materials.”
I shrugged it off. “It’s what Gramps would have done.”
My maternal grandfather was the only positive adult role model I’d had. Without him and Luke in my life, I might never have left the city.
Escaping my old life wasn’t the same as defeating it, though. The shadow of my family’s expectations still hung over me, and sometimes, the urge to stop fighting was strong.
But I wanted to be the father Maisie deserved. I wanted to fight.
I couldn’t demand Ava let me into their lives. I needed to earn her trust and show her I was no longer the city playboy shemet six years ago. She needed to believe I wouldn’t walk away again.
I didn’t want to waste any more time. But I forced myself to wait for the group breakfast the next morning, hoping she’d be more receptive to hearing me out.
When I saw her slip away from the table, leaving Maisie with Becky, I followed a few minutes later. I waited outside the room, my heart thudding so loud I was sure everyone in the building must hear it. Ava exited the bathroom, slowing when she saw me.
“Please, Ava. Just give me a minute,” I said as she approached. Her gaze darted over my shoulder, but I’d closed the door to the private dining room. I didn’t want anyone overhearing us. “You don’t trust me, and I can’t blame you. But I’m not the same man from six years ago. At least, I’m trying not to be.”
“Cole—”
