Page 61 of His Fake Fiancé

“Yeah, b-but that’s different.” He had no idea what he was saying. Words were just falling out of his mouth. “Your m-mom died. That’s n-n-not the same thing.”

She shook her head. “But don’t you see, Jake? It doesn’t matter. And it’s not fair to Olivia.”

He pushed to his feet, the sudden need to move overwhelming. “You c-can’t be s-s-serious.” His voice rose with his agitation. He plowed his hand through his hair and started to pace. The guest house was small, so it was only a couple of strides before he was forced to turn around and head the other way. It didn’t matter because he just needed to do something. “So, you w-want me to l-l-lose my daughter because you h-have m-m-mommy issues? You’re not her m-mother, Claire, so you don’t g-get a say in the matter.”

It was a low blow. He knew it, as soon as the words left his mouth. He wanted to take them back so badly, but it was too late. It was done.

He stopped and looked at her. She’d gone stiff, her entire body turned to stone. The stricken look on her face gutted him.

“I’m s-sorry.” He stepped toward her, hoping to make it better, although how, he wasn’t sure. “I d-didn’t m-mean—”

She leaped to her feet, ducking out of the way so he couldn’t touch her. “It’s fine,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. Her shoulders were bent in. It looked like she was protecting herself from a physical blow. But he, of all people, knew how much words often hurt way worse than actually being hit.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, her voice raspy and sad. “I promised Jamie I’d come over to the house for dinner. It’s her and Brock’s anniversary, so she’s making something special.”

Without waiting for him to say anything more assholey, she turned and practically ran out the door.

He wanted to go after her, tell her he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it. That he was an asshole of the highest order and could she please, please, please forgive him. Not that he deserved it. But Claire was a good person, and she had to see he didn’t really mean it. Right?

Olivia made a grunting noise. The kind that said a diaper change was in both their futures. She made an uncomfortable little whine and then started to cry.

Jake turned toward the pack and play and picked up the very fussy, and very stinky, baby. He walked to her room, the baby protesting the whole way. She was clearly tired and cranky. He could totally relate. A nap definitely wouldn’t go amiss right now.

He plonked her on the changing table and she squawked, sucking in a breath and getting ready to wail.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” He rubbed her back with one hand and grabbed a new diaper with the other. It only took a couple of minutes for him to change her, and get her into a sleeper. Much better than the first time, when they’d moved in here a couple of weeks ago.

She yawned—one of those big, jaw cracking ones—and then flapped her arms.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, scooping her up and settling into the rocking chair. “I know you’re trying to distract yourself, keep yourself awake. But, I promise, you’ll feel much better once you have a sleep.”

She fussed and squirmed for a second, but he pressed her against his chest and she settled down. The weight and warmth of her against him was so natural now, so expected. He couldn’t remember what it was like to not feel her little body nestled against his. He’d wasted so much time. Months of her life where he’d been an indifferent idiot that he’d never get back.

Months that Gina will never get back, either.

Shame and guilt, that same combination he’d felt when he saw Gina at the courthouse a couple of weeks ago, welled up inside him again. Was Claire right? Was he doing the wrong thing? He didn’t know anything about the mother-daughter dynamic, but if it was anything like the father and son relationship… Well, he didn’t want to deprive his daughter of something so important. And he knew, deep down, it was super important, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

But it wasn’t like this had been his choice. Gina was the one who’d left Olivia at his front door and disappeared. She was the one who’d given Olivia up. Voluntarily. It wasn’t his or Olivia’s fault that she was feeling guilty, or having second thoughts, or whatever.

How would you feel if you lost custody of Olivia?

The pain inside him at just the thought was like having his internal organs scraped out with a butter knife. Was this how Gina felt, not being able to see Olivia every day? Not being able to be there when her daughter cried, or laughed, or just sat there looking so stinking cute, you could barely breathe? Because just the idea was enough to tear him in half. That Gina was living it…

No, no. He couldn’t think like that. Just the idea made him ache for her. Ache for Olivia and what she could be missing out on. But, he’d just found his daughter—truly found her, and yes, he realized that was his own fault—but he couldn’t lose her now. He just couldn’t.

Olivia popped her thumb into her mouth and laid her head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and rocked them back and forth. It only took a minute or so for her to fall asleep, but he didn’t stop rocking. Just held her and swayed, enjoying the moment. Let the quiet and peacefulness soothe his frayed nerves, his battered soul.

He rubbed Olivia’s back, the back of his eyes burning. There was a part of him that was afraid he might not get too many more opportunities like this. And that, more than anything, hurt in ways he’d never imagined possible.

A headache throbbed at the base of Claire’s skull. She was bent over the desk at work, trying to reconcile the monthly accounts before they got sent off to the accountant. It was always easier and less costly if she made sure all of the numbers were already accounted for.

Problem was, she was completely distracted, and had been for the last week, ever since the evaluation, and Jake being a huge asshole. She’d spent the last week here at home, refusing to go back to the Callahans. And dammit, she missed Olivia and Jake so much, she felt like a part of her was missing. They’d been playing house for such a short time, and yet, it was so much like the life she’d always dreamed of, she got caught up in the fantasy.

She was such a fool.

Jake had texted her a couple of times, asking if she was okay and when she was coming back to the guest house. Because she wasn’t an asshole—unlike him—she’d texted back to let him know she was fine—physically, anyway—and that she just needed a little space. She’d half expected him to charge over here and demand to see her, to talk to her. And there was a small, teeny, tiny part of her that was disappointed when he hadn’t.

She knew he’d been over here, because after about the third day, a bag with her stuff and her guitar case had appeared on the porch. It hadn’t been there when she’d headed over to the office that morning, but was waiting for her when she finished work for the day. He hadn’t left a note or anything, just a picture of Olivia, from that day she’d found them in the bedroom, with the words We Miss You written on the back.