Page 9 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

Ineed to get the hell out of here.

It’s hard enough for me to be at hospitals, but this was too much. I couldn’t stand in that room a second longer. And when the doctor came in smiling and happily confirmed that Eli has a daughter—I just couldn’t be there watching it all snap firmly into place.

He doesn’t need me there. Sutton, Lainey, and Rem can handle it. Then his mom and sisters will swoop in, and he will have plenty of support. I am on the periphery, like I’m used to being, and it’s where I will stay.

I’m not his friend. I am close to his friends because they are mine too, but that does not mean I need to get close to him.

It’s a blur getting back home to the cabin, a drive that was robotic and numb, automatic motions I made to get here that I don’t really remember. I fumble with the lock on my side door, go into the kitchen, and slip off my shoes. My phone alarm blasts, startling me, reminding me it’s time to take my nightly meds.

Shit.

I make my way up to my room, go to my bathroom, open my very tidy medicine cabinet, and take all my pills—which are also extensively organized. Color coded, sorted by days of the week, premade little squares that I set up in advance. A ritual that makes me feel like I have some kind of say over any of this.

I gulp down the water from the waiting cup on the counter, wash my hands, and look up to the mirror. My eyes shine with unshed tears and my bottom lip starts to tremble. I can’t hold it in any longer.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

I am pretty sure that is my heart, shattering all over my bathroom floor as I collapse in a mess of tears and emotions. My phone is pinging with texts, probably from the girls, but I ignore it. I can’t do anything but lay here and try to remember how to breathe.

8

Eli

“So I really get to take her home?” I ask the social worker, Bonnie, sitting in the hospital room with me.

“Yes,” she chuckles. “You are her father, Eli. It’s proven with the DNA test. You’ll have to go to court to be legally placed on the official birth certificate. The state generated one for her today, like they do for these cases. Usually it’s based off a lot of assumptions and measurements, but we have more information than normal. We know for sure the day she was born, and instead of giving her a placeholder name for a foster care situation, you can decide what you want her name to be—other than Baby Girl Hargrove of course. The judge will make it all official once things are finalized. There are a few other things we have to deal with like a home visit, most likely from me. But for now, we are going to sign all this paperwork and you’re being granted custody of your daughter.”

“What about her mother?” I ask, worried.

“When she placed your daughter in the Safe Haven box, she gave up her rights essentially. Most babies placed in those safe spaces are sent to foster care, adopted after the approval and appropriate amount of wait time passes if a biological parent or relative doesn’t come forward, but honestly very few are reunited with the parent that gave them up. Also, we have the letter she left, giving you a strong legal case for sole custody if she ever shows up again. She expressed that she doesn’t want your daughter and believes you are the best fit for the child.” Her kind face warms. Eyes with years of experience and some pain glance at the baby I’m feeding.

“I just don’t want her to be taken from me,” I admit quietly.

Now that I know for sure she’s mine, I feel so deeply protective. Whenever someone steps into the room, I pull her tighter to my chest, shielding her from so far what has only been warmth and kindness. But what happens when it’s not?

“I can tell she is already in very good care, Eli. It’s going to be okay. I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but please know that I’m on your side. My job is to keep you two together to the best of my ability, not split you apart.” Bonnie pats my knee. “That sweet girl, I can see, is already well on her way in this world with you and the support you have.”

“Thanks, Bonnie,” I say with a smile.

Sutton thought of everything. I have no idea what I would do without her, Lainey, and Rem. While I was dealing with everything at the hospital, they installed Sutton’s extra car seat base in my truck, brought the newborn things to my apartment, and set it all up.

“You’re doing great,” Sutton says from the back seat of my truck next to the baby girl.

“This is the most terrifying drive of my fucking life,” I mumble. “Are drivers always this stupid?” I ask her, white-knuckling the steering wheel as I drive in the dark streets of our suddenly treacherous town.

“Yes, and you also feel that way because of this precious little cargo. Don’t worry, it gets a little easier.” Her eyes are shining with love as she looks down at the car seat when I check back at them in the rearview mirror.

Finally, I pull into my usual parking spot behind the sewing shop, Bobbin’s, on Main Street. I rent the apartment above it and have called it home for years. It fits my bachelor life perfectly.

Fit. That life is long gone now. Time to grow the fuck up.

I help Sutton out of the car, and she grabs the diaper bag that she brought to the hospital for me and the extra diapers and formula they gave us when we left. Rem and Lainey are waiting at the top of the metal stairs that lead up the back of the building to my place, big smiles on both of their faces. I carefully unclip the bucket car seat and follow Sutton, terrified I am going to slip on these hellish stairs that have never been a problem before and drop my daughter off the side into the night.

My daughter.

Fuck.

I am solely responsible for her care and safety.