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Ellie continues to talk his ear off until we're done, you name it, she talked about it. Her mouth moving a mile a minute. I advise her to go to her room and pick her outfit for tomorrow, so she hops down the hallway of our two-bedroom house to her room. Jameson's eyes still remain glued to her, his suspicions basically radiating off of him.
"So, It's good that you are back. I'm sure Judson is glad."
"Yeah," he shakes his head, taking a seat on the couch. His eyes are fixated on the picture frame on the end table next to him. For a minute, I think he's going to speak, but instead, he picks the picture up, examining it closely.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" I ask, his eyes leaving the picture to find mine.
"Actually, I just wanted to come by and make sure that everything was alright between us. I know when I left, things weren't great."
I feel a sudden wave of relief, "Yeah, we're okay."
"Ellison James, huh?" He asks, his hands fidgeting uncomfortably in his lap.
"Yep." I don't offer up any more information than that, his question lingering on his lips.
"Is she mine?" He whispers, his voice nearly breaking.
"No, Jameson, she's mine. She's always been mine."
He adjusts himself on the couch, knowing that my answer doesn't confirm nor deny his question.
"Is Ellie biologically my child?" He rephrases his question, his voice still a whisper.
"Jameson, please…" I beg, not wanting to hurt Ellie, to open her up to the possibility of a father, knowing it can't happen.
"Hanna, just answer it. I need to know. There's no way I can fly tomorrow with this on my mind."
The desperation in his voice makes me feel sorry for him, almost.
"Ellie shares your DNA, but that doesn't change anything, Jameson. I know that, and so do you."
He shifts in the chair, his hands finding his face, dragging down his cheeks.
I never thought I'd have to deal with this. I thought he'd stay away and fly his planes, and that would be the end of it, but now he's here in my living room, and my daughter is in the next room.
"Does she know?" He asks, nodding toward Ellie's bedroom.
"Of course not. It's always been just us, she's asked a few times, but I've always told her that her daddy had to be away."
His voice turns colder. It's a more familiar voice, one that has haunted my dreams for years. "How could you keep this from me? For five fucking years, Hanna?"
"What would've been different, Jameson? If you knew?"
He lets out an aggravated laugh, "I could've helped you. I could've been there."
"Why? So you could've found some reason to push us both away? I had to let you go, Jameson. We were toxic, and it was no environment to raise a baby in."
"Is that what your mother told you?" He snaps, standing up, pacing around the living room, still trying to whisper.
"No, it's what I figured out all by myself."
"That's fucking bullshit, Hanna, and you know it."
His words make me crazy, calling me the one person I'd never want to be. I react before I can stop myself.
"Listen to us!" I huff, blowing out an irritated growl. "I never wanted this for Ellie."
He paces frantically, his eyes glassed over with tears.
"You should go," I demand, standing to usher him to the front door.
"We need to talk about this," He pleads, his jaw clenching so tight I would swear he was ready to break someone in half.
"Yeah, maybe we do. Not now, though, not with Ellie here."
He shakes his head, walking back to Ellie's room, "Bye Ellie, thanks for breakfast."
"You're welcome," She smiles, her arms wrapping around his waist. His eyes screaming that he's sorry, just exactly like they always did.
