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And while regret plays a massive part in my conflicted emotions toward Morgan, I’m then torn every second I stare into the eyes of this beautiful child we created. I still recall the moment she was born, how nothing else in my life made me complete. How I vowed to be her father, a protector, a man she could always rely on. My own father’s absence made me all the more aware of the role I needed to fulfill in my daughter’s life.

But now, the one paying the highest price is Jessa. Her world has been torn apart, much of that my fault for allowing Morgan’s controlling nature over our marriage to push me over the edge and into a bigger mistake. The pain was insurmountable, staring at the divorce papers on Christmas Eve. I was alone, left wondering precisely what I’d done wrong or why my child deserved a broken home. The threat of losing Jessa and being alone consumed me and drove me to the pits of darkness with only one way out.

I needed anything to take my mind off it, anything to make me forget my whole world was being taken away from me.

And then came Olivia Hawkins.

I remembered her from our childhood, and the uncanny timing gave it all the more reason as to why we both ended up in the hotel room that night. We were both bleeding from freshly opened but different wounds and the pain of losing someone.

It was supposed to be one night—all sex, no attachment, just the desperate need to control my life inside that hotel room. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. As far as I was concerned, Morgan and I were separated with divorce papers making it even more official.

But the moment after, I realized the biggest mistake I made wasn’t fighting for what Jessa needed. She deserved for her family to stay together, and so, if it meant that I’d give up my beliefs and become the man Morgan needed me to be, then I would.

I still remember the night like it was yesterday.

“Daddy, come say night-night.”

Jessa stood at the top of the stairs, carrying her yellow blanket with bears all over it, the same blanket she dragged across the floor everywhere she went. In her other hand, she held a small stuffed brown fox. It was soft and had these big eyes like it was out of a cartoon, a last-minute purchase when I left Chicago airport three months ago.

I quickly made my way up the stairs, scooped her up in my arms, and balanced the weight of her body and the extra items she carried. Walking toward her room, I saw the nightlight was already on, and her favorite book sat on top of her pillow.

“Daddy, you read to me? Puh-lease?”

I gently placed her down, tucked her in as she got comfortable, and she placed her thumb inside her mouth. As I softly read to her, her eyes began to droop, her long lashes touching her face until her soft snore echoed in the room. I leaned in, kissed her forehead before shutting the door.

The lights were dimmed downstairs in the den, the fireplace running on this rare chilly night.

“Laptop away,” I scolded Morgan.

Morgan was still wearing her work clothes, giving me another excuse, some important email that had to go out right now. “Just one more—”

“Morgan,” I reminded her gently. “C’mon, our therapist said we need to make time for each other when Jessa is asleep.”

She nodded in agreement and shut her laptop with a sigh. “You’re right. Of course. Cheese and wine?”

“How about you naked?” I pulled her body into mine and watched her giggle in my embrace.

“How about I slip into something more comfortable?” she teased.

“How about you slip into nothing?”

She leaned in, kissed my lips, instantly turning me on. I rubbed my body against hers and slid my hand beneath her skirt and along her thighs.

“I’ll be back. Behave.”

She walked out of the room, dropped her heels to the floor, and untucked her blouse as she went. I sat back, a smile on my face as I thought about how lucky we were to be back to where we started—a family.

I had one last chance to save us, and the second that Olivia left my hotel room, I made the call. I saved my marriage.

It was all because of that one night.

It was because of Olivia. The way she allowed me to feel like a man. That’s when I decided to fight for what I wanted—my wife and kid. Perhaps it was Olivia’s raw innocence that made me fight for the overbearing, stubborn woman who committed to me for life.

It was a reminder that I couldn’t go back to the days of being single, where I’d aimlessly sleep with woman after woman. I fell in love with Morgan Bentley and made her my wife. In turn, she made me a father. Giving up was no longer an option.

I sat back, waiting for Morgan, busying myself by checking the latest scores when a text came in. The name popped up—Milkshake Bitch—a joke between Olivia and me from our childhood.

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