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Noelle turned to him then, meeting his eyes. “I was going to email you so many times, Evan. I was.” She glanced away. “But then ... Iwould feel so afraid. Even more scared than I felt just knowing I was pregnant and alone. The thought of seeing you again ... I don’t know, it almost felt like ...”
“Like you’d be traveling backward emotionally.”
She nodded, her heart swelling. He’d been kind to provide that language for her when she was having a hard time finding it herself, and she appreciated it so much. Of course he’d understand that. Maybe he’d thought of her, too, now and again, and maybe he’d felt the same when he had. Maybe each time he pictured her, he saw her in that cage, just like that night in the hotel room. The night they’d made Callie.
“Yes. Only now, it wasn’t only me I was thinking of. I was thinking of you, too, Evan. I really was. I thought about dragging you away from your life again—the one I hoped you were living well. What would it be like for you if you were just finding solid footing, and suddenly you’d have to figure out how to be a dad? We’d already decided that it was in both of our best interests to part ways. And I think we’re probably both better for that,” she finished softly.
His shoulders rose and fell, and he scratched his temple. He still looked confused and slightly angry. But mostly hurt. “Is she better off? Callie?”
It was a fair question and a complicated answer. “She’s remarkable. She’s smart and she’s empathetic. She’s happy, Evan.” But she’d never known a father, and if she didn’t miss that now, she would eventually.
“Who does she think her father is? Does she think he’s some guy who just abandoned you? And her? Jesus, Noelle.” He took a few steps, turning halfway away from her.
“I simply told her it didn’t work out between her father and me. She’s not even seven. She hasn’t asked a lot of in-depth questions.”
“And when she starts to? What then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’d tell her the truth. I hadn’t gotten that far.”
He swore. It was mostly under his breath, but she caught it. He turned back to her so suddenly she almost took a step back. “You robbedme,” he said. “You robbed me of her, of deciding whether or not I was capable of being a father. You took something else from me after all the things that had already been taken. And what really kills me more than anything is that of all people, ofallpeople, Noelle, you should have known what that would do to me. That I’d already lost enough.”
Regret washed through her, icy and bitter. God, when he put it that way, she felt so ashamed. She knew he had every right to feel the way he did and that his judgment of her was perfectly justified. And even still ... she couldn’t quite bring herself to say that she’d change it if she could. Her life wasn’t perfect by any stretch. Sometimes she was lonely. And though she hadn’t come up with any specific plan, sometimes she did worry about the questions Callie would ask when she got older and wasn’t as easily distracted by ice cream and seashells and any of her other joyful pleasures. But Noelle was at peace. She felt healed. She could think about what had happened to her without breaking out in a cold sweat. She could catch sight of an ice pick or a length of rope or even a pair of red shoes without losing it. And she could set her thoughts and memories aside, if she preferred not to dwell there, even for a moment.Shewas in control. And it’d been a long, hard battle, but she’d won. So perhaps she’d been selfish. But maybe not, because healing meant that she was the mother Callie needed her to be.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she told him. “I’m sorry for keeping her from you, and you from her. I can’t go back, Evan. I can’t change it.”
He studied her for a second, finally sighing and giving his head a shake. “We were partners,” he said. “Once, we were. We worked together during the most horrific circumstances imaginable. For God’s sake, we would have been able to handle an accidental pregnancy together too.” Despite the accusation in his words, his tone had softened, his anger obviously having faded, at least a little.
“Yes. Of course we would have managed. At the time ... I decided we both needed more than just managing.”
“You decided that without me.”
“Yes, I did.”
“That wasn’t fair.”
“I ... I know.”
“Do you?” She could see he’d asked it rhetorically, so she didn’t answer. He squinted off behind her for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “I’d like to spend some time with her.”
Her stomach squeezed. She felt momentarily defensive. But he hadn’t threatened her. He’d merely asked to spend some time with his daughter. “Okay.”
His eyes moved over her features before he gave a slight nod. “I won’t demand anything of you, Noelle. I know you’ve been doing this on your own for a long time, and she’s obviously living a good life. I just ... well, I’d just like a chance to ...”
“Yes,” she said, rescuing him as he’d rescued her. He didn’t know what to say either. He’d been even less prepared for this than her. “Of course. Tomorrow night the turtles make their journey to the shore. There’s a big gathering on the beach. Callie’s been looking forward to it for weeks.”
“I’d love to be there.” There was a bit of an awkward silence before he said, “I guess I’ll get a hotel room nearby.”
“We have a vacant cottage,” Noelle said. “You’re welcome to stay there.”
“Okay. Yeah.” He looked back over her shoulder again in the direction of the property. “That would be great.”
She nodded. “And I know you’re here for a reason,” she said. “We can talk about that after Callie goes to bed tomorrow.”
He ran his hand through his hair, her words causing a wrinkle to form between his brows. “Right. Yes. We’ll talk then.”
The sun dipped farther, and the last two people who’d been sitting on the beach a little way down the shore stood, packing up their things. “I should get home,” Noelle said. Callie would be back from her bike ride by now, likely stuffed on ice cream. Getting her to bed would be achore and a half. Despite the thought, her heart warmed, and she felt the pull toward her child. “Come with me,” she said, turning toward the wooden bridge that connected the beach to Chantilly’s property. “I’ll show you to your cottage.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’m pretty wiped.”
