I’d never forgotten her number. A thousand times over the last near-decade, I’d gone to message or call her, but I always chickened out. Harper had every right to hate me, and I wasn’t entirely sure I would be able to bear that hatred along with my own. A few years had passed, then I just assumed she’d changed it, the way I had.
Still never forgot it, though. It was embedded into my memory.
I wasn’t—and couldn’t be—mad at her for not telling me. She’d been here all along, hell she hadn’t even changed her damn phone number. She’d chosen her future, just as I’d chosen what I thought was my future.
Then I’d fucking stuck to it out of sheer stubbornness, instead of admitting I’d chosen wrong.
The passenger door opened, and I startled, relaxing a little when I realized it was just Connor. She slid inside and closed the door. “You’ve been sitting out here for thirty minutes, Cal. Are you gonna come inside?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said, my jaw tight.
“I take it the visit didn’t go very well?” She asked.
“Right back into my business,” I laughed, shaking my head with mild irritation. I could nevertrulybe mad at her, though, and she knew it.
She smiled. “What else are little sisters for?”
“Nosey little things,” I sighed, falling silent and closing my eyes, ruminating. I was more apt to push my struggles deep down inside and ignore them, not to burden others with them. But this was something that I couldn’t keep buried; this was something I didn’t want to keep buried. “I uh, have a son.”
“What?” Connor exclaimed, aghast. “With Harper?”
“Yeah,” I replied, finally opening my eyes. “He’s almost eight, Connor. His birthday is on April 21st.”
“Wow.” Her eyes had widened comically, her mouth lax with shock. She shook her head, looking back up toward the house. “Wow, wow, wow. That’s…intense.”
“Yeah.” I exhaled.
“So, what now?” she asked, looking at me dead-on. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, pulling my gaze forward, staring blankly ahead with unfocused eyes. I had no clue how to make up for the years I’ve missed.Nine years.The pregnancy. The birth. Everything. How can I possibly make amends?
Harper had been the only woman I’d ever thought seriously about. I remember the first time I thought about having kids with her when we were walking down Hirtle’s Beach. We passed a pregnant woman and her husband, who had paused in taking her photograph to kiss her rounded belly.
We’d stopped, and Harper had offered to take their picture.
I remember watching her while she held the camera in front of her eye, snapping a few photographs of the couple, and for a moment—I’d pictured her with a rounded belly and I realized that prospect wasn’t as terrifying as it should have been. To know that I’d missed the whole thing completely gutted me.
Connor was quiet, watching me with concern. “Why didn’t she tell you sooner?”
I quirked a brow, sending her a sidelong glance. “Because I’m a colossal asshole who left without saying goodbye or leaving a forwarding number?”
She winced, her nose wrinkling. “Right, that might have done it,” she sighed, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Still, she could have come to us. Mom would have—“
“And I could have done a lot of things differently, too.” I snapped, instantly regretting my short tone with her. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s a lot to digest, you know? And I can’t get pissed at her for not tracking me down. She shouldn’t have had to.”
“You’re right. She shouldn’t have had to. You should have come home sooner, but you didn’t.” Connor’s delicate brow raised pointedly. “Are you going to leave still?” she pressed, sighing with relief as I shook my head.
“Leaving now would be the absolute worst thing I could do, and I’d like to think I’m smart enough to learn from past mistakes.”
The disgust I’d always felt toward myself for leaving Harper the way I had was unmeasurable now, so visceral, I couldn’t remove myself—which is exactly why I was still sitting in the car, instead of going up to the house.
“You are,” Connor said softly. Turning my head back, I was confronted by the determination in her green eyes. “Stop punishing yourself. You have an opportunity to get to know your son, don’t squander it because you’re too focused on beating yourself up about the past. Move forward, Cal…not backward.”
I chuckled ruefully, my lips twitching in a reluctant smile. Connor had always been perceptive, even when she was just a kid. Like I said, in a thousand ways—my little sister out-smarted me.
“You’re right.” Sighing, I rested my head against the headrest. “I’m not going to squander it. I can’t walk away again—and I won’t. I just have no fucking clue how to fix it.”
“You fix it by being here, now,” she replied. I nodded, her words lodging into my brain. Her hand moved to the door, and she tilted her head in question. “Are you going to come inside?”
