MAIA
Even knowing Baird was right beside me on the couch, his hand tight in mine, I felt ready to crumble. I loved my dad so much, and his opinion could make or break me right now.
He sat across from me with a pale-faced Grace and I had done my best not to turn into a sobbing mess as I apologized for putting them in this position, that they’d woken up to my dad’s private history plastered across a national tabloid.
Grace had hugged me at the door, but she was upset because Lockie’s school had called to tell her Lockie had been in a fight with someone about the article. Already.
I didn’t want them to feel like they had to comfort me when they were the ones whose lives were blasted all over that paper, so I was trying to hold together the painful sobs that filled my chest.
The very idea of hurting the people I loved most broke me because I never wanted to hurt them the way my mother had hurt me.
Dad rested his elbows on his knees, his hands claspedtogether as he studied me with the violet eyes I was grateful he gave to me. His were always a little harder because of what life had carved out of him, which meant when they softened with love, it was the greatest feeling in the world.
“Did … were you worried about this happening when I told you about the campaign?” My voice shook. “Because I feel so selfish for not considering it more.”
Dad shifted a little in his seat and Grace reached over to squeeze his knee in support. “Maia, I won’t lie and say it didn’t cross my mind. But I will never ask my family to make decisions about their lives because of the choicesImade in mine.Iwent to prison. No one else. It’s not on you that this is something from my past that people can dig up to hurt you. That’s on me.”
My heart lurched. “Dad, no.”
“Aye, Maia. It is. You’re sitting here, looking like I’m going to stop loving you, and that kills me.” His voice was rough. “Because me and your mum did that to you.”
I sobbed. “No, you didn’t. You never did.” It wasn’t Dad’s fault that Mum never told him I existed. As soon as he found out about me, he’d been there for me every day for the past fifteen years.
Baird hugged me into his side.
“I am so sorry that you’ve carried the burden of responsibility on your shoulders for your mum. For me. The choice for Maryanne to get clean had nothing to do with you. It should have. You should have been the reason, but it wasn’t your job to make it happen. I won’t be another parent in your life who puts their choices on your shoulders. I protect you. Not the other way around. Lockie was always going to find out the truth, and he left this house this morning proud of his old man for protecting an aunt he adores. That’s what the fight was about at school, and I would be ahypocrite for punishing him for protecting his family when I’ve done the same.”
Gratitude toward my dad made it hard to speak, but I choked out, “It was still selfish of me not to consider it more.”
Dad abruptly pushed to his feet, coming around the coffee table to sit on my other side. He cupped my face, drawing my head down to kiss my forehead. I squeezed my eyes closed, more bloody tears spilling free. I felt like I’d cried a decade’s worth of tears in the last few months. As though something blocked inside of me had been released.
“There isn’t a selfish bone in your body, lass,” Dad insisted. “I’m so proud of who you are. I’m so fucking proud that the world gets to see that you are a prime example of the fact that we are not defined by where or who we come from. We are who we choose to be and you, sweetheart, have always been extraordinary. One day, I hope you finally see that too.”
Movement at my other side drew both our gazes to Baird who was wiping his thumb across his eyes. He was completely unabashed by this show of emotion as I shared a watery smile with my fiancé.
I loved him so much.
“I’ve decided I like him,” Dad said quietly.
Baird sniffled and replied gruffly, “Thank fuck for that because you’re stuck with me.”
At that I half giggled, half sobbed, falling against him even as I held my dad’s hand.
My gaze met Grace’s tender one from across the room, and despite the stress, despite the conversations that still needed to be had, I’d never felt so completely loved in my entire life.
CHAPTER FORTY
MAIA
Our next stop was Aunt Shannon’s studio.
My aunt and her husband Cole were two of the most artistic people I knew, and that was saying something since a lot of folks in our extended family had very creative jobs. Uncle Cole was co-owner of one of the most renowned tattoo studios in Scotland, INKarnate, and people came from all over to have their tattoos designed by him. Aunt Shannon was a painter, and after she had the youngest of their three children, she’d transitioned to wallpaper design and was doing amazingly well.
She rented a studio and store near Dean Village, and we found her there. Baird wanted to give us privacy, so he stayed in the store with Aunt Shannon’s sales assistant, Meg, and I followed Shannon into the privacy of her studio.
As soon as we were alone, I blurted out a loud, broken apology.
Aunt Shannon bridged the distance between us, folding her arms around me. The height difference meant I had to bend down to hug her, but I did so, almost afraid to let go.
