For all the messes I’d made, sobriety was the one thing I’d gotten right, and it felt good to acknowledge it out loud.
I looked down at the giant diamond on her finger. “You’re engaged.”
She looked away, out the window, letting out a small sigh before turning back to me. “I am,” she said simply.
I nodded, looking down at my coffee. “I saw you. On social media. In the news.”
She smirked faintly, taking a sip of her drink. “Keeping tabs?”
I shook my head. “When I got out of rehab, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Then I saw you were dating... and had a kid. You do a good job of keeping her out of the spotlight, so I never saw a picture. I assumed she was his.”
Her smile faltered, fading into something more serious, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup.
“W-Why didn’t you tell me, Nova?” I asked, my voice breaking on the last word. My throat felt tight, my chest aching as I fought to keep myself together.
“I tried, Austin. I did. I called after three months—when I got that payment in my account. The rehab center said you were still in there, that you’d extended your stay. I thought that meant things were bad. I didn’t want Scar—her—to be around you while you were still an addict.”
She paused for a second and gripped her coffee cup. “I couldn’t have her around someone who was throwing bottles when he was drunk. I couldn’t let her see that. I couldn’t let hergrow up with half a father—someone who might be there one day and gone the next.”
My jaw tightened, and I dropped my gaze to the table, shame creeping up my spine. “I wasn’t... I didn’t know,” I muttered. “I didn’t know she existed. I could’ve been better if I’d known.”
Nova shook her head, her eyes glistening as she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe. Maybe not. I had to make the call, Austin. You have no idea how much it killed me to keep that from you, but I couldn’t risk it. Not with her. I had to protect her.”
She furrowed her brow. “When I saw the press conference, it felt like it was the first time you were trying to get help for yourself. I loved you still, and I couldn’t let you mess it up or get better because of her. I still wanted you to get better for yourself.”
I swallowed hard, her words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. She wasn’t wrong—I had been a mess back then. Still, it didn’t erase the ache in my chest or the anger bubbling under the surface.
“You should’ve told me,” I said quietly, my voice rough. “I deserved the chance to try.”
Nova sighed, looking out the window as if searching for an answer she didn’t have. “Maybe I should have,” she admitted. “But I wasn’t willing to gamble with her safety. Not back then.”
Her honesty was like a double-edged sword. I hated it, but I couldn’t deny it. She’d done what she thought was right, even if it meant cutting me out.
“I tried to find you on social media after the first year, but I couldn’t find anything. It’s like you left everything.”
“And my mom? You didn’t think of calling her?”
I looked down at my coffee, shame flickering through me. “At that point, I had started to date Ollie. He was a friend of mine and helped me with her. And finally... I agreed to date him.” Her voice faltered. “Luna thought about it, but...”
“And now?” My voice seemed to break through her thoughts, forcing her to meet my gaze. “What about now? What do you want me to do?”
As Nova looked back at me, her expression was unreadable. “I want you to figure out what kind of father you’re going to be,” she said simply. “Because if you’re going to be in her life, it has to be all or nothing. No halfway, no excuses.”
I looked down at my hands, half expecting them to be shaking, but they were steady.
I had a daughter. I was a father. My entire world was changing, and I didn’t know how to move forward from here.
“I want to be there for her, Nova. Are you planning on staying here, or are you going back?”
She looked down, then furrowed her brows. “We’re here for a while. Luna has some things she needs to figure out.”
“And your fiancé?”
“He—he’s coming here too,” Nova said, her voice tight.
There was something unspoken behind her words, something more she wasn’t saying, but I didn’t press. It wasn’t my place to pry—not when my first priority washer.
My daughter.
