My heart breaks open and my chest fills with a rush of warmth I did not expect. I swear to God I could cry right now. “Your favorite player?” I ask, my voice thick with emotion. It’s like a lifeline thrown in the middle of this swirling sea of uncertainty. “I’m uh…wow. I’m really honored, bud.”
“Well, I mean, yeah.” He nods, and for a moment, we just stand there, the world around us fading into the background. I see the way his fingers grip the edge of the photo album and wonder what thoughts are going through his young mind right now. “You’re really my dad? Like, for real?”
I swallow hard, fighting to keep the emotion from cracking my voice. “Yeah, bud. I’m your dad. For real.”
Harper lets out a shaky breath like she’s been holding it for years. I step forward, every instinct screaming to kneel in front of him, to say something that will make this easier…or better…or…I don’t know. I just want the moment to be memorable for him, but the words aren’t there. I’m just as taken aback by what’s happening as he is.
Connor looks between us. “You guys could’ve just told me,” he says, almost casually. “It’s not that big a deal.”
My knees nearly buckle as a wave of relief washes through me, leaving me light-headed and unsteady on my feet.
Harper smiles, tears in her eyes. “Hey, buddy?—”
“I’m gonna go finish looking at the pictures,” Connor says quickly. “In the other room.”
He disappears before either of us can stop him. A door clicks shut down the hall so I know he went into one of the guest rooms or my room. Either way he’s in a safe space.
Probably just needs to process all this.
Harper shifts beside me and I can’t do anything but stare at her.
“That went…way better than I expected,” she whispers, cautiously optimistic.
“Yeah.” I nod, but my chest still feels tight. “Yeah, it did.”
It was too easy.
And now…it’s too quiet.
Then there’s a sound that stops my breath.
It’s muffled at first, like a tiny, wounded animal noise followed by a broken inhale that tears through me like a skate blade to the chest…and then another.
Oh shit.
And then there’s a sob so raw, so devastated, it shatters something fundamental inside me. I feel it break, jagged pieces slicing through my insides.
Connor!
No!
Harper freezes, her face drained of color. Her hands flies to her mouth. “Oh God,” she breathes, her voice trembling, but my legs are already carrying me down the hall, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I push open the doors to the guest rooms, panic rising like bile in my throat when I find them empty. When I burst through the last door at the end of the hall, my room, I see him sitting on the edge of the bed, destroyed. The album lies splayed on the floor like evidence at a crime scene and Connor’s shoulders are shaking with each breath, his knuckles white as he grips the comforter as if it’s the only thing anchoring him to Earth. His face—Christ, his face—is contorted in agony, streaked with tears, flushed crimson with betrayal that no child should ever have to feel.
“Connor,” Harper whispers, her voice breaking as she steps in behind me.
He whirls on her fast and hard, his baby blues wild with hurt. I hate that I know that look.
Ifeelthat look.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words rip from his throat like they’re being torn from somewhere deep inside him, his voice shattering mid-sentence. “Why didn’t you let me have a dad?”
“Sweetheart—” Harper reaches for him, fingers trembling.
“NO!” The scream explodes from him as he jerks away, his small body vibrating with rage. “You LIED to me! My…my…my WHOLE LIFE!” His chest heaves with each ragged breath. “Everyone else has a dad. All my friends—” His voice collapses into a strangled sob. “You said my dad didn’t want to be a dad.”
Wait.
