She was pregnant with my baby.
My baby that’s now a little girl.
A little girl I know nothing about because she kept that knowledge from me.
My eyes sting as I lift my head and stare at her. “How could you keep this from me? It’s been eight years!”
She slides her hand across the table, reaching for me, but I shake my head, and she withdraws it. “I was afraid, Vander. Afraid he’d hurt you, me, or Iris.”
It’s such a pretty name. What a pity I had nothing to do with naming her. “We could’ve worked something out,” I say, snapping my gaze to the waiter and motioning him for the check. I’m about to lose it, and I won’t do that in public or in front of Kendall. I know she wouldn’t have kept my child from me if she’d felt there was any other way, but that doesn’t make any of this right! I need time to wrap my head around this bomb she’s dropped, and I don’t want to lash out at Kendall and say something I’ll regret until I’ve had time to process it. “I’ve lost eight years with my daughter.”
I feel an instant protective urge and an insatiable need to meet her, but I need to get my shit together before I consider that.
Wow.
I’m a dad.
My mind is well and truly blown.
“Seven,” Kendall softly says, yanking me out of my inner monologue. “Iris won’t be eight until December. Her birthday is two weeks before Christmas.”
“Something I should already know,” I say through gritted teeth, handing my platinum card to the waiter without even looking at the check.
“You think I don’t know that?” Pain is etched on every gorgeous curve of her face. “You think it hasn’t killed me keeping her from you and you from her? That I haven’t cried myself to sleep at night as each year rolled around because you were missing out on so many special moments?” She thumps her chest. “It’s devastated me, Vander.”
“As much as this is devastating me.” I add a tip and punch in my code on the card reader, keeping my lips closed until the transaction is done and the waiter has stepped away from the table. “I need to be alone.” I stand and grab my jacket off the back of my chair. “I don’t want to say something that will hurt you, Kendall, because I know deep down you did what you felt was right, but I’m struggling to accept that. All I can focus on is how much I have missed. I didn’t get to watch Iris grow in your stomach. I wasn’t there to hold your hand when you delivered her into the world. And I haven’t been around to help raise her.” I choke on a sob as I pull back her chair and help her to stand. I brush the dampness from her cheeks. “That hurts so much.”
“I’m sorry, Vander,” she says in a defeated tone as I escort her from the restaurant.
“I know.” I open the door and let her step outside first.
She turns around, facing me with tension bracketing her face. “I know you’re shocked and upset, but we need to talk about this properly.” She rummages in her purse, removing a business card and handing it to me. “Call me when you’re ready to hear what I have to say.”
Nodding, I hail a taxi and hold her hand as the car pulls up to the curb. “This wasn’t how I saw tonight ending,” I say, pulling her in for a brief hug.
She smells so good.
Feels so good in my arms too.
And she’s pretty as a picture in her gorgeous pink dress with her hair styled in soft waves the way I have always loved it.
She hasn’t aged a day. She still looks young and beautiful, and when I first saw her tonight, I couldn’t wait to kiss her and hold her and tell her how much I still love her. I planned to get down on my knees and plead for forgiveness for failing her when she needed me the most. I imagined the night ending with us firmly reunited and rolling around my bed. Now everything is shot to shit, and I can’t unscramble the mess in my head.
“I’d like to say me either, but I knew something you didn’t.”
She pins me with the saddest eyes, and I can’t let her leave like this. “This doesn’t change my feelings for you, but it’s a lot to process, Kendall. This feels like the ultimate betrayal.”
She cups my face as the taxi idles by the curb. “I understand, but you need to give me a chance to explain.”
“Just give me some time.” I put her in the back seat before handing a fifty to the driver and asking him to take her home.
Kendall rolls down the window and peeks out at me. “Don’t take too long, Vander.” Snatching my hand, she places a photo on my palm. “I have an excited little girl at home who’s been waiting a long time to meet her daddy.”
* * *
I park my car a few blocks from Kendall’s flagship bakery the next afternoon, making the rest of the journey on foot. My head is still cluttered, and I’ve thought of nothing but my daughter and the circumstances of Kendall’s pregnancy since she dropped the bomb last night.
I stared at the picture of Iris for hours when I was lying in bed, unable to sleep. She’s beautiful, just like her mom. She has my dark hair and Kendall’s blue eyes. Wearing a big smile, she looks like a happy little girl, and the fact she’s well cared for comforts me. I know the kind of mom Kendall is, and I know she’ll have gone overboard to compensate for my loss in our daughter’s life.
