I gulp, setting my drink down a little too forcefully. “We’re not doing this tonight, Violet.”
But she’s already rolling with it. “Oh, yes, we are. You know, it’s been six years, Dakota. Six. And you still haven’t told him. Isn’t that kinda difficult now that you’re back here?”
I stiffen, my chest tightening as her words land, heavy and true. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” she presses, eyes narrowing with that typical Violet brand of wisdom. “You’ve been hiding behind this wall of yours for years. I get it. I do. But now you’re here, and he’s staring at you. He deserves to know.”
I swallow hard. “I’m not planning to tell him. I’m only here to sell the house, remember? I don’t know if it’s a good idea to bring all of that up when I’m not going to be around for anything to come of it.”
“Mmm, I see.” Vi nods slowly. “But don’t you want him to know? Clint isn’t a bad guy, you know.”
I stare down at my glass, wishing I could disappear into it. The memory of that night, of Clint’s hands on me, of the laughter and the heat that followed, makes my skin burn.
But the bigger burn is what came after. The mess of it all.
The mess thatImade of it all.
But how was I supposed to know that my one-night stand would go that way?
“What if he rejects Charlie?” I finally say quietly.
Violet rests her hand on mine. “He isn’tyourfather.”
The words hit me hard, and I can’t breathe.
He isn’t your father.
The simplicity of it makes my heart flutter, and at the same time, it makes my chest feel even heavier. I want to believe her, I really do, but the fear of Clint rejecting Charlie… it’s a monster I’ve been keeping locked up for years.
“I need another drink before I eventhinkabout that.”
I look back over at Clint. He’s not looking directly at me anymore, but I can feel him. His presence fills the space between us, a quiet tension that makes my skin feel too tight.
She follows my gaze and sighs. “Dakota, Clint’s not some random guy. I know it was a one-night stand, but he’s here and so are you. It just feelsright.”
“I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, by the way, you’re the father of my son.’ Do you know how insane that sounds? How complicated it is?”
“Complicated?” Violet raises an eyebrow, leaning in, about to drop some truth on me. “Girl, if you think telling him is complicated, try spending another five years wondering what could have been, hiding in the shadows, and waiting for the other shoe to drop. If you don’t know, it’s way worse.”
I chew on my lip, her words echoing through my mind. I’m not sure what I’m more afraid of: telling Clint or living with this secret forever. What if telling him shatters everything? What if I ruin Charlie’s chance at a normal life?
“I know you’re scared,” Violet says gently. “But you owe it to yourself to face this, to stop pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. And you owe it to Charlie, too. He deserves to know who his dad is.”
I nod, barely able to look her in the eye. “I know. You’re right. It might not have been my plan, but things change.”
The slightly bitter taste of the beer washes over me as I finish it off, then set the glass down with a quiet clink. Violet’s eyes are full of that patient, knowing look, but I can tell she’s not going to let me back out of this now.
She’s ready to drag me into the deep end if she has to.
“Alright,” I say, trying to sound casual, but there’s a nervousness in my gut I can’t ignore. “One more drink, then I’ll talk to him. Maybe.”
Violet’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. Don’t overthink it, just go for it. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces afterward.”
I snort, feeling a bit more lighthearted with the alcohol loosening my nerves. “You’re terrible.”
“Terribly helpful,” she retorts with a wink.
I take a breath, feeling the courage start to bubble up, not sure if it’s the beer or just the idea of finally doing something about this. Either way, it’s happening.
