“But fate had other ideas.”
“Fate? You think I was fated for this?”
“Nah. Not really.” He shrugs. “I believe in making your own fate.”
I go to rake my hand through my hair, but I forget I’m holding a cigarette and almost burn the ends of my hair off. I take a deep drag instead and blow out another puff of smoke, watching it float over the water.
“You seem to be handling it okay,” Dad remarks.
I bark out a laugh. “I started smoking again, so obviously not. I’m trying to, though. I have to figure out how to be someone who can handle this.”
“Of course you can.” His tone goes gruff. “But I will say…”
“What?”
“Being a father isn’t something you can half-ass. You can’t get lost in music for days.”
“I know. If she keeps the baby, I’ll do whatever I need to do.” A lump fills my throat. “I love her.”
His expression softens.
“I’m not gonna let her go through this alone.” I take another drag. “It’s weird, but when she told me, we were sitting right there,” I say, nodding to the end of the dock. “Time just stopped for a moment. But then…it kept going.”
He chuckles. “Well, yes, that’s usually how time moves. Forward.”
“No, I mean… I wasn’t panicked. I was calm. I thought, okay, I guess maybe we’re doing this, or maybe not. Blake even commented that I wasn’t as scared as she thought I would be.” I exhale another cloud. “Were you scared when Mom told you she was pregnant with us?”
“Beyond scared,” he admits. “I reacted poorly.”
I frown at him. “Poorly how?”
“We got into a big fight because she kept it from me for weeks. I only found out because she started bleeding and had to go to the hospital.”
“That doesn’t sound like Mom. Why didn’t she tell you?”
“Because she was scared of how I would react, and rightly so. I didn’t want kids that young. I was still in the NHL. But not only that—I didn’t know how to be a father. Because mine was a piece of shit who only spoke to me if it was about hockey or when he was beating the shit out of me and my mom.”
I nod, because I’ve heard this before. And while I feel sick about the childhood he had, I’m proud of who he’s become. He’s a good man in spite of his father. He could’ve taken a whole different path, perpetuated the cycle of abuse, but he broke free of it.
“I lashed out,” he continues, and I hear the grief in his voice. “I said shit that I regret. The thing about your mom is she always sees through my bluster and cocky remarks. She knew it was coming from a place of fear and was able to forgive me. We made up, and then we had you guys, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He reaches over and slings one arm around me, squeezing my shoulder before releasing me.
“You’re already ahead of the game, Wyatt. You’re standing here saying you’ll do whatever it takes. And that’s something I had to learn the hard way. I had to learn to be your dad.”
“Well, I had—have,” I correct, “a great father. I know I can do this if she wants me to. Maybe not perfectly. I’ll probably screw it up half the time, but I think I can do it.”
I can’t believe the words that are exiting my mouth. Who the fuck is this guy? My entire life, my head has been pure chaos, pushing me in a thousand different directions. One summer with Blake has tethered me. Not in the way she fears, though.
Not a trap but an anchor.
When I check on her a short while later, she’s curled up on her bed, her cheek pressed against the pillow. The ashen shade of her facetells me she just threw up.
“You okay?” I ask quietly. “Need me to bring you some crackers? Water?”
“No, thank you. I’m just gonna lie here until my stomach settles.”
I stretch out next to her, and she rolls toward me and rests her cheek on my chest. I run my fingers through her hair.
