“It was worth a try before you had the neighbors calling the cops on us,” she said.
I pushed through the door first and she followed right behind me, stopping next to me as I saw Kayden sitting on his couch with his head tipped back and his eyes closed, a full bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table and an empty glass tumbler beside it.
I breathed a sigh of relief.He didn’t drink it yet.
Kayden sat up and faced us with red-rimmed eyes. “What are you doing here?”
I took a tentative step toward him, afraid to spook him.Is this how it feels to talk people off a ledge?
I focused on calming my racing heart and stepped closer. “Olivia told me you’re sober, Kayd.”
He looked at me quizzically before turning his attention to Olivia, surprise crossing his features.
“I remember that night pretty well,” she said. “I was worried about you. Are you still sober?”
“Yes. Seven years.” Kayden leaned back onto the couch.
I let out a breath. “That’s a long time,” I said, slowly closing the distance between us. I lowered myself to the couch next to him. Olivia rounded the coffee table and sat on his other side.
“Seven years longer than my father,” he said bitterly.
I put a hand on his knee. “What can I do for you right now?”
He looked between Olivia and me and pulled at his hair. “I don’t want to drink it. I’ve been staring at it for an hour but no part of me wants to open that bottle.”
“Okay,” I said. “We can help with that. Right, Liv?”
She nodded and he looked at me. “I shouldn’t have bought it. I’m not like my dad, Jace.”
“I know that, Kayd,” I said, putting my arm around him and pulling him against my side. “You’re nothing like him.”
“I only made it a few blocks away from your office before I had a panic attack. I bought it in a fog. I’m a father and I don’t know anything about my daughter but I know that I want her to grow up and love whoever she loves, yet here you were, in this terrible position because I’d asked you to keep us a secret. How can I tell her to be proud of who she is when I’m still hiding who I am? And why am I even hiding anymore? I am proud of who I am.” I rubbed his back while the words poured out of him. My heart ached for all the thoughts he struggled to weed through at any given moment.
“I just know I’m going to fall in love with you, Jace, and it turns out you’re basically my daughter’s father—at least, the only one she’s ever known. You’re extremely close to the one woman who I’ve regretted never seeing again in a way that makes all of this even more complicated and I have no idea if I’ll even get to really meet my daughter.” He lifted his head to face Olivia, and his voice cracked on a sob. “I just want a chance to know her.”
Olivia put a hand on his knee and squeezed. He relaxed against me at her touch, and I felt fear flood me at the sight of their obvious connection. But with the fear came gratitude for the gentle way she handled him when he was so vulnerable.
“You can know her, Kayden. I promise,” she said softly. “I never planned for this moment in our lives and I need to figure out how I want to do this. But I was wrong to say that you don’t get a choice in this. You deserve one. I’m sorry that my own fear made me forget what I already know about who you are.”
“You trust me to meet her?” he asked through teary eyes.
“Of course I do.” She squeezed his knee again. “I think you and I have some catching up to do, but I know you’re a good person and I want her to have you in her life.”
Kayden looked at the bottle again. “I will never let her look at me with the same disgust I have for my father. I’ve made it seven years without giving in to temptation and I won’t let this change that. For me or for her.”
Olivia looked between us and stood up. She picked up the bottle. “Can I dump this out for you?” she asked gently.
“Yes,” Kayden said.
“Is it the only bottle in the apartment?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Thank you for asking that.”
She nodded and took the bottle and the empty glass into the kitchen.
As soon as she stepped out of the room, I pulled him against my chest, hugging him tightly and finally breathing easy when he fully relaxed into me and hugged me back. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you had a history with alcohol. I never would have kept offering you drinks.”
“I know,” he said. “Before I understood my anxiety, I self-medicated. Alcohol calmed my nerves and made me feel more social in college. It didn’t take long before I’d developed a serious problem. I went to rehab seven years ago, started CBT, and got on the proper anxiety medication. I’ve been good ever since. I don’t mind being around people who drink.”
