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I freeze at the door, staring at the bassinet and the glimpse of a pink blanket.

The baby's cry pitches higher, more furious, filling the small room.

I stand frozen on the threshold, unable to make my feet carry me one single step farther. Every part of me is caught somewhere between terror and a hope so enormous, I don't know how my ribs are still holding together around it.

I barely hear Lainey beg, "Jagger…"

I step closer, taking in the baby's red hair, long lashes, and tiny freckles on her small, furious, red face. Her hands are balled into fists barely bigger than a walnut, punching the air with every wail.

Even through the screaming and haze of shock, it's clear whose jaw is set stubborn and hard beneath all that crying.

That's my mama's jaw.

That's my jaw.

Her eyes crack open for half a furious second between wails, and they're the same shade of blue I see every single morning in my own bathroom mirror.

I force myself to tear my gaze off the baby and turn toward Lainey. "She's mine," comes out of me broken, barely audible over the crying. It's not a question, or accusation, just the plain, devastating truth of it finally landing all the way down in my chest where it's never going to leave again.

My baby's mother blinks hard, but tears fall.

"Lainey. She's mine."

She presses both hands hard against her mouth, and tears stream faster. The look in her eyes just gives me more confirmation.

The more I stare at Lainey with our baby crying, everything I've been holding together by sheer stubborn will finally cracks harder than it ever could. Eleven months of searching, of a receipt gone soft in my glove box, of women who never once fit the shape of her; all of it collapses at once into this one small, screaming truth in the room behind me. I can't tell anymore if what's pouring out of my chest is fury or grief or a feeling so far past both of those words that I don't have a name for it yet.

"How could you not tell me?" It comes out rougher than I mean it to, shaking, not even close to the question I actually want to ask her. "Eleven months, Lainey. She's eleven months of my life I didn't know I had, and you were going to let me stand out there in that pasture, work your way through this contract, and let me go on not knowing."

"I didn't know I was working for you. I-I was protecting her." Lainey's voice breaks on every single word, her whole body trembling.

I fume, "Protecting her? How? By keeping her father out of her life?"

"You were engaged," she charges, her voice cracking.

"That was just gossip. A lie!!" My voice cracks too, and I don't care anymore who hears it. I add, "I never stopped looking for you. Not for one single day."

"Then why did you leave me without even a goodbye?"

"I left you a note."

She jerks her head back, eyebrows furrowing. Then she shakes her head hard. "No. You didn't."

"I did. You know I did."

"You didn't!"

"I did. I can prove it."

Neither of us moves. The baby's cry fills every inch of silence neither one of us knows how to fill ourselves. All I can do is stare at the only woman I have ever wanted enough to lose my mind over, watching her fall apart three feet away from me. And not once in my life have I ever felt more like the ground just opened up and swallowed me whole.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lainey

Charlie wails louder.

Jagger's eyes dart to her, then back at me, flaring with anger. He spouts through gritted teeth, "The receipt, Lainey."