by Nia Arthurs
He pauses. Seems to process my words in his head.
“I believe in what I’m doing, Heath.” I suck in a deep breath. “And as much as I wanted to give up and run to you, and I really, really wanted to, I didn’t. I couldn’t make that choice.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” My head sinks. I’m burdened by my own self-loathing. “Sooner or later, you’re going to resent me for the choice I made. I’m going to lose you. And it’d be better to never have the warmth of a family than to have it for a little while and lose it.”
His chest rises and falls with each heavy inhale. Pecs hard and firm. Muscles upon muscles lope his abdomen. The hair on his chest is darker than his blonde locks. There’s a hint of red, like in his beard.
Emotions choke the back of my throat.
I’m going to miss him.
“Brenna, look at me.”
I keep my head down.
“Look at me,” he insists.
I glance up. My eyes devour his long hair that dangles past his jaw. Sweat dots his forehead and those thick eyebrows are pulled into a tight, frustrated knot.
Green eyes lock on me and refuse to let go. “I need you.”
“Heath…”
“Put your clothes on.”
“Not yet.” I shake my head. When we put ourselves together, when the sweat dries and the passion burns out, I’ll truly be alone. I’ll stand in the ashes of what could have been.
And I’m not ready for that moment.
“Bren…”
“This is—we need to end it now, but… just give me a minute.”
He pulls on his pants. “Put your clothes on, Bren.”
“Why?”
“I told you. I need you.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m saving the farmhouse.”
“I heard you.”
“This is where our fairytale stops. I’m—I don’t get the happy ending. I don’t get the prince.”
His lips twitch. “Don’t be cute. It’ll tempt me again and we need to be somewhere.”
“Let’s end it here.”
He zips his pants. “No.”
“You said I can’t have everything. You were right. I don’t expect—you don’t have to understand.”
“I don’t.” He finishes putting himself back together, reaches for my bra and slides my hand through the straps. “But it doesn’t matter to me. Talking with my dad showed me that some battles are more important than others. If I don’t treasure what’s precious now, I’m going to turn out like him, fifty years later and filled with regret. I don’t want my life to be like that.”
“No, it can’t be this easy.” I keep talking because if I don’t talk, I’m going to cry, and I really don’t want to cry right now. My voice cracks as he helps me to pull up my panties. “You’re going to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, Brenna.” He hands me my dress.
“You will.”
“No.” He cradles my cheeks. “I won’t. Now put that on. We’re already late.”
I pull the dress over my head. “What’s going on? Where do we have to be?”
“Come on.” Heath takes my hand. Easing the door open slowly, he peers outside.
It’s empty.
He pulls me down the corridor. “Why did we hide in there?”
“I didn’t want the Make It Marriage women to see us…”
“Fighting?”
“Breaking up.” I clear my throat. Glance away. “I didn’t plan for… anything else to happen.”
He smiles. “Neither did I. But you just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”
“Really?” I roll my eyes, a shiver of delight sneaking through me at his grin.
He leads me to the elevator, clinging tightly to my hand.
It feels like a dream.
Like something I’ll wake up from and realize isn’t real.
He pulls me close and rests his chin on my forehead as the doors shut. “I’m not letting you go that easy.” He tilts my head. “So don’t give up like that.”
“What happened?” I stare into his green eyes. “I can tell that you’re worried.”
“Can you?”
“Right there.” I graze my thumb over the wrinkles around his eyes. “I can see it there.”
“You shouldn’t know me that well yet.”
“I study what I lo—” My eyes bug and I reel myself back before I admit my feelings.
He tilts his head. “You going to finish that?”
“Tell me what happened first.”
He studies me. Rakes a hand through his hair. The light in his eyes dims. “Dad’s filing for custody.”
My grip tightens on his shoulders.
“At least he threatened to. But he’s good for it.” Heath’s jaw clenches. “Glory’s not safe with me. I asked Brogan and Elizabeth to let her stay with them. They have security in their building and they’re also removed enough from me that dad wouldn’t think to look there first.” He stares at the floor. “I’m going to talk to Glory tonight.”
“About the move?”
“About everything.” His eyes meet mine. “I’m going to tell her the truth and I want you there when I do. I don’t think…” He shakes his head. “I won’t be able to get the words out if I don’t have you by my side.”
I sigh into his shirt. “I’ll stay tonight.”
“And after?”
The elevator doors spring apart.
Rather than answer, I squeeze his hand. “Let’s focus on Glory first.”
The way I avoid the question doesn’t escape him, I can tell, but we step out into the night anyway because—for Heath, one thing will always be true.
Glory comes first.
Thirty-One
Heath
Silence isn’t supposed to be this heavy. I shouldn’t be able to feel it like a fist pressing against my chest. Like a two-ton boulder grinding me into the sofa.
But the hush that descends when I’ve told Glory everything makes me wonder if that’s true.
Maybe silence can crush.
Maybe it can even kill me.
Brenna’s sitting next to my daughter. Or, I should say, Glory went and sat next to her after the first, gentle explanation of what our family tree really looked like.
Every word burned after that. I hated the distance, but I also found myself grateful that Brenna had put aside her concerns about us in order to be there for Glory.
My daughter’s bottom lip trembles.
There are tears in her eyes.
I was right.
She was too young for this, but I decided to tell her because hearing it from me is ten times better than hearing the details on the internet.
Which is where this story will end up when dad files for custody.
I pull my fingers into fists and rest them on my legs.
The Jameson name has rarely done me any good, and this time, it’ll destroy everything I’m trying to protect.
“So…” Glory’s voice cracks. “Grampa is my—my real dad?”
I struggle to breathe and it takes me a second to respond because I can’t meet those big brown eyes. “Yes.”
Tears fall down her cheeks.
That’s all she knows for now. I didn’t think she could handle hearing about the affair that resulted in her birth or the fact that my mother doesn’t want to see her because she’s a painful reminder of my father’s infidelity. That will come with time.
One bomb for tonight is enough.
Brenna has her arms around Glory. She pulls my daughter into her side and comforts her soothingly. I want to wrap my arms around them both, but I remain on my side of the couch.
Glory sniffs and each time she does, my heart breaks a little further.
“Sweetie,” I scoot to the edge of the sofa, “while your grampa and I sort this out, you’ll be staying with Steph’s aunt and uncle.”
“Is Grampa going to hurt me?”
“No. Of course not.” My eye
s meet Brenna’s. “It’s just a precaution. Okay? But I’ll talk to you everyday and I’ll check on you. You won’t be with Brogan and Elizabeth for long.”
She bobs her head. “Okay.”
I glance away from her as a tear falls down my cheek.
This is too much to put on her shoulders.
She’s finally experiencing life outside of the hospital now that she’s getting better. She should be thinking about what backpack she’ll take to school and what her favorite subject is. She should be chattering about her ladybug show and reading fairytales.
This world is too messed up.
This situation…
And yet, I can’t hate dad for doing what he did.
I can’t hate him for rejecting Glory.
Because that selfish choice led her to me.
I would do it all over again for the privilege of being her father.
“It’s okay to feel angry or confused.” I stare at my thumbs. My hands are bruised and cut from building things. From tearing them down. I knew how rough they were, and I was always so careful when putting them on her skin as a baby. “Just know that…” I swipe my nose. “That daddy loves you very much.”
Glory flings herself off the couch and launches at me. She wraps her slender arms around my neck and hugs me tight. “I don’t want to live with grampa, daddy. I want to stay with you. You’re my daddy. You’re my daddy.”
My heart breaks.
Holding back the tears is no longer an option. They spill down my cheeks one-by-one. I wrap Glory firmly in my arms and press a kiss to the top of her head.
Even if I could speak, I wouldn’t be able to find the words that would adequately express how much I love this kid.
I hear sniffling and glance up to find Brenna wiping away her tears too. Jerking my chin forward, I gesture for her to join us.
She hesitates but walks over to the couch and settles beside me. I widen my arms to bring her into the hug. My heart is shattered, but having her here makes it easier to bear.
I’m going to hold on to these two.
Even if it kills me, I’m going to fight for them.
“Heath,” Mercy’s voice sounds behind us, “we should get going.”
I release Glory and Brenna, turning to her. She’s holding a sparkly pink suitcase in her tight-knuckled grip. Sorrow flashes in her eyes. Mercy wanted me to tell Glory the truth, but she couldn’t handle sitting through the actual moment.
I rise to my feet. “Please take care of her.”
“She’s my own.” Mercy’s eyes burn with conviction. “Blood isn’t what makes us family.”
I give her a hug. “Thank you.”
“Come on, Glory.” Mercy holds out a hand, visibly holding back her tears. “Let’s pretend we’re in a spy movie and take the back exits.”
“Okay,” Glory says.
I blink rapidly and try to give her a smile. “Daddy will come for you as soon as he can.”
She runs back to me and hugs me tightly. “I love you, daddy.”
“I love you too.” I hold her for as long as I can.
A moment later, she’s out of my arms and through the backdoor.
The silence falls again.
She’s gone.
Brenna walks up to me and slips her arms around my waist. “Are you… okay?”
No.
Not even close.
Weary to the bone. That’s how I feel. Like I just slammed into a heavy brick wall and it crushed me.
“I’ll stay tonight,” she whispers.
Not tomorrow. Those words are unspoken but just as real.
I can’t say her rejection doesn’t hurt.
Maybe I’m just sensitive.
Because dad already bruised me.
Because Glory is gone.
Because I can’t trust myself to protect her.
I crave the warmth that Brenna brings to my life. Giving up on her isn’t an option. I wouldn’t have started this if I’d admit defeat so easily. I knew she would be trouble. I knew she’d fight tooth and nail. I knew my feelings for her wouldn’t solve everything we were up against.
But there was a stupid side of me that hoped it would be easy. That something, anything, for once in my life, would come to me without a fight. That I wouldn’t need to bleed for it and hurt for it.
I return to the sofa and listen to the quiet.
Empty.
No girlish laughter pealing through the rooms.
No little pad of footsteps running from her bath.
No squeals of ‘daddy!’ calling me to come and fix something, or read something, or be something.
My phone rings.
It’s Brogan.
I answer. “Hey, man.”
“Hey. Just letting you know that Glory’s in the car and Steph’s with her.”
I sigh. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
“It’s no problem. Steph adores Glory. And Mercy and Elizabeth get along like two lost sisters. You know Liz’s family is from the Caribbean too, right?”
“Yeah.” I run a hand down my face. “Yeah, I heard that. I’m glad.” I try to drum up a smile. Some cheer. Some hope. But this isn’t a happy situation for me.
Brogan hesitates. “I’m sorry I can’t help more than this. I don’t practice family law, or I’d be the first to jump in and defend you.”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll call that lawyer you recommended in the morning.” I run a hand through my hair. “You offering to take Glory is already going above and beyond. I hate to be an imposition.”
“For the last time, Heath. It’s no imposition. You’re Kastle’s brother which makes you one of us.”
“The Make It Marriage crew, huh?” I tip my head back.
“Hey,” Brogan’s voice gets quiet, “your dad won’t find her here. And if he does, we’ve got security at the front gate. They’ll let us know the moment they enter the building. I’ve also got a nurse who comes in regularly to check on Steph. She’ll take care of Glory too.”
“I know. I know. I’m just…”
“Worried?”
“Overwhelmed.” I take Brenna’s hand and rub my thumb over her wrist. Tomorrow’s the deadline Langley gave me to settle things with the farmhouse, but that’s the least of my worries right now.
“Things will work out,” he says.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Thanks again, Brogan.”
“No problem.”
We end the call.
My fingers grip the cell phone to my ear and I hold it there a little longer. A little tighter.
My chest aches like someone took a gun and shot me three times.
I never set out to be a dad. I was enjoying my freedom. I’d cut ties with my parents, left the Jameson lifestyle behind and I was doing what I wanted. Back-packing through Europe. Exciting trips to Bali. Cruises through the Caribbean.
I had no responsibilities. Nobody telling me what I could or couldn’t wear. How long I should grow my hair. Who I should be.
Then I came back stateside, and I found out that I had a sister. A little baby with brown skin and the brightest brown eyes I’d ever seen in my life.
I never set out to be a dad.
But the moment I held Glory in my arms, I made that decision.
She was mine.
My baby.
My responsibility.
It hasn’t been easy. Hasn’t always been fun either. I had to grow up fast and, since I was already so far behind in maturity thanks to all that bitterness against my parents and the childishness that resided in me, it was an overwhelming challenge.
But it was worth it.
Because Glory answered that big question for me.
Who am I?
Who do I want to be?
A father.
I’m the guy who cradles his daughter close when she’s bawling in the middle of the night. I’m the guy who stays awake until she goes back to sleep. I’m the guy who leaves at five in the morning to work so I can keep a roof over
her head, food in her mouth and the best health care he can afford. I’m the guy who shops in the pink aisle at the toy store because pink is his daughter’s favorite color and damn anyone for giving him a funny look.
I’m that guy.
Him.
Me.
And if dad takes that away…
If I lose my daughter because of something as irrelevant as someone else being Glory’s sperm donor…
“It’s going to be okay.” Brenna rubs my chest soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Heath.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. Let my heart bleed all over her.
She comforts me. Cries with me.
We stay together until late into the night.
I don’t know when I fall asleep, but when I wake up, I’m lying on the couch with a blanket over me and Brenna is gone.
Thirty-Two
Brenna
I go home because waking up next to Heath feels like making a promise I can’t keep. When he was asleep last night, he got a text. I would have ignored the notification except it said ‘Mr. Langley—Farmhouse’.
LANGLEY: Time’s up.
I read that text and I wanted to throw up.
Heath got fired last night.
And I didn’t want to be there when he woke up and saw that.
I wouldn’t know what to say.
Or…
My heart feels empty and, for the hundredth time, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I’ll admit, The Make It Marriage sponsorship made me waver, but it wasn’t the money that caused me to change my mind. It was Venus’s story about the museum.
There’s a little girl out there who needs to know the truth about who she is and where she came from.
She should know that she’s capable of great things.
And she shouldn’t give up. Not ever.
My chest expands on an exhale.
At that moment, there’s a knock on the door.
I peer through the peephole.
Shocked, I open up and stare at the woman standing across from me. “Amelia?”
“We need to talk,” she says crisply.
I let her in and show her to the couch. As she takes a seat, I look her over. Short, bluntly cut black hair. Sharp eyes. Face tucked and nipped so much she can’t smile properly. Clothes more expensive than the couch she’s sitting on.
