Chapter 48 - Ciarán
Fourty Eight-Ciarian
I flew into Tampa the night before Avian's party to prepare myself. I’d been in solitary confinement for years. I needed to give myself time to back out, but be close enough to convince myself to go.
I decided to show up.
I was sitting outside the two-story traditional home she’d texted me. I was surprised she was having a party in the middle of the afternoon instead of at her club. But this was better, I supposed. My therapist said sunlight is healing.
The driveway was packed, so I had to park on the street. I didn’t pay attention to the black SUVs and minivans instead of the sports cars Avian's friends usually drove—until I saw balloons on mailboxes and heard kids' music thumping low in the background.
I double-checked Avian's text, wondering if I had the wrong day.
It looked like a kid’s party.
I kept walking to the back of the house like Birdy had instructed.
The smell of barbecue hit me first. Then I saw a bounce house, folding chairs, little girls running in tutus, faces painted, laughing loud.
What the fuck?
Then another what the fuck. I remembered Avian’s birthday wasn’t until February—it was August. I ran that through my head again as I stepped onto the grass.
This wasn’t her party. What was she up to?
Then my eyes landed on Jordin. My heartbeat tripled.
She was standing near the porch, a summer dress hugging her just right, hair wild and soft around her face, smile lighting up for whoever she was talking to.
Time didn’t touch her. Or maybe it did, but it made her softer, fuller, better.
I didn’t breathe.
I didn’t blink.
My chest got tight as hell.
I couldn’t even lie to myself in that moment. I missed her. Missed her so deep it felt like my ribs couldn’t expand right.
My feet moved in her direction before I could think, but just as I was approaching, I was snatched back. I spun and came face to face with Oak.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was sharp. Low, but loud enough to sting. “We haven’t seen you in four years, and now you just show up?”
I lifted a brow, trying to keep it cool even though my chest was tight. “Damn, relax. Avian invited me.”
His jaw ticked. He wasn’t trying to hear it. I didn’t blame him. I had interrupted his life and then disappeared, leaving him to deal with Jordin. I owed him an apology.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Avian rushed over, sliding between us.
“Stop, Oak,” she said, voice tight. “He should know. That’s why I invited him before it’s too late, if it isn’t already.”
“Know what?” I asked, my gaze still locked on Jordin across the yard. She hadn’t seen me yet.
Avian looked me dead in my face, hesitating before spitting it out.
“Jordin had your baby.”
Everything stilled.
My ears rang. The world tilted. Like my brain couldn’t hold that shit at first.
“What?” I breathed.
Oak groaned, frustrated. “This ain’t how she wanted to tell you.”
“What?” I turned to him, eyes sharp. “That’s impossible. I had a vasectomy. Jordin would’ve told me.”
Oak’s jaw clenched. “She tried. She called you a thousand times. I told her to stop hurting herself trying with you. You made it clear you didn’t want her.”
I stumbled back a step, suddenly needing air. Too much. Too fast.
I turned and walked away. Fast. Didn’t even know where I was going, I just needed to get the fuck out of there.
My car was halfway down the street. I moved like I was being chased. My mind blank, my chest full of shit I didn’t wanna unpack. The grass felt like it was moving under me.
I was unlocking the door when I heard it.
“Ciarán!”
It stopped me cold.
I turned, slow.
My eyes landed on a little brown girl with afro puffs and a purple dress, grabbing tight to Jordin’s shirt while peeking over her shoulder with curious eyes that looked too much like mine.
Time. Stopped.
It all hit me at once. The weight of four years. The missed milestones. The birthdays. The first words. The moments I didn’t even know I was supposed to be there for.
I couldn’t breathe.
I didn’t move. Just stared.
The toddler looked at me. She looked like me.
I didn’t want children—not because I didn’t like them, but because I didn’t want to fuck them up the way I’d been fucked up.
But I wanted her. I already loved her.
This was too much and too heavy to carry right then. It felt like I was dying, with the sun beaming down and the music still playing.
Jordin stepped forward like she might come closer, but I got quickly in the car and shut the door. I heard her yelling my name, begging me to stop.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t face that yet.
I pulled off fast, leaving dust and pain behind me. I didn’t go far, though. Just down the block. Parked under a tree. Sat there with the car running, staring at the street, feeling like my insides were exposed to the air.
I broke.
My head fell forward. Shoulders slumped.
Tears came.
Silent. Heavy.
No ugly crying, no loud sobbing shit.
Just wet and raw and full of every mistake I ever made.
I had fucked up.
Fucked up bad.
And this time, the cost had a name.
And a face.
And little hands I’d never held.