CHAPTER SIXTEEN #2
"Wednesday dinners. Hockey practice. Teaching her backward crossovers. Reading her bedtime stories." Each memory was a knife twisting deeper. "Every single moment, you watched me fall in love with her, and you let me think I was just Uncle Easton."
"I was trying to protect her!" Sadie shouted.
"From what? From me?" I stepped closer, and she backed up until she hit the wall. "I'm her father, Sadie! What were you protecting her from?"
"From you leaving!" The words burst out of her, raw and desperate. "From you deciding being a father was too hard, or too complicated, or interfered with your career! From her getting attached and then you disappearing when it got difficult!"
"You don't get to decide that for me!" My hands were shaking. "You don't get to make that choice!"
"You were playing for the Wolves! Focused on your career! Dating other women!" Her cheeks were flushed, mascara running. "You clearly didn't want commitment!"
"I didn't want a commitment with random hookups!" I shouted back. "But that was my child, Sadie! Mine! And you decided I didn't deserve to know she existed?
"Every time she called me Uncle Easton," I continued, voice dropping to something more dangerous, "did it amuse you? Watching me pretend to be something I wasn't?"
"That's not fair!"
"Fair?" I laughed bitterly. "You want to talk about fair? I missed six years of her life. Six years I can never get back. First words. First steps. Her first time on skates. First day of school. First lost tooth. All of it. Gone."
"You think I wanted this?" Sadie's voice cracked. "You think I wanted to raise her alone? To lie to her about her father? To watch her ask why all the other kids had dads at their games and she didn't?"
The words hit me hard, but I pushed through.
"Then why didn't you tell me?" I asked, quieter now but no less intense. "Two months ago, when I showed up for community service. Or when Casey told me I was her favorite person. Or when she asked if I'd ever be her real uncle, not just pretend."
Sadie's face crumpled. "She asked that?"
"Yes. And I told her I'd always be there for her. That I wasn't going anywhere." My voice broke. "And the whole time, I was already her father and didn't even know it."
"I was waiting for the right time," she whispered.
"There's never a right time for this, Sadie! You just tell the truth!" I ran my hands through my hair, trying to get control. "But you know what the worst part is?"
She didn't answer.
"You didn't trust me." The words came out flat, emotionless. "Seven years ago, maybe you had an excuse. But these past two months? You watched me with her. You saw how I was with Casey. And you still didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth."
"I was scared," she said, voice barely audible.
"Of what?"
"Of this! Of you being angry! Of you trying to take her from me!"
"I would never—" I stopped, took a breath. "I would never take her from you, Sadie. But I deserve to be her father. I deserve to have a say in her life. And she deserves to know the truth."
For a long moment, we just stared at each other, both breathing hard.
Then Sadie said quietly, "You haven't asked if she's okay."
The observation stopped me cold.
"What?"
"This whole time." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "You've talked about what you lost. What I kept from you. Your rights. Not once have you asked if she's okay. If she's happy. If she's been hurt by any of this."
The accusation hit me like a slap.
She was right.
I'd been so consumed by my anger, my sense of betrayal, that I hadn't thought about Casey. Casey, who thought I was Uncle Easton. Casey, who didn't know.
"Does she know?" My voice was hoarse. "Does Casey know I'm her father?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Sadie wiped at her tears, voice barely a whisper. "Because I didn't know how to explain it. Because every time I tried to find the words, I couldn't."
"I'm not leaving."
"You don't know that."
"Yes." I stepped back, needing space before I said something I couldn't take back. "I do. I want a paternity test."
Sadie flinched like I'd hit her. "You don't believe me?"
"I believe you." The words came out flat. "But I need it in writing. For custody.”
"Custody?" Fear flashed across her face. "You're going to take her from me?"
"I don't know what I'm going to do, Sadie." I headed for the door, my chest so tight I could barely breathe. "But I need time to think. And I can't do that here."
"Easton—"
"Send me her medical records. Birth certificate. Whatever you have." My hand was on the doorknob.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know." I looked back at her one last time, taking in her tear-stained face, the devastation in her eyes. "But I need time to figure it out. And I can't do that here."
"I'm sorry." Her voice broke completely. "I'm so sorry."
I didn't answer. I walked out and closed the door behind me; the sound of it clicking shut somehow seemed final.
A window on the first floor was partially open, and as I stood on the porch, Casey's voice carried clearly through it.
"Mom?"
I froze on the front step.
"Is Uncle Easton mad at me?"
Something in my chest constricted at Casey's innocent question.
Sadie's response was muffled, but I heard the tears in it. "No, baby, he's not mad at you."
"Then why was he yelling?"
"He was mad at Mommy. Grown-up stuff."
"What did you do?"
A pause. "I made a mistake. A long time ago. And Uncle Easton just found out about it."
"Is he coming back?"
God, that question. The hope and fear wrapped up in four words.
"I don't know, baby."
"But he promised!" Casey's voice rose, shrill with panic. "He promised he'd take me skating on Saturday!"
"I know. But he might need a few days to cool off first. Sometimes when grown-ups argue, they need space."
"How many days?"
"I don't know."
"Are you crying?"
"A little."
"Don't be sad, Mommy." Casey's voice got closer to the window. "Uncle Easton will come back. He loves us."
I closed my eyes, those words shattering me completely.
He loves us.
She thought I'd leave. After everything, after all the time we'd spent together, Casey thought I'd walk away because I was mad at her mother.
I couldn't let her think that. No matter how furious I was at Sadie, I couldn't let Casey believe I'd abandoned her.
But I also couldn't face either of them right now. Not when I was barely holding it together.
I stepped off the porch and walked to my truck. Made it to the driver's seat before my legs gave out completely. I sat there, head against the steering wheel, and let the grief I'd been holding back crash over me.
I had a daughter.
A daughter who didn't know I was her father.
A daughter I'd fallen in love with before I knew she was mine.
And the woman I'd been falling for had kept her from me for six years.
My phone buzzed. Text from Holly.
Holly: Please don't do anything you'll regret.
Too late for that.
I was already regretting everything.
I started the truck and drove.