36. Wyatt
36
Wyatt
I rub my knuckles nervously as I sit on Bailey and Dean’s sofa, waiting for my daughter to get off work. Dean let me in when I showed up, even though I’m sure Bailey would have told him what she’d discovered, and I’m grateful that he’s at least giving me a chance.
Whether Bailey will is another question entirely.
He hands me a beer from the fridge, then lowers himself onto the leather sofa beside me, flicking on a Giants game. We drink in silence while I glance at the clock, wondering what’s taking Bailey so long. It’s after eight.
“Does she always work this late?” I ask.
Dean nods, not glancing away from the TV. “Most nights.”
I frown. Bailey’s too young to be spending every night at the office.
I glance up when I hear the door open, my heart leaping into my throat. When Bailey rounds the corner to find me on her sofa, she stops short.
“Dad…” She stares at me in shock, setting her bag on the counter. Then, as if remembering she’s mad at me, her brows slash together and she folds her arms. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk, honey.”
She huffs, her gaze sliding to Dean. “Did you let him in?”
“Of course.” Dean gives her a patient smile. “Should I have made him wait in the hall?”
Her jaw tightens, then relaxes. “I guess not.” She looks back at me. “Alright then. Talk.”
Dean senses his cue, turning off the TV and rising from the sofa. “I’ll walk to the pizza place on the corner. Vegetarian for you, right?” he asks me, and I stifle a laugh. Even with Bailey on the verge of kicking me out, Dean’s polite enough to fetch me dinner. He’s such a good guy.
“Yes, please.” I pull my wallet from my pocket, handing over a few bills. “It’s on me.”
He opens his mouth to protest and Bailey cuts him a look. With a nod, Dean stuffs his feet into his sneakers and slips out the door.
Bailey looks back at me, heaving a sigh. “I need alcohol for this,” she mutters, rounding the counter and pulling a wineglass from the shelf. She pours a generous glass of white, then joins me on the sofa, looking at me expectantly.
“So.” I take a deep breath. “Poppy told me you received an anonymous text about us.”
Bailey snorts. “It wasn’t anonymous. It was Kurt. Obviously.” Of course, she figured it out. “I wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t sent a picture,” she adds.
I grimace. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. We’d planned to tell you after the conference.”
Bailey is quiet for a while, staring into her wine. Finally, she says, “How long has it been going on?”
Fuck. I knew she’d ask that.
“A while,” I admit, setting my beer on the coffee table. “It… started in Napa.”
Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Wow.” She grinds her jaw, fingers locked around her wineglass. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I’m sorry, kiddo—”
Bailey holds up a hand, halting my words. “I’m not a kid, Dad. I’m an adult.”
I blow out a long breath. “I know.”
“ Do you? If you did, you would have treated me like an adult and told me what was going on.”
I hang my head. “You’re right.”
“That’s what bothers me the most,” she says, her eyes ringed with hurt. “That you both felt like you couldn’t tell me. That you hid it.”
Remorse washes through me. “We should have told you. I know it doesn’t make up for it, but we’ve both felt awful keeping it from you. Neither of us wanted to hurt you.”
Bailey stares at me for a long moment, then softens. “I know. And I get why you didn’t tell me. It’s… awkward. Ugh.” She drops her gaze from mine. “My dad and my best friend.”
“We tried to fight it, we really did. But…” I let the air drain from my lungs. “There’s an attraction between us that we couldn’t ignore.”
She wrinkles her nose, taking a long sip of wine.
“It’s not only a physical thing,” I add hastily. “It’s, she’s… I’ve never felt like this. Neither has Poppy, from what she’s told me.”
“I worry about her,” Bailey murmurs.
“I know you do, honey. I do too.”
Bailey examines me over her wineglass for a long moment. “And you didn’t think it was inappropriate to get together with her?”
“Of course I did. I told her I was too old for her, that she was vulnerable…”
“Exactly,” Bailey cuts in with a frown. “She’s vulnerable because of what Kurt did to her.”
“That’s what I thought too, but…” I pause, thinking of the woman I’ve gotten to know. The woman I’ve fallen in love with. “She’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for.”
Bailey’s expression darkens. “You didn’t see the way he treated her. The toll it took on her.”
“It’s probably just as well,” I mutter, raking a hand through my hair. “Or I might be in prison for murder charges.”
A smile tugs at the corner of Bailey’s mouth. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
“I do.” I think for a moment about Bailey’s words. “But I wonder if you’re underestimating her strength. You saw her at her lowest point, and that’s a hard image to shake, especially when you care for someone so much.”
Bailey glances at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I chuff a laugh at the irony. “You’re like an overprotective parent, not wanting her to leave the nest. Not trusting her out in the world on her own.”
Bailey grunts a laugh. “Maybe you’re right.” She shakes her head, brushing lint off her work pants. “She’s like a sister to me, and it crushed me to see her go through what she did with Kurt. I don’t want her to go through that again.”
I place a hand on my daughter’s knee. “You can trust me to take care of her.”
“I know.” Bailey sighs. “It’s not just that. It’s… I don’t want you to get hurt, either, Dad.”
My lips part in surprise. “You’re worried about me ?”
“Of course I am. I always worry about you.”
My heart squeezes. “You don’t have to worry about me, honey. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, though, are you? Not after what Mom did to you.”
I freeze. “What?”
Bailey sets her wineglass down, twisting to face me. “I know you didn’t choose to miss out on the first half of my life. Mom didn’t tell you about me.”
My jaw sags. “How do you…”
“She let it slip one night.” Bailey’s eyes roll to the ceiling. “When she was drunk.”
Jesus.
“When?”
“I don’t know.” Bailey thinks. “Maybe about five years ago?”
Shit. She’s known that long?
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t know if I should.” Bailey lifts a shoulder, looking uncomfortable. “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”
I nod, my throat prickly with emotion. “It is. I would have been in the hospital the day you were born, if I’d known.” I reach for her hand. “I would have been there every single day of your life.”
“I know.” She looks down at our hands. “I think I’ve always known.”
Something eases in my chest. For the first time, I feel like I’m having a truly honest conversation with my daughter.
“The truth is, I’ve never forgiven your mom for not telling me,” I say. “For all the things I missed.”
“Me neither. I’m working on it with my therapist.”
My eyebrows rise. “You’re in therapy?”
“Yeah, for a few years now.” She tilts her head, almost amused. “How do you think I recognized all of Kurt’s toxic behavior? My therapist helped me identify it in Mom.”
I grimace, seeing the connection for the first time. They’re not exactly the same, Brittany and Kurt, but there are similarities there for sure. Kurt might be more egotistical, more outgoing and sure of himself, but both he and Brittany wield emotional manipulation like a weapon. Neither cares who they hurt if it gets them what they want.
And I finally understand why Bailey is so protective of Poppy. After what she experienced with her mom, it’s been hard to see her friend go through it too. She’s like me—she can’t stand the thought of someone she loves suffering.
I think of the times I wish I could have been there for my daughter, could have shielded her from Brittany, and my throat burns. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you from her, honey.”
Bailey squeezes my hand. “It’s okay. I thought it would get better when I moved out, but it almost got worse.” She gives me a grim smile. “Why do you think I jumped at the chance to move to the other side of the country?”
I half laugh, half grimace in response. “So it wasn’t because of me?” I joke, hoping it will lighten the mood.
“It could never be about you, Dad. The worst part about leaving New York is missing you. Well, you and Poppy.” Bailey’s brows draw together as if she’s suddenly remembered what prompted this conversation, and she takes a long slug of wine.
I sip my beer too, listening to the clock tick above the stove in her kitchen, the sound of traffic outside. It feels so much better to have everything out on the table, but where do we go from here?
“Poppy said you’re in love,” Bailey mumbles, focusing on her wineglass.
“We are. I know it’s quick, but—”
“Dean and I fell in love quickly,” she says with a shrug. “When you’re with the right person, you just know.”
I smile at my daughter, surprisingly wise despite her age.
Bailey sets her wineglass down, pulling out her phone. She brings up the message from Kurt with the picture of me and Poppy at Jones Beach, and studies it.
“You look happy, Dad. You both do.”
“We are happy. We…” I swallow. “We want a future together.”
Bailey nods, still studying the picture. “That’s what Poppy said, too.” She looks up at me. “So you want to marry her?” she asks, her voice gruff, as if she’s the father here.
I scrub a hand across my beard in an attempt to hide my smile. “Yes. I want to marry her, I want to have a family with her…” Bailey looks almost sad as she gazes at the two of us on her phone, and it makes my chest hot. “You’re my family, honey. You always will be. But… I missed so much. I never got to see you take your first steps, teach you how to ride a bike or climb a tree.”
“I know,” Bailey says hoarsely, blinking the shine from her eyes. “You should get to have all that. I want you to be happy.” She sniffles, shaking off the emotion, then meets my gaze. “And if you and Poppy make each other happy… then I’m happy.”
I press my eyes shut as emotion overwhelms me. Knowing Bailey accepts Poppy and me… that’s all I could ever want. More than I could ask for.
“Honey…” My eyes brim with tears. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Dad.” She looks at me in shock, reaching over to hug me. “I’ve never seen you cry.”
I laugh through the emotion, squeezing my daughter. It’s relief, I realize, on so many levels. That Bailey knows the truth about her childhood, that I don’t have to carry that burden anymore—the need to prove I could have been a good father, if I’d only been given the chance. I’m free to be myself now, to enjoy my relationship with my daughter for what it is. I’m free to pursue this new business idea without worrying what Bailey will think if it fails because she knows the truth. She knows I wanted the world for her—that I still do.
And then there’s the fact that she’s okay with me and Poppy. She can make her peace with us, with the future I see more and more clearly every day.
Bailey rubs my back, sighing, and I’m flooded with gratitude for her. For her maturity, her compassion, the woman she’s become.
“Thank you,” I say as we part, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for being so understanding. So supportive.”
“You’ve been nothing but supportive of me, Dad.” She gives me a tired smile, sagging back against the couch. She suddenly looks exhausted, and for the first time, I notice the rings under her eyes, the pallor in her cheeks. I think back to Dean telling me she works late most nights, and my brow knits.
“I’m worried about you, honey.”
She rolls her head on the sofa to look at me. “Why?”
“You didn’t get home until late. Dean said that’s normal.”
“It is.” A sigh gusts out of her, followed by a yawn. “I love my job, but… it’s a lot. Long hours.”
I nod, an idea sprouting in my mind. After everything we’ve discussed tonight, I don’t want to fly back home. I want to rebuild my relationship with my daughter, establish a new foundation based on honesty and trust. Things have calmed down a little at work, and I know the team can manage without me. It’ll be good practice for when I eventually move into the new side of my business.
“Could you take a few days off?” I venture. “I could stick around for a while, we could hang out, spend a little time together.”
Bailey’s face falls. “I can’t. I have a presentation tomorrow about the New York conference, and three back-to-back meetings.”
“What about the rest of the week?” I press.
She shakes her head. “I can’t ask for leave yet. I haven’t been there long and it doesn’t look good.”
“Yeah, but… you could mysteriously get food poisoning for a couple days,” I suggest, and Bailey gives me a look of mock horror.
“Dad! That’s not very responsible.” A wicked smile curves along her mouth as she nods. “But I like it.” She laughs, then her brow furrows. “What will you do while I’m at work tomorrow?”
I scratch my chin in thought. There’s something that’s hovered at the edge of my consciousness for a few weeks now, but what I didn’t realize was that I was waiting for Bailey’s blessing. Waiting to make sure she would be happy about me and Poppy. Now that I know she is, it feels like the perfect time.
“Do you know any good tattoo studios around here?”
Bailey laughs. “More tattoos, huh?”
“It’s for Poppy.” My mouth twists into a sheepish smile, and Bailey sighs, but it’s not with annoyance; it’s with a kind of gentle acceptance.
“There’s one I pass on the way to work each morning. I could show you on the way in.”
I grin. “Sounds good.”
The door opens a crack and Dean pokes his head in. It makes Bailey roll her eyes as she rises from the sofa, pulling the door all the way open.
“Come in, you dork.”
Dean chuckles. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”
Bailey takes the pizza boxes from him, lingering beside the kitchen for a moment as if deciding whether to get plates, then shrugs and sets them right on the coffee table.
Dean toes off his sneakers and joins us. “You two all good now?” he asks tentatively.
Bailey squeezes my arm. “We’re good.” She takes a bite of her pepperoni pizza, her brow furrowing. “But I keep thinking about Kurt, how far he’s pushed things this time. Something really needs to be done about him.”
Dean nods vigorously, his mouth full, and I give her a savage smile.
“Oh, don’t worry. We have a plan to take him down.”
Bailey looks vindicated. “About fucking time.”
“It sure is.”
I tuck into my pizza with a new sense of purpose. I can’t wait to see Kurt destroyed, but more than that, I can’t wait for him to leave Poppy the fuck alone. I can’t help it; I’ll always want to protect her.
I’ll always want to keep her safe.