Chapter 62
CHAPTER 62
HAYES
I parked across the street from the taco truck. When I said I wanted to talk, I was thinking my place or hers. Somewhere with some privacy. Clearly, Dixie had other plans. I supposed I couldn’t really be picky. She was giving me the chance to apologize, which was a huge first step. But I wasn’t foolish enough to believe an apology was going to fix anything. She didn’t have to accept it. She didn’t have to believe me. I fully expected her to tell me to fuck off. This was just the first of many apologies I was going to have to give her.
I felt almost human again, but I knew I looked a little pale. And all the Visine in the world was not going to get rid of the bloodshot eyes. In a way, I hoped that would work to my advantage. Maybe she would take pity on me. Then again, it might just piss her off to see how badly I fucked up.
I got out of the car and looked around for Dixie. I hoped this wasn’t her way of standing me up. Getting me back for last night in some weird way. It would be kind of funny, though. Send me to a taco truck to look like an asshole. Still, tacos.
The truck had its own enclosed patio section with a few tables under umbrellas. I spotted Dixie standing in line, her expression unreadable. I crossed the street, my mind racing with everything I needed to say. I hoped she didn’t squirt salsa in my eye or throw hot queso in my face.
But if she did, I knew I deserved it.
I approached her slowly, my hands shoved in my pockets. She didn’t turn around, but I could see the tension in her shoulders as I got closer. The smell of sizzling meat and spices filled the air, and for a moment, I let myself pretend this was just another normal day. Like we were meeting up for dinner because we wanted to, not because I’d royally screwed things up.
When I reached her, there was an awkward moment of pretending to meet for the first time, like we were strangers. Dixie played along, but it was clear she wasn’t thrilled to see me.
“Two steak tacos,” she said to the guy behind the counter, then looked at me. “You want anything?”
I shook my head. “Not hungry.”
I bought her tacos as a way to apologize for being an annoying inconvenience. The employee at the food truck gave us a weird look, probably thinking we were both crazy.
When her food was ready, she grabbed it and walked over to one of the tables under the umbrella. I followed, feeling like a lost dog trailing after its owner. She sat down and unwrapped one of the tacos, taking a bite without saying a word.
I cleared my throat. “Dixie, I?—”
“Eat,” she interrupted, nodding toward the other taco on the table.
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re pale as hell and look like shit.”
I was relieved to see Dixie actually smile for a moment. But it didn’t last long. Her expression turned serious when she looked me in the eyes.
“I’m nervous about talking to you,” she said. “About meeting you at all. I’m not sure what to expect after last night. I’ve been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to keep it together. I haven’t slept. I’m hormonal and really just in a shitty mood.”
I nodded, grateful for her bluntness. “I don’t expect you to keep it together. If you want to yell at me, I accept that. You have every right to lose control. I just have a lot to say, and I?—”
“Hayes,” she interrupted. Irritation was written all over her face. “Just spit it out. Please?”
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. “Okay. Here it is.”
I told her in detail about the conversation with her mother, how she’d come to see me and suggested I give Dixie a lot of money and disappear from her life. “She said that was in the Bancroft playbook. That’s not true. The only one that did that was my uncle. I know a few of my cousins and brothers have fathered children they were unaware of, but as soon as they found out, they made it right.”
“That’s my mom, not me,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “At first, I’d been angry—offended, even. The fact that I didn’t know you were pregnant embarrassed me. It felt like someone else had taken the wheel of my life. I’m not good at not being in control. I freaked. I was pissed at you and her and the situation. I felt betrayed. Instead of doing what I should have done—talking to you, regardless of how uncomfortable it was—I pulled away. I should have tried to work through it with you. I see that now.”
“You’re right,” she said. “You should have. You talked to me, but you never told me all of that.”
“I know,” I said. “I should have. It just festered. At the wedding, it had all come to a head. I never meant to have sex with you. That was confusing and wrong. I felt like such an ass for letting it happen. I wanted to talk to you, to tell you about your mom, so we could work through it together. I meant to share what I was thinking and feeling, to lay out my doubts and reservations. But then we had sex. I felt like I crossed a line. I felt like such an asshole. After that, I couldn’t move forward the way I wanted to. I started thinking about the baby, about how I couldn’t handle it, about how sideways everything had gone. And then I drank too much.”
She nodded. “That’s an understatement.”
“I’m really sorry,” I said, my voice breaking.
Dixie nodded but her expression gave nothing away. “Yeah. I am too. Especially because I’ve always thought that people just get more honest when they’re drunk. Which means there has to be part of you that deep down wants to do what my mother suggested. Your true colors came out. You’d rather write a check and not have to worry about the actual upbringing of a child.”
I grimaced but didn’t deny it. “I did, until it was all put into very sharp perspective for me. And when I say I did, that’s only because I’m afraid of my own shortcomings. I didn’t want to fuck up a kid or make your life harder because I screwed up.”
“That’s the coward’s way out.” She took a bite of her taco.
I wasn’t expecting her to fall over herself to accept my apology, but this was hard. Far more difficult than I anticipated.
“You’re right,” I said. “My brothers were furious with me for even considering abandoning my child like our uncle had. I saw it as a way I could save us both.”
Dixie frowned. “What does that mean?”
I knew I was in over my head, and the odds of making this work with Dixie and our unborn child were already shot. There was no sense in holding back now. I had to be completely honest. She deserved nothing less. And if she was going to give me a chance, I was going to have to lay it all out. I couldn’t have her doubting me.
I took a deep breath. “I’ve never seen myself as a dad, Dixie,” I said. “I saw my uncle screw it all up multiple times, and my old man got it wrong a lot when we were kids, too. I see what it takes to be a good father and a good husband. My brothers are examples of that. But I’d be a liar if I said I thought I was capable of that same thing. I’d let you down. Both of you.”
My gaze flicked to her stomach, and I was hit with a pang of longing I’d never felt before. “If I stand back and look at the whole picture, I can’t help but think you’d both be better off if I wasn’t in the picture. I know people think being in the Bancroft sphere opens doors. It does, but it also brings a whole new level of trouble. Scrutiny. Expectations. It’s a lot. I’m not going to complain and pretend my life has been miserable, but the name brings a spotlight. Some of us are a little more notorious than others. Trust me when I say it’s not great to have people look at you, see my last name, and make assumptions. Like your mom did.”
Dixie stared at me, her eyes wide with confusion. “Where is this coming from?”
“I’m not saying I don’t want you. Or this. I’m saying I think you need to?—”
“No, no, no,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, where is all this self-doubt coming from? You’re the most confident, assertive, sensible, capable person I know. You can accomplish anything you set your mind to. Fatherhood is supposed to scare you. It means you’re sane. Burying your problems with your money?” She challenged, her voice rising. “That is insane. To me, it sounds like a shitty excuse to get away from a problem you don’t want to deal with.”
“I swear, that’s not what it is,” I said. “Your mom got in my head. That’s on me.”
“My mom shouldn’t have gone to you,” she said. “It wasn’t her business to tell you. It also wasn’t up to her to demand money. I confronted her last night after I left the wedding. I yelled at her, letting her know just how badly she overstepped. She poured gasoline over everything I was building and then lit it all on fire.” Her voice trembled with anger.
That gave me some satisfaction to know her mother got an earful. I had remained respectful, but I would have loved to give her a piece of my mind. “I didn’t mean to cause problems between you and your mom,” I murmured.
“You didn’t,” Dixie said, her voice softening just a little. “She did that all on her own. She’s been meddling in my life for years, but this? This was a whole new level. I don’t need her making decisions for me or trying to manipulate people into doing what she thinks is best. I’m not her puppet, and you’re not her bank account.”
I nodded, feeling a flicker of relief that Dixie wasn’t letting her mother off the hook either. “I understand.”
“I’m going into this thing with my eyes wide open,” she said. “I’m going to consume as much information as I can to prepare myself for motherhood. But there’s one thing I know I need at this point. One. Crucial. Thing.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“A partner who is either one hundred percent in or a hundred percent out,” she said, her eyes locking on mine. “And I need to know exactly where you stand. There is no halfway or a little bit. All in or all out. Period.”
I stared at her, my mind racing. I wanted to be that partner. I wanted to be all in. But the fear was still there.