Prologue #2
I swept my gaze over her face. She looked like a faker version of the Katie I’d once fallen in love with.
Her lips were fuller, and the skin around her eyes was tight, explaining the astronomical charges on my credit card.
I wanted to ask her about the money she was spending, but I knew that conversation would only end in an argument, and then any chance I had of seeing Anastasia would be dead in the water, so I kept quiet.
I pulled my gaze from my ex and peered into the tall windows that framed the front door. “I want to see Ana.”
“I really wish you’d called.” Katie moved to block my view into her house. “I already put her to bed”—I parted my lips—“and you know how she gets when she’s woken up,” Katie hurried to add.
The desire to demand that she go wake up my daughter so I could see her rose up inside of me. But the pointed look in Katie’s gaze had me slowly closing my lips.
“I’ll let her know you stopped by,” Katie said with a twinkle of satisfaction in her gaze. It was a look that I had become accustomed to. She knew that, this time, she’d won. And the last time. And the time before that.
I was beginning to wonder if there had ever been a time in our relationship that I had won.
Not wanting to spiral, I swallowed down my frustration and cleared my throat.
My history wasn’t squeaky clean, and Katie knew that.
We both knew that if I tried to get custody of our daughter, I would lose.
If I wanted a chance of seeing Anastasia, I needed to play by her rules, even if they were ever changing.
“I have something I want you to give her,” I said as I made my way back to my bike.
I flipped open the saddlebag and pulled out the teddy bear with a pink cowboy hat that I’d found for her in Dallas last week. I’d wrapped it tightly in the white plastic bag from the store so it wouldn’t get dirty. Katie followed me to my bike, so I held it out for her to take.
“What is this?” she asked as she gingerly pinched the gift between her forefinger and thumb.
“Can you just…give it to Ana?” I asked.
She glanced down at it, back up to me, and then back down to the bag. I could tell that she wanted to say no. That she wanted to hand it back because it seemed to be offending her, but she didn’t. Instead, she just nodded but held it as far away from her body as she could.
“I’ll give it to her in the morning,” she said.
Grateful that I wasn’t going to have to fight her on this, I nodded. “Thanks.”
Her gaze flicked up to me for a moment. “Yep,” she said before she turned and headed toward the door.
“We’re not leaving for Orlando until ten tomorrow,” I called out. “Can I come see her then?”
Katie paused, her shoulders stiffening in the darkness.
I knew I should have just let her walk back inside.
That I shouldn’t push her when she was already so obviously agitated.
But I promised myself when I was a kid that I would never leave my child fatherless like my father had left me.
I was determined to make an effort to be in her life even when it felt like that effort was never fruitful.
Slowly, Katie turned around. I could see her annoyance etched on her face. Her patience for me had grown thin.
“She has school tomorrow,” Katie said, her voice low.
“I know, but I was thinking since I’m in town, maybe I could take her to breakfast—”
“She has routines, Liam. You can’t just swoop in here and demand that she depart from them.”
I stared at Katie. Was she serious? “Katie, I—”
“I’m tired Liam. I’ll give Anastasia the bear tomorrow, but you’ll have to plan another day to see her.” She narrowed her eyes before turning and making her way to the front door.
I stayed there, standing in her driveway long after she disappeared inside. So many words…so many thoughts were running through my mind, but I couldn’t manage to say any of them.
Katie had changed. This wasn’t the woman I’d fallen in love with. This wasn’t the woman I had been determined to marry. I’d given her everything. I’d made her my world. But it seemed like that wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough.
I swallowed against the emotions rising up in my throat. I walked back to my bike and shoved my helmet onto my head. In one swift movement, I swung my leg over the seat. With the kickstand up, I started the engine.
I took off down the street, not caring that it was well past midnight. I was angry. I was hurt. But most of all, I was alone.
I was always alone.
I stuck to the shoreline as I drove. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I needed to get as far away from here as I could.
I finally stopped at an old, sun-bleached pier. I parked my bike in the sand-filled parking lot and got off. The desire for freedom rose up in my chest as I walked across the weathered wood to the edge. I pulled off my helmet and stared down at the water.
It was dark and murky. The reflection of the moon was the only light that shimmered across its glassy surface.
Lyrics and music started swirling around my mind as I pulled my phone from my pocket. After logging out of Fading Atlas’s social media accounts, my thumb lingered over my secret account. The account that no one knew about. The account where I felt free.
I pressed on the profile and typed in my password. I hit record just as the swarm of notifications began to ring on my phone. After selecting a filter that blacked out my face, I lifted my phone.
“Hello, lovelies,” I said, my voice low and rumbly. “I apologize that it’s been a while, but I’m hoping you’re still out there.” I started to hum the beginning measures of the song that had been rolling around in my mind. “This song is for all of you mending a broken heart.”
I sang like my life depended on it. The lyrics flowed from my lips like singing was the only thing in this world I was meant to do. Here, under this persona, I could be who I wanted to be. Under this persona, I was truly free.
After I finished, I paused, letting the last bits of the song linger in the air before I turned back to my phone. Then I closed my eyes and said the same outro I used every time I posted a new song.
“Much love, Drifter.”