Chapter 40
FORTY
F ord
The trail cuts through the forest like a ribbon, flanked by towering Douglas firs and clusters of cedar trees that still smell like rain even though it hasn’t fallen in days.
The sunlight filters through the dense canopy in narrow shafts, catching on the morning mist that still clings to the undergrowth. It’s cool here, even in June.
Jesse, Noah, and I have been running for a while, up past the ridge above Deep Cove where the town feels miles away.
This is where I come to think. Or not think.
Where I go when my chest is too tight, and my brain won’t shut up.
The trails are just hard enough to make your body burn and your lungs stretch wide, perfect for when your mind’s racing and you need something physical to chase the noise out.
Jesse finally breaks the silence, his breathing steady but strained. “So… how’s she doing?”
He means Poppy. They’ve all known her name since the night I came home from the hospital and nearly put my fist through the wall .
“She’s good,” I say, dodging a root and keeping my stride. “Better than good. She’s… incredible. She’s got this laugh that makes your chest ache. And she looks just like me, it’s fucking wild. She has so much of Lan in her too.”
“She sounds great,” Noah says.
“Yeah. She’s amazing.”
We stop to catch our breath when we hit the lookout point, a break in the trees where the land drops off and the ocean stretches out to the horizon. I stretch my arms over my head, watching the wind ripple across the bay.
Noah speaks up. “So, you guys gonna tell her soon?”
“Yeah. This week.” I swallow hard. “Landyn and I are telling her together. It’s the right thing to do. But, man…” I pause, shaking my head. “I’m scared shitless.”
“You think she’s gonna take it hard?” Noah asks.
“I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to be the reason she’s upset. I can’t…I can’t stand the idea of being the person who breaks her heart. It feels like we’ve been making good progress, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
There’s silence again, then Jesse says, “And what about Landyn?”
“What about her?”
“You two figuring things out?”
I let out a long breath. “That’s messier. I’m still mad. I lost six years I’ll never get back and she’s the reason why.”
“But you also still love her,” Jesse says. It’s not a question.
“Of course I do,” I admit, almost angry at how true the statement is. “I always have. Even when she left. Even now, when I don’t know how to look at her without feeling like I’m breaking open.”
Noah nods. “Love can’t undo the betrayal. But it might be the thing that helps you heal from it. ”
I glance at both of them. They are the only two people, aside from Wes, in the world who know what it took to crawl out of the life we were given. And even now, after everything I’ve built, as I stand on the edge of everything I thought I wanted, all I know is this:
Poppy changed everything.
I want to be a man she can look up to, even if I’m still figuring out how to forgive the woman who made me a father.
“I get why she did it,” I say again, quieter this time. “That’s the hardest part. She was scared that I wouldn’t want the baby. That she’d ruin my life. She thought she was doing the right thing. But none of that makes it any easier.”
I kick a rock off the trail, watching it tumble down the slope.
“And in some ways, she wasn’t wrong,” I admit, pain lacing every word.
“I would’ve dropped everything. I would’ve thrown away my shot at Cove, at getting all of us out of that shitty life and giving us something better.
I would’ve done it for her. For our kid.
” My voice breaks at the end, and I have to stop for a second, rubbing a hand across my forehead.
“That’s what kills me. She knew I loved her enough to burn the whole goddamn plan to the ground, and she couldn’t live with being the reason I did that. ”
Jesse and Noah don’t say anything, letting the silence breathe.
“It’s just… heartbreaking. She raised our daughter on her own. She built this whole life without me. And now that I’m finally here, part of me wants to scream at her for taking it away, and the other part just wants to hold on to what I’ve got.”
“Do you think you can you move past it?” Jesse asks .
I look out at the ocean, my jaw tight. “I don’t know,” I say honestly.
“I want to. God, I want to. Every time I look at Poppy, I think… this is it. This is what matters. But then I look at Landyn and I still feel the bruise. I still hear the silence of those seven years. And I don’t know how to stop feeling it. ”
Noah claps a hand on my shoulder. “Give it time, man. If you’re both still in it, you’ll get there.”
I nod, but the ache in my chest doesn’t leave me.
Because I already know I’m still in it. I never left.
I’ve spent the past three days running over the words in my head, playing out every possible reaction she might have, hoping for the best but mentally preparing myself for the worst.
The three of us are sitting on the porch at the cottage.
Poppy’s bike—pink, of course, with glittery streamers—is tipped over on the driveway.
I spent the past 30 minutes jogging alongside her, helping her learn to ride without training wheels.
She’s determined like her mom. And like me.
She fell once, skinning her knee. She cried for about 10 seconds before hopping back on, gritting her teeth like it was personal.
I think I’ve said “I’m so proud of you” at least a hundred times today.
I’ll say it a hundred more. Now she’s curled beside me on the porch swing, between me and Landyn.
The air smells like cut grass and summer and the porch light is starting to glow against the deepening evening sky.
It would be a perfect night, if it weren’t for the weight of what needs to be said bearing down on us.
I look at Landyn, catching her eye over Poppy’s head We haven’t touched since she flew down the driveway and into my arms the other night.
A quiet tension lives between us, like we’re both waiting to exhale.
Poppy swings her feet, her cheeks pink, her curls wild and sweaty under her helmet. “Did you see that last one?” she asks, beaming. “I almost went all the way down the driveway.”
“You crushed it,” I say, bumping her shoulder lightly with mine. “Total pro.”
She grins up at me, all confidence and sunshine. Landyn shifts in her seat. The moment is here. She sets the mug down gently on the porch rail. “Hey, Poppy? Can we talk to you for a second?”
“Okay,” she says, still smiling, though she tilts her head, sensing something in our tone. I reach over, unbuckling her helmet strap, more to buy time than anything else. My heart is pounding.
Landyn brushes a curl from our daughter’s face . “You know how special you are, right? How loved?”
Poppy nods, suddenly quieter.
“There’s something really important we want to tell you,” I say, my voice thick. “Something that might surprise you.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes round and curious. “Okay.”
“I love you so much ,” Landyn says again, brushing her hand down Poppy’s back. “You know that, right?”
Poppy nods. “Yeah.”
“And sometimes,” I add, swallowing the nerves building in my throat, “grown-ups have to tell you things that are a little…big. Things that might be confusing at first, but they come from a really good place.”
Poppy’s brows pinch together. “Like what?”
Landyn’s eyes meet mine. They’re wet. Brimming. She nods once.
I take a deep breath. “Like the truth,” I say. “The kind of truth that changes everything. That makes things even better.”
Poppy sits up a little straighter and looks between us, suddenly unsure.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” I shift to face her, trying to keep my voice soft. “Something really important.”
She blinks up at me and all I can see is how innocent and trusting she is. I rub my hands on my jeans and try again. “You know how we’ve been hanging out lots lately? Bike rides, grilled cheese, dance class?”
She nods slowly, like she’s not sure where I’m going with this.
“Well…there’s a reason I keep showing up. A reason I want to be around you so much.” I look at Landyn again, and she squeezes Poppy’s hand gently.
I inhale. “The truth is…I didn’t just come into your life because I think you’re cool—though you are. I’m here because…” I pause, my voice catching. “Because you’re mine,” I finally say. “I’m your dad, Poppy.”
She freezes.
“I didn’t know that until a little while ago,” I say gently, quickly, needing her to understand. “If I had known—God, Poppy—I would’ve been here every single day since the moment you were born.”
Her mouth opens slightly, but no sound comes out .
“I’m so sorry I missed so much,” I whisper. “But I’m here now. If you’ll let me be.”
Poppy doesn’t say anything at first. She just…
stares. At me. And then at Landyn. Then back at me again.
Her little chin wobbles and her lips part like she wants to say something but isn’t sure how.
Her fingers curl in the fabric of Landyn’s skirt.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure they can hear it.
Finally, her voice comes soft and trembling. “But…why didn’t you know?”
Landyn closes her eyes. “That’s my fault, sweet girl.”
“It’s not about fault,” I say gently. “Sometimes grown-ups make really hard choices. Your mom…she did what she thought was best at the time. But if I’d known you existed? I would’ve been here the whole time. I promise.”
Her bottom lip trembles, and tears slip down her cheeks. “You’re really my dad?”
I nod. “Yeah. I am.”
She swipes at her eyes, messy and overwhelmed, and it wrecks me. I’m on my knees in front of her before I realize I’ve moved. My hands hover in the space between us. I want to hold her so bad it physically hurts, but I wait.
“I know this is a lot,” I tell her. “And it’s okay if you feel weird or mad or sad, or even happy. Whatever you feel, it’s okay. I’m just…really, really happy I finally get to know you.”
She sniffles. “You taught me how to ride my bike.”
I blink. “Yeah.”
“You made me grilled cheese.”
A small laugh chokes out of me. “I did.”
She studies me for another long second. Then, slowly—so slowly—it happens. She leans forward and wraps her arms around my neck. I freeze for a second, not quite letting myself believe it’s real. Then I pull her in tight, burying my face in her shoulder, and I don’t even try to stop the tears .
“I love you already,” she whispers, barely audible. “Even if I just found out.”
I can’t speak. I just hold her tighter. Landyn’s hand is on my back, rubbing gentle circles, and all I can do is press my lips to the side of our daughter’s head and breathe her in.
This is it.
This is everything.