5. Tristan
Chapter 5
Tristan
I stand in front of the mirror of the rental unit, staring at my reflection as I calm my racing heart. The reflection shows a man who looks composed, but inside, I’m anything but. Today is the day I meet Lana officially. The idea sends anxiety through me. If only I could relax and let things come naturally.
Last night keeps replaying in my mind—the way me and Willow made love, the intensity of our emotions, and the passion that feels like it never left. Yesterday’s memories are a lifeline, filling me with determination. I must fix things. For Willow, our daughter, and for the family we never had the chance to be.
I draw in a deep breath and step into the shower to let the hot water cascade over me. Washing away the remnants of sleep, I scrub my skin, easing the tension in my muscles, and cleansing away the lingering doubts.
After the shower, I dry off quickly and pull on my clothes—jeans and a casual shirt. The clock glares at me. It’s the afternoon already, and every tick of the second hand seems to resonate louder than usual. I comb my hair, trying to tame it into some semblance of order, but my hands are trembling.
Closing my eyes, I imagine how today might unfold. Meeting Lana and seeing her face light up when she realizes who I am. The vision makes my anxious heart thunder in my eardrum.
I catch my reflection again and force myself to pull in a few deep breaths. “You can do this.”
The 3-minute drive to Willow’s house feels like forever. Each turn of the steering wheel fills me with anticipation, the gravel crunching under the tires of my Lambo like a countdown.
After walking up the steps to the front door, my pulse kicks up a notch as I ring the doorbell with a shaky hand.
Finally, the door opens, and there she is—Willow, standing before me with the same mesmerizing eyes that have always held me captive.
She steps aside to let me in. “Hey. Perfect timing. Hunter’s not here. He’s still pissed about everything that happened back then.”
I walk inside, immediately enveloped by the warmth of the home and the faint scent of pine. “Well, good thing I didn’t come to see Hunter.”
With clean lines and a minimalist design, the interior of the house is sleek and modern. The furniture is of high quality, with plush white leather sofas and a shiny glass coffee table. The walls are crisp white, adorned with landscape art pieces and large windows that offer a breathtaking view of the surrounding forest.
Oddly, the home resembles an upscale mansion of a tech billionaire rather than a cozy log house.
My eyes fall on Lana. Sitting on the hardwood floor in the main room, her small hands hold on to several colored pencils. Her dark hair is styled into two neat pigtails, each adorned with pink bows that match her pink dress.
She looks up, her eyes wide. “You’re the man from the gas station.”
A flood of guilt washes over me for the lost years, hitting me like a wave. I think of all the birthdays I missed—the first crawl and the bedtime stories I never got to tell. Each lost minute is like an iron plate pressing down on my torso. But a profound, overwhelming joy I can barely contain overshadows that guilt. She’s my daughter.
A lump forms in my throat, and my vocal cords catch as I speak, the words barely able to make it past the raw emotion tightening my upper body. “Yes. I am.”
Willow and I exchange a glance, and it’s like a silent conversation passing between us. She gives me a slight nod.
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to Lana, each step cautious. As I get closer, I notice the colorful drawings scattered around her, evidence of her budding creativity.
Kneeling down beside her, I gently pick up a drawing—a vibrant scene of mountains and a bright blue sky. “These are amazing, Lana. You’ve got quite the talent.”
She beams and lights up with pure joy. “Mommy says I get it from her.”
Willow observes us with a soft smile.
“She’s right.” I return my attention to Lana. “But I think you’ve got something special all your own.”
Willow grins and nods. “She does. She’s a budding artist.”
I point out the mountain peaks and riverbeds on Lana’s creation. “Yes, I see that. You have a great sense of color and detail.”
Excitement radiates through my chest as I consider the possibilities and future of her art.
Lana stands up and approaches me, tugging at my sleeve. She looks up with her innocent eyes, and my heart melts. “You’re my daddy, right?”
While my voice chokes with emotion, I kneel to her level. “Yes, Lana. I’m your daddy.”
Lana giggles, the sound like music to my ears. She shuffles closer, her small hand reaching out to touch my arm. “Will you draw with me, Daddy?”
A surge of emotion floods through me. I swallow hard and nod. “I’d love to.”
We sit together on the floor, surrounded by colored pencils and paper. As the day progresses, the hours seem to blur into one another as we play and draw together.
I offer her art tips and guidance, feeling a sense of fulfillment I’ve never experienced before. For the first time in years, I feel whole. This is my rightful place, with them, creating a future together.
Willow wears a serene smile while she moves around the house with an effortless grace. Every shared glance and accidental touch as we pass by each other sends a spark through me.
Later, when Lana is absorbed in her art, I venture into the kitchen to talk to Willow. She’s making coffee, her movements deliberate and practiced.
I lean against the counter, watching her. “Last night was beautiful. I can’t stop thinking about it. About us.”
She glances at me, her expression full of longing and caution. “Neither can I. But so much has changed, Tristan. We’ve both changed.”
I step closer, closing the distance between us and reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “But some things haven’t changed at all. Some things are just as strong as they were before.”
Her breath hitches at my touch, and her pupils search mine. “Tristan…”
I don’t let her finish. Instead, I pull her into my arms and my lips find hers in a passionate hunger that’s been building for years.
She responds immediately, her arms wrapping around my neck as she kisses me back with equal fervor. It’s as if no time has passed, and yet, everything is different. The years apart, the pain, and the longing all melt away in this moment.
We break apart, both of us breathless, our foreheads resting against each other.
My pulse races as lust rushes through my groin. “I’m going to have you again.”
She pulls back, pushing her hair out of her face. “We have a lot to figure out, Tristan. This isn’t easy.”
My stomach tenses as my thoughts race to comprehend her. Is she sick of me already? I draw in a breath, but it’s shallow.
Before I can respond, Lana’s voice calls out. “Mommy, Daddy, come see what I drew!”
Willow and I share a look before we venture back to the living room.
Suddenly, the front door swings open with a force that makes it bang into the wall.
Hunter strides in, his presence filling the space with a masculine force strong enough to send shock waves flashing across the room. He exudes strength and power, his every movement confident and calculated.
His body is massive, with bulging muscles that strain against his shirt. His arms are thick and powerful, and his shoulders look like they could carry the weight of the world. He glares at me. “What the hell are you doing here, Tristan?”
My muscles tense, and I hold my ground, alpha instincts flaring. “I belong here.”
He cuts me off with a harsh laugh, the sound bitter and edged with years of resentment. “Not in my house, you don’t.”
Willow moves to stand beside me, her hand slipping into mine in a silent show of support.
Hunter’s eyes blaze, his fists clenched at his sides.
Willow lifts her chin. “Tristan’s here for Lana.”
He shakes his head and continues his fierce gaze at me while his jaw sets in a hard line. “Let me get this straight. You think you can walk back into our lives and pick up where you left off after all the pain you caused?”
Willow drops down to Lana and points a trembling finger toward the hallway. “Lana, can you please go to your room, sweetheart?”
Lana looks at the three of us before nodding and running off to her room.
A ripple of guilt and regret crashes over me, but I straighten my back as Lana disappears out of sight. I face Hunter. “Look, it’s obvious I’ve made mistakes, but I’m not going anywhere. I love Willow, and Lana is my daughter. I have a right to be here.”
Hunter’s body turns more tense as muscles ripple through his stretched shirt. He strides forward. “Actions speak louder than words. You left her when she needed you most.”
I step to him. The clenching of my jaw is audible, the teeth grinding against each other. My fingers curl into a fist. “Bullshit. I’m here to claim what’s mine and I won’t back down.”