10. Cassian
CASSIAN
The bar is dim, full of muted conversations and moving shadows. I'm on my second scotch when Walt slides into the booth across from me.
Walter Halloway. College roommate, best friend, the only person who witnessed my complete collapse after Amara disappeared without warning.
He works in tech now, some startup that's doing well enough.
Tall, lanky, perpetually looks like he just rolled out of bed even in a button-down because he's got a serious case of blond bedhead.
"You look like shit," he announces, flagging down a server.
"Thanks, you too."
"I'm serious. When's the last time you slept?"
I don't answer. The scotch burns going down, which is exactly what I need right now.
Walt orders an IPA, waits until the server's gone before leaning forward. "So. You finally found her."
"Yeah."
"And? Don't leave me hanging."
"She has a daughter." My tongue swipes over my teeth. "Five years old. Hazel eyes, Walt. She looks exactly like me."
He goes still. The easy humor drains from his face. "Jesus."
"Her name's June." I drain the rest of my scotch, signal for another. "She answered the door. Just opened it right up. And I looked at her and I knew. Before Amara even appeared, I knew that little girl was mine."
"Did Amara confirm it?"
"She tried to deny it at first. Then she admitted it without actually admitting it, if that makes sense.
Told me I lost my chance six years ago, that she's not sharing June with me just because I decided to show up.
" I run my hands through my hair, grip the roots hard enough it hurts. "She thinks I chose Raylin over her."
Walt's eyebrows shoot up. "What?"
"Apparently she saw Raylin hanging around me constantly and decided we were together.
She left because she thought I'd picked Raylin over her in the end.
" The server drops off my third scotch. "I never touched Raylin.
Never wanted her. Spent six years looking for Amara, and all this time she thought I'd moved on. "
"That's..." Walt pauses, searching for words. "That's fucked."
"You think?"
He takes a long pull of his beer, studying me across the table.
We've known each other since freshman year, shared a dorm room the size of a closet, survived hangovers and breakups and the general chaos of becoming adults.
He's seen me at my worst. But the look on his face now suggests this is uncharted territory even for us.
"What are you going to do?"
"Get to know my daughter." I shrug. "Amara can fight me all she wants, but June is mine. I'm not walking away from that."
Walt lets out a deep sigh. "Cassian."
"I missed five years, Walt. Five years of her life. First words, first steps, all of it. Because Amara assumed something that wasn't true and ran before giving me a chance to explain." My fist clenches around the glass. "I'm not missing another day."
"I get that. I do. But you need to think about how you approach this. Amara's scared. She built a life without you because she thought she had to. You can't just bulldoze your way in and expect her to roll over."
"I'm not bulldozing."
He gives me a knowing look.
"Okay, maybe I am. But what choice do I have? She won't talk to me. She slammed the door in my face after telling me I don't get to be June's father because I supposedly chose Raylin six years ago."
"Did you ever actually tell Raylin to fuck off?"
I hesitate. "Not in those exact words."
"Did you tell her you weren't interested?"
"Multiple times."
"But did you show her? Make it clear to everyone around you, including Amara, that Raylin meant nothing?"
The question makes me shut my eyes tight. Because no, I didn't. I let Raylin orbit, figured my indifference spoke for itself, assumed Amara would understand that my feelings for her were so obvious they didn't need to be stated.
"I was an idiot," I mutter.
"Yeah." Walt leans back, swirling his beer around. "But you didn't know Amara was pregnant. You didn't know she was carrying your kid and running because she thought you'd abandoned her. So while you were definitely an idiot, you weren't a malicious one."
Small comfort, I guess.
I stare into my scotch, watching light refract through amber liquid. Her face emerges in my memories.
"She's beautiful," I breathe out. "June. She's got these curls like Amara's, but she looks at you with my eyes and it's... I can't even describe it. Seeing her face and knowing she's mine. That I have a daughter. That this little person exists because of something Amara and I made together."
Walt's quiet for a long moment. He frowns slightly. "You really love Amara, don't you?"
"I never stopped."
"Even after years of nothing?"
"Of course." I meet his gaze. "I'm not giving up on this. I'll fight Amara every step of the way if I have to, but I'm not walking away."
"Raylin's going to lose her mind when she finds out."
That reminder irritates the hell out of me. Raylin. The woman who's been circling for years, waiting for me to finally notice her the way she wants to be noticed. The reason Amara left in the first place.
"I don't give a fuck about Raylin."
"You should. She's not the type to take rejection well. And now you're choosing the woman she sees as her rival. The woman who already 'won' once and then disappeared. Raylin's going to see this as a threat."
"Let her."
"Cassian, I'm serious. Raylin's connected. She's got money, influence, a whole network of people who owe her favors. If she decides to make trouble?—"
"Then I'll handle it. Raylin Hart is the reason I lost Amara in the first place. She spent months planting doubt, making Amara feel like she didn't belong, poisoning what we had. I should've shut that down years ago. I should've made it crystal clear that Raylin meant nothing and never would."
"And now?"
"Now I'm done being polite about it." I finish the scotch and slam the glass onto the table.
"If Raylin wants to come after me, fine.
But if she touches Amara or June, I'll destroy everything she's built.
I'll go scorched earth. I don't care who her father is or what favors people owe her.
She stays away from my family or I make her regret it. "
Walt whistles low, eyes widening slightly. "Damn. Okay then."
"You think I'm overreacting?"
"I think you're a man who just found out he has a kid he didn't know about and is willing to burn the world down to protect her." He raises his beer. "Respect."
I almost smile. Almost.
The server swings by again. I wave her off. Three scotches deep and I'm starting to feel the edges blur, which means it's time to stop before I do something stupid like show up at Amara's again.
"What's your next move?" Walt asks.
"I don't know yet. Amara won't talk to me.
She's terrified I'm going to swoop in and take June away, which is the furthest thing from what I want.
I just..." I trail off, searching for words that make sense of the chaos whirling around in my head.
"I want to be her father. I want to know her and make up for five years of missed birthdays and bedtime stories and all the little moments that make up a life. "
"Then you need to show Amara you're serious. Not with money or lawyers or any of that Griffin empire bullshit. With proving you're not going anywhere."
"She doesn't trust me."
"Because you haven't earned it yet, man. That's kind of a given. You'll earn it, I'm sure, but it's going to take time."
Time. The thing I don't have because every day that passes is another day June grows up without knowing I exist. Another day Amara convinces herself she's better off keeping me at arm's length.
My phone vibrates. I pull it out, half-expecting another text from Raylin. Instead it's a notification from my calendar. Black Lake design meeting tomorrow, nine AM.
I'd forgotten. The collaboration project, the whole reason I went to Sapphire Studios in the first place. Find disruptive artists, my father said. Reconnect with the culture.
Amara's work is exactly what he wants. Bold, uncompromising, emotionally brutal in the best way.
A collaboration between Black Lake and Sapphire Studios would be magnetic.
And it would give me a legitimate reason to be around her.
Not stalking, not showing up uninvited, but seeing her for business.
It would be impossible for her to dismiss it as some obsessive ex-boyfriend refusing to take no for an answer.
"I've been thinking about something," I admit quietly.
Walt eyes me warily. "Should I be worried?"
"Probably."
"Great."
I pocket my phone, lean back in the booth. The bar feels smaller now, the noise less overwhelming. My thoughts organize themselves into something resembling a plan.
"Black Lake needs an art collaboration. My father's been pushing for it for a while. And Amara's about to headline an exhibition at Sapphire Studios, one of the most respected contemporary art spaces on the East Coast."
"You want to work with her."
"I want to propose a partnership. Black Lake and Sapphire Studios, Amara's work inspiring a new clothing line. It's business. Legitimate business that benefits everyone involved."
"And gives you access to her."
"That too."
Walt shakes his head, but he's grinning. "You're insane."
"Maybe."
"She's going to see right through this."
"Sure, but she can't ignore it. Not if Katheryn Caldwell's on board, not if Black Lake's offering the money and exposure that could launch her career into the stratosphere.
" I meet his gaze. "And while we're working together, I prove to her that I'm serious.
That I'm not the guy who let Raylin circle unchallenged.
That I'm someone worth trusting with our daughter. "
Walt studies me for a long moment. Then he raises his beer again. "To questionable decisions and the stubborn bastards who make them."
I grab my water glass, clink it against his bottle. "I'll drink to that."
We sit in comfortable silence. The bar continues around us, oblivious to the fact that my entire world just shifted on its axis.
Tomorrow I'll call Katheryn Caldwell, pitch the collaboration, lay the groundwork for a plan that's equal parts business strategy and a desperate bid to stay in Amara's orbit.
But tonight, I let myself sit with the knowledge that I have a daughter. A beautiful, curly-haired little girl with my eyes and Amara's fearlessness. June. My daughter.
And no matter what it takes, no matter how hard Amara fights or how much Raylin schemes, I'm going to be part of her life.
That's a promise.