Jett #2
“Why would I ever be okay with this?” I ask him.
“You’ve never taken anything or anyone seriously.
Why should I believe you’ll take my daughter seriously?
For a decade—a decade—I’ve heard you in the locker room talking about women like they’re objects.
Like they’re nothing but punchlines to your immature, ridiculous, sexist jokes. ”
He starts to talk, but Kennedy cuts him off, giving me a long, passionate speech about how loving and kind Daylen is. How he selflessly looks after her. How he’s the mature one in their relationship. How loved and protected he makes her feel.
“Haven’t you seen changes in me this year?” she asks me.
I consider her question. She’s right. She has matured a lot this year. And softened.
She continues, “I’m working so damn hard on being a better version of me, and Daylen is a big part of that.
You can’t imagine how many times I’ve questioned my ability to be a good mother since I found out about the baby.
I didn’t have one. I’m fucking terrified.
” She places her finger on his chest. “This guy, this guy right here, he gives me validation every minute of every day. He sees the good in me on the days I can’t find it in myself.
He tells me what a great mother he thinks I’ll be when I can’t see it in myself.
There is no one, no one, I would want to do this with other than him.
I think he’s going to be the most amazing father because he’s such a natural caregiver.
No one has ever taken better care of me.
No one loves harder than him. Our child and I are so damn lucky to have him. ”
She looks at him lovingly before looking back at me with glassy eyes.
“For the first time in my life, someone quiets the chaos always churning through my brain. I’m not saying this to hurt you, Dad, but I’ve always felt so damn alone.
I’ve never had anyone to lean on. I’ve always had to take care of myself because no one else was there to do it for me.
Daylen is the man who says to me, ‘I know you can do it by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore.
’ He makes my doctor’s appointments, he makes sure I’m eating well, he cooks for me, he supports me, he makes me feel seen, and,” she looks at him, “he makes me feel like I matter. Daylen Humblecut is the biggest green flag to ever exist, and I was a fool to ever think otherwise.”
Guilt washes over me. My daughter has felt alone because of me. Because I was a horrible father. My strong, independent daughter just wants someone to take care of her, and I couldn’t do that for her, so she ran into the arms of the first man who would. This is my fault. I’m so ashamed of myself.
I sit and stew in self-pity while the two of them share a tender moment as he wipes her tear-filled face.
I’m staring into space, thinking about what a mess my life is, when Kennedy mentions it was a very worried Fallon who alerted her to my coming to confront Daylen. She then suggests I call her to let her know I’m okay.
The shitshow that is my life washes over me as I sadly admit, “Fallon and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“What?” she yells. “Why?”
I can’t take this fucked up situation anymore. Everything in my life is falling apart.
Standing so quickly I stumble and my chair falls back, I yell back, “I don’t owe you an explanation of my love life, Kennedy.
Considering you got married and pregnant without so much as a mention of it all to me, I don’t need to share anything with you.
” I take a few deep breaths but still can’t breathe properly.
“I need to get out of here. I can’t handle this. ”
She stands and shakes her head, “You’re not sober. You can’t drive. It was irresponsible of you to drive here.”
My jaw tics. “Don’t tell me what to do like I’m a child.”
“You’re acting like a fucking child,” she replies, “so I will tell you what to do. I’ll lie down in front of your car before letting you drive right now.
You’re not going anywhere. When you sober up, you can go and apologize for whatever you did to Fallon.
Don’t fuck things up with her. She’s the best thing to ever happen to you. ”
My throat clogs with emotion. It’s too late. Everything is already fucked up with Fallon. It’s over. I have nothing and no one. I’m going to die alone while my daughter is saddled with a baby and an absentee, philandering husband.
Daylen tries to defuse the situation by offering to drive me home, which he does. On the way, he apologizes for my finding out the way I did but says he’s happy I finally know. He gives me a long, passionate speech about how much he loves her and that he would even if she weren’t pregnant.
He asks for my blessing to propose to her properly so they can have a real wedding.
As if any of that matters now. She’s already married and pregnant.
I know firsthand that pregnancy before love isn’t a winning combination.
It’s history repeating itself in our family.
It’s like a family curse. First my parents, then me, and now my perfect daughter.
He goes on and on about how he plans to support her career.
While I can admit Daylen seems sincere, I know the odds aren’t in their favor.
I have nothing left to do but give my blessing.
What’s the alternative? Being cut out of her life again?
I don’t think I could handle that. At least I know she’ll stay in Philly now.
Daylen has an airtight contract for the next several years.
He’s not going anywhere. They’re not going anywhere.