8. Luke
The little girl has green eyes that are the exact shade as Olivia’s.
It’s the first thing that catches my eye before I notice that she’s dressed in the cutest little pajama ensemble with sheep dotting it. Then I return to her gaze, which is locked on mine and openly curious.
I open my mouth, then close it. Before I can say anything, Olivia steps back inside her house, worry etched all over her features as she approaches the girl who looks like her and kneels to the girl’s height.
“Honey, are you feeling better? Do you feel dizzy?”
The hand on the girl’s forehead immediately clues me in on what might be wrong with her, but the girl shakes her head.
“I feel better, Mom. I was really hot earlier, but Nancy took care of me.”
Olivia’s shoulders sag in relief. “Oh, good. Do you want anything? Or do you want to go back to sleep?”
Instead of answering, the girl’s eyes flicker back to me. “Who is that, Mom?”
I watch as Olivia tenses and I wait for the excuses to come. Instead, she addresses the question softly.
“This is a guest, Riley. I work with him.”
“Oh.” Those eyes don’t waver. “What’s his name?”
“Luke. My name is Luke.”
It comes out on instinct, and I don’t even know why I’m answering on behalf of Olivia. But it’s too late to take it back. The girl named Riley nods.
“Hello, Luke. It’s nice to meet you.”
It’s so polite and sweet, with a touch of sleepiness. I nod back, my throat dry. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
I appear calm and collected, but inside, I’m reeling.
She has a daughter. Olivia has a daughter and never told me, and now a million questions run through my head. Since when did she have a daughter?
Was she married? Is she divorced? Is the father still in the picture?
Why the hell didn’t she tell me any of this?
Then I notice Olivia turning her head slightly so that only I can see the look on her face. It’s a pleading one, desperately begging me to keep the questions at bay. I’m so tempted to interrogate her right now, but I’m still reeling, and she’s right—whatever discussion needs to happen shouldn’t take place in front of this child.
So I follow her lead.
“Is she sick?”
Olivia hesitates, then nods. “Fever earlier. It’s down now.”
Now her running away just like that makes more sense. “I see.”
An awkward silence ensues. Riley interrupts it.
“Are you a medical assistant, Luke?”
I shake my head. “I’m a doctor. Your mom and I work in the same hospital. Same office, too.”
Riley nods solemnly, then yawns and leans her head against her mother’s shoulder.
“Mom, I’m tired. Can I sleep again?”
“Sure, sweetie.”
“Can you take me to bed?”
“Of course.”
Riley glances at me again. “See you later, Mr. Luke.”
“See you later.” Then I glance at Olivia. “Go ahead and put her to bed. I’ll wait here.”
“You can go?—”
“No. I’ll wait here.”
Her eyes flash like she wants to argue. I know she wants to kick me out. But I stay where I am, rising to her challenge without a word—because I am sure as hell not leaving this place until we clear this up.
Eventually, she has to put her daughter first. She stands back up and picks the girl up, the two murmuring to each other as they head toward what I assume is Riley’s bedroom. Silence follows, but I stay on the doorstep, giving myself time to think things through.
Eventually, I conclude that Olivia would not have had anyone like she had me, not with the way she responded to my touch. I would know. I return to that moment, my body reacting to the memory of it alone.
Then Riley’s face repeatedly flashes in my mind, her solemn and sweet voice nagging at me for some reason. It mixes with Olivia’s words until a couple of lines push through.
How long has it been since you’ve had sex?
Seven years.
Disbelief slams in and twists in my gut, then pretty much coats my entire body. My blood runs cold as that particular memory solidifies, ringing over and over until it feels like I’m going insane. She couldn’t have been lying, and there is still a chance that the kid was from a relationship she had before that night at the bar, but…
A figure steps out of the bedroom quietly and I look up in time to meet Olivia’s gaze. Just like that, I know.
“Is that her bedroom?”
She puzzles over my question, but she shakes her head. “No. This is the guestroom. Her bedroom’s upstairs, but it’s easier to keep track of her while she’s sick here. Easier to meet her needs, too, with the kitchen nearby.”
“Is she asleep?”
She nods and approaches me. She opens her mouth, but I’m relentless.
“How old is she, Liv?”
Silence. When she answers, her voice is small and resigned.
“She turned six a few months ago.”
And when I consider the timing, counting by years and months, it was about seven years ago that Olivia and I had sex before the office sex earlier. I don’t even need to ask.
I know.
“Riley is my daughter.”
Her lower lip trembles, then steadies. “Yes.”
I’m still so shocked that I can’t even think straight. But my anger boils, too, a strong shot that snaps in my blood.
“So, I had a daughter all this time and you decided to keep her a secret.”
Her shoulders stiffen. “I didn’t. I didn’t know how to contact you, remember?”
I glare at her. “I’m talking about now, Liv. When we saw each other again. When we interacted the last few weeks in my office.” I take a step forward, unable to help it. “When you let me take you in that damn file room.”
More moments come to me, from her refusing to let me take her home to avoiding me like the plague sometimes. My fury escalates until she speaks again.
“I didn’t trust you. I didn’t even know if you would want to know?—”
“She’s my goddamn daughter. Of course, I would want to know. I have every right to know?—?”
“You weren’t there.”
The statement stops me. Amid the anger, I try to brush off the fogginess to see her more clearly. When I do, I’m taken aback by her stricken, vulnerable expression.
“What?”
“You weren’t there,” she repeats, her hands fisting at her sides. “That’s all I could remember. I know it’s not your fault now and it was a misunderstanding, but during that time, I thought you made a fool out of me…and that thought fueled me for the rest of the years. I was alone, but I was determined to make it work and provide everything for her on my own. And I did it. You can’t take that away from me.”
Damn it. It’s just words, but why is it that my heart aches as I imagine what she must have been through? Despite that, the fury still doesn’t relent and I have to take a deep breath.
“I didn’t say I’m taking that away from you. All I’m saying is that you should have told me the moment you saw me…because whether I could have been a part of her life or not, it should have been my decision.”
She opens her mouth, but I can tell she knows I’m right. Still, a stubborn layer clings to her, preventing her from inviting me inside the house. That’s fine.
I won’t push it now, but I’ll let her know one thing.
“I want to get to know my daughter and be a part of her life…no. I will get to know my daughter and be a part of her life, Liv. You can’t take that away from me, either.”
For the first time, I see the emotion she’s been hiding all this time: a glimmer of fear. My protective instincts come to the surface, wanting to reach out and wrap my arms around her. But I’m hurt, too, and I don’t want to hurt her when I lash out with it.
I know where she’s coming from. At the same time, I can’t just accept it. So I take a step back, give her one final nod, and keep talking.
“But not now. She needs rest. So do you.”
When she doesn’t respond, I turn and walk away, my shoulders stiffening when I hear the quiet click of her front door. I glance one more time at the house before driving away, my mind a jumbled mess.
I have a child…a daughter. I had one all this time and never knew, and it’s something that will always eat at me. But now I know, and now I can’t help my heart from swelling and my insides from tumbling.
Because I created a life without my knowledge and that’s a big deal.
I know we used condoms, but I know Olivia isn’t lying. Her reaction to my exposure to the truth is the only confirmation that I need. And now?
Now I have to work off this anger and the resentment that’s bubbling in my throat, no matter how the rational side of me tells me that she has her reasons, too.
Because there’s a child involved now, and hurting her is the last thing I ever want to do.
And yes, because no matter my anger, I still want Olivia.