I clean until sweat trickles down my forehead and soaks my shirt, desperately trying to turn my brain off. I can’t get that feeling to leave, and it’s eating away at me. Around noon, the postman comes by, bringing a letter to the front door. I have to sign for it, even though it’s addressed to Travis. Once the postman leaves, I close the door and stare down at the large envelope in my hand.
DEPARTMENT OF CHILDREN AND FAMILY SERVICES.
For a minute my body goes rigid. All the hair on my arms stands up. Why in the world does Travis have a letter from DCFS? I know I shouldn’t, I know it is wrong, but I can’t stop myself. I bring my fingernail to the edge and open it. My heart is racing and my palms are sweating, as if I know what I’m going to find inside, even if I don’t want to admit it.
Inside is a bunch of papers stapled together, but it’s the first one that catches my eye. It’s a visitation schedule, and a sheet titled “AMBER PHOENIX.” The name punches me in the gut. Everything inside me stops as I stare at the bold print. Her birthdate, the address of her foster family, and the visitation schedule with her father, Travis Phoenix.
I am going to vomit.
My lips go dry.
He never told me. Not once. All the times we’ve been together, all the nights lying in bed confessing dumb things like childhood fears and bucket-list wishes, not once did Travis tell me he had a daughter. Not only that, but his daughter is nearly four years old. Which means he knew about her when he left. He knew.
I’m still sitting there when his truck rumbles up an hour later. I hear his boots, the door swinging open. He’s humming under his breath, like there isn’t a little girl sitting in a foster system. I hate him in that moment. I love him and hate him and want to rip the house apart.
He steps inside. Sees me with the envelope.
His face changes.
He must see the expression on my face, or maybe the tears streaking my cheeks. The smile drops off, replaced by a kind of blank, heavy stillness. He doesn’t even close the door behind him.
“What’s that?” he asks, his voice careful.
I get to my feet and thrust the papers at him when he’s close enough. Some of them scatter. “Want to explain?”
“You opened my mail?”
“You have a kid!” I scream the words, not meaning for my voice to break the way it does.
He drags a hand down his face, like he can wipe the whole scene away. “Violet—”
“You have a daughter, Travis. A daughter. And you never told me?” My voice is shaking, too loud, too wild. “All this time, you made me feel like we were starting new, like we were all in, but you have a kid in the system? What is wrong with you?”
He blinks hard, twice, then steps toward me, hands out like he’s about to grab something fragile. “I was going to. I was.But you have no idea what happened, okay? I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.”
I put my hands up, not letting him touch me. “Couldn’t what? Tell me the truth? Like every single person in my life?”
He takes a weary step back. “It was a one-night stand with a woman years ago. I didn’t know she was pregnant until she was nearly ready to give birth. She... her mother haemorrhaged during childbirth and passed away, Violet. I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t be a dad. I let the system take her. I let them take her because I couldn’t.”
My heart breaks into a thousand pieces.
“You left that baby alone?” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he barks. “I had no choice. I had no choice...”
“You had a choice,” I scream. “You left your child alone after her mother died. What is wrong with you?”
“God dammit, Violet,” he bellows. “It isn’t that easy. I was a wreck, I was going down a dark road, do you really think it would have been kind to let that poor kid come with me?”
He’s right, but at the same time, it still feels incredibly wrong.
“You could have told me, we could have done something together...”
“I didn’t know how,” he rasps. He’s crying now, rough streaks down his cheeks. “I just didn’t know what to do. So I got out of town and was never going to look back, but it ate at me. I am working with them now to get her back. I don’t want to fail her any longer. It’s why I came back.”
I cry out, and it’s so pained it hurts. “You lied to me. You continued to lie to me. You... asshole.”
He reaches for my hand, but I snatch it away.