He glares at me before he stares down at my phone again. “Show me that message.”
I hand him the phone. Let him read it. Hell, I’m happy for him to go through my messages and read every single one of them at this point. I have nothing to hide anymore.
Tiff:I read your letter. We need to talk. I’ll be on the St. Michael’s campus by the Summers’ building at 12 tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll see you there. Tiff.
Without warning, he steps aside and juts his chin forward. “Let's go.”
I blink, caught off guard. “What?”
“You think I’m letting you meet with her alone? Fuck that.” He spins and starts walking, muscles coiled tight, every step screaming don’t-test-me. “I’m coming with you.”
I stand there for half a second, stunned. “I don’t think that’s what Tiff had in mind—”
“I don’t give a shit what you think,” he snaps, turning around. “You want to talk to Tiff? Fine, but you’re doing it with me there, or not at all.”
It’s not how I pictured this moment going. Not even close. I imagined nervous stammering, maybe a hug from Ella if I was lucky. Tears if I wasn’t. Not a chaperoned walk of shame with my former rival glaring holes into the back of my head, but I’m notin a position to argue. Not when this might be the only opening I get.
“Fine,” I mutter, falling into step beside him, practically jogging to match his pace.
We’re halfway down the quad, walking in silence when I mutter, mostly to myself, “Feels like we’re going to a firing squad.”
Zach doesn’t look over. “Maybe you are.”
“Cool, cool. Should I walk ahead so you get a clean shot?”
No response.
Okay then.
So much for tension-breaking humor. I let out a dry exhale and keep my mouth shut, staring ahead as guilt coils tighter in my gut. I don’t blame him. Not for the silence, not for the suspicion, not even for the threat in his tone. I earned it. All of it.
My phone buzzes again. I don’t need to look to know who it is, but since I like the pain, I check it.
Father: You’ve just unleashed a world of hurt for that girl. I hope you’re happy.
I slide the phone back into my pocket without responding. Let him cut me off. Let him scream into his granite countertops about legacy and betrayal. The only betrayal I see is from him.
Besides, this is bigger than a bank account, and for the first time in a long time, I know exactly what I’m walking toward.
Chapter 11
Children bustle around me as we stand on the recreational soccer field, their voices high and bright as they toss a few footballs and chase each other. Ella squeezes my hand, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Can I go be like Uncle Zach, Mommy?” she asks.
“In a minute, baby,” I promise, scanning the park for what feels like the hundredth time. “Let's wait just a little longer, okay?”
“Okay.”
My nerves are shot as I smile at a few parents I’ve seen at other classes before, but I don’t go up to them. Today’s focus ison Jamie potentially meeting Ella. A thought that sends a shiver straight up my spine.
Am I happy about this? I have no idea. I’m definitely nervous, and I couldn’t sleep last night because I was agonizing over the decision.
Should I let her meet him? Yesterday, it felt like I had no other choice. The things he told me, the way he looked at me… I just… I couldn’t say no.
Family. He called her—me—his family, and as much as my brain is telling me to keep my guard up, my heart can’t.
All this time, I thought that night meant nothing to him. That I was just another notch on his belt and Ella was a minor inconvenience to him, but that’s not true. He came looking for us the second he could, and I can’t deny him the chance to meet his daughter, even if it terrifies me.