It was a horrible fucking day.

I leaned against the house and continued. “She found a picture of you. When I told her she didn’t have a daddy, she asked if she could pretend it was you. She loves that damn picture so much.” I wrung my hands nervously as I spoke. “I thought I’d never see you again, so I let her pretend. She has the picture hanging above her bed. She says ‘goodnight, Daddy’ to you every night and kisses the picture before she goes to sleep. It breaks my heart every fucking time.” I wiped at the tears I didn’t realize had sprung from my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I never thought…” I slid down the side of the house until my ass reached the concrete. I pulled my knees up to my chest.

When he lifted his face from his hands and looked up at me, the anger was back in full force. “So why hasn’t that cocksucker been a father to her? Why aren’t you guys together raising her? Where the fuck is that pretty-boy motherfucker?” A thick vein throbbed in his neck. His eyes were dark and wide, they shone with each angry word.

“Jake! You’re going to wake her up.”

“Fuck this shit.” He stood and started walking back into the darkness from where he’d appeared not long before.

“Wait!” I called after him. I stood up, but didn’t follow him. He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “You never answered my question. Why do you care who her father is? You were the one who didn’t believe in me, or in us. You were the one who left. So, why does it even matter to you now?”

I was sure I already knew. I just needed to hear him say it.

“Because—” He cut himself off and started walking again. Just when I thought it would remain a mystery forever, he stopped again, and turned to face me. “Because I wanted it to be me, Bee.”

With that, he disappeared behind the side of the house.

I fell. My ass crashed into the paver deck. I let my head fall back onto the siding of the house. “I did, too,” I whispered to no one. One tear fell, and then another, until I couldn’t control the flow. “I did, too.”

It was quiet a while before I pried myself up off the patio and headed back into the house. I checked on Georgia and found her still asleep, her chest rising and falling evenly, her doll still suffocated at her side. Our argument hadn’t woken her.

Had it been an argument, a fight?

It was the best fight I’ve ever had. Jake’s words from years ago played in my brain.

I made sure all of the doors were locked and went room to room to turn off the lights. It had been the longest day of my life. All I wanted to do was try and get some sleep, although I doubted it was even a possibility. My mind was still reeling over what he’d said. He’d been hoping he was Georgia's dad. The thought made my stomach turn and my heart flutter all at the same time.

Several times during the night, I contemplated telling Jake just how Owen came to be Georgia’s father. But then, I asked myself if his knowing the truth would change anything. I had no idea, and it just wasn’t me I had to think about anymore. I had a daughter by another man. Jake hadn’t trusted me or loved me enough to ignore the gossip four years ago, and according to the events of the evening, that hadn’t changed.

I reached for the switch under the kitchen cabinet to turn off the lights when my eyes landed on a newspaper clipping stuck to the top of the refrigerator. It hadn’t been there earlier in the day. The letter magnets Georgia liked to play with were pinning it to the front the fridge. Someone had spelled out the word LOVE with them. I didn’t even need to read the article. The headline was enough for me to know who left it, and why:

ONE-EYED MAN FOUND SHOT

AND DISMEMBERED IN SWAMP

I remembered his words from the one and only night we’d ever had sex, when I’d told him about the man who I’d stabbed in the eye with a shard of glass in my mother’s house: I need to know if you would like it if I put him to ground for you.

I had told him yes then.

I read the rest of the article and clutched it to my chest. After the initial shock of it all, a kind of warmth spread throughout my body, and I knew without question.

I would have said yes all over again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I HADN’T SEEN OR HEARD FROM JAKE since the night we argued. A few weeks passed, but I knew he was still in town. I’d seen his bike parked at the apartment occasionally. He never came to work at the shop. I wondered why he was still there. Frank was dead and buried. Reggie and I were keeping the shop running smoothly, but ultimately, we were waiting for Jake to decide what his plans were for Dunn’s Auto Repair.