He nods.
“For fuck’s sake. Dane’s romance can’t be worth much mental energy.” I’ve met the man a few times, but he’s cold, not an ounce of compassion in his expression or voice. He actually comes off as sociopathic.
“It wasn’t about his romance.”
It slowly dawns on me. “Yours?”
Blake rolls his eyes. “It’s an old story. In any case, I could’ve said something without realizing it. But no, I don’t remember.”
“What the fuck. You should’ve told me this before.”
“I don’t want to even think about that time.”
“All of us have stuff we don’t want to think about.”
“Anyway,” Blake says, pointing the bottle at me, “here’s the advice. Make her tell you everything.”
“How’s that going to help?” What if she tells me something I’d rather not know? That she never thought I w
as good enough? Or maybe she thought I’d make a terrible father. After all, I’m a fuck-up. I might’ve gotten better over time, but…
I’m like a broken bowl—it can be put back together, but it’ll never be as good as it was before.
“You won’t be flying blind, for one thing. And there won’t be any way for someone like Faye to throw a Molotov cocktail into your relationship. Or, if you’re tired of Ava, this is the perfect time to end it. You can be the good guy here—the victim of her scheming ways.”
“I’m no fucking victim.”
As the words slip out of my lips, I realize that’s true. I don’t let my mother’s poisonous words chip away at me day and night like they used to. The main thing I’ve been thinking about since the day Ava came to my suite to mend our relationship is our future together—how I’m going to spoil her and treasure her, so she’ll never, ever lack for anything. Every smile from her, every contented sigh is a gift.
My phone rings. I pick it up, hoping it’s Ava calling. But no, it’s some unknown number. Who…?
“Hello?” I answer anyway. Just in case.
“Is this Lucas?”
I tense. It’s Ray. “Speaking.”
A soft clearing of the throat. “This is Ray McIntire. Am I interrupting anything?”
“Depends on what you got to say.” I haven’t forgotten the way he pulled Mia out of my reach. Bastard. “How did you get my number?”
“Ava gave it to me when you took her away for the weekend in Charlottesville. I insisted, since I didn’t quite trust you.”
“Did you think I’d kill her? Leave her body on the side of the road?”
There’s a stretch of silence that’s all too eloquent. Then he says, “Ava and Darcy left to do some shopping, and I wanted to talk to you without them listening.” He draws in air audibly. “Blame me.”
“For what?”
“Everything. Ava wanted to tell you about Mia, but I asked her not to.”
“Why?”
“I can’t lose my daughter.”
Anger erupts within me. I jump to my feet, my arm slashing the air. “She’s my daughter!”
“You weren’t even there!” Ray bellows. “Who do you think gave Ava the support and love she needed when she was alone and pregnant? It sure as hell wasn’t you!”