He stared at me. “She’s their flesh and blood, Carys. I have no right to keep her from them.”
“What did you say to them?”
“I told them the truth, that when Mommy and Daddy were apart, I fell in love with a beautiful woman and we made a baby together. I showed them the one photo of Sunny I have, one Simone posted on social media. And I told them about her, about what Down syndrome is, about the mistakes I made in handling everything. And I apologized to them, just as I’m apologizing to you right now.”
My mind raced. “This is too much.”
“I know it is. But I had to tell you. I’m done being a disappointment to you and to myself. I needed to do what was right. My name may not be on her birth certificate, but I am her father, Carys. I will always be her father.”
I felt sick. He didn’t deserve a second chance, but Sunny had no other father figure in her life. Her biological father now wanted that role. I didn’t want to make a decision she’d be upset about later.
“So what are you expecting from me?” I asked.
“It doesn’t have to go from zero to a hundred. I just want you to meet me from time to time. Once a month, maybe, to start. I want her to know me, even if she thinks I’m just a friend. Eventually, I want my kids to meet her. I know I have a lot of work to do to earn your trust. And I plan to do whatever it takes.”
CHAPTER 23
Carys
NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN
Over the next six weeks or so, Charles proved he hadn’t been kidding when he’d vowed to earn my trust back. I appreciated that he was letting me call the shots on his reentrance into my life, though.
In addition to abiding by a visitation schedule, he’d also begun depositing money more regularly in my bank account. I’d never refused his occasional offerings, but now that he wasn’t doing everything behind Violet’s back, he’d set up a direct deposit each month. I wasn’t going to complain. Sunny deserved his support.
We’d agreed on a twice-a-month visitation schedule for starters. I gave him a few hours on Saturdays. We’d take Sunny out, and she was slowly taking to him, offering occasional smiles and responses to his endless efforts to make her laugh. It was noticeably different than her immediate attachment to Deacon had been, though.
Charles hadn’t insisted on using the term dad around her, and I was grateful. He referred to himself as Charles, and it was my strong opinion that for the foreseeable future, things should remain that way,
One chilly but sunny Saturday in January, Charles and I took Sunny to a toy store and then to get a treat. It was too cold for ice cream, but Sunny had seen the sign for the shop with the giant ice cream cone flag and wouldn’t stop pointing to it.
After, we ended up in Bryant Park, and I spotted Deacon’s friend Adrian at a table with a woman. We were about to walk past them. I wanted to turn around and go the other direction, but I didn’t want to explain anything to Charles, so I forced myself to keep moving. I had no idea if Adrian would even look up or recognize me.
But sure enough, just as we moved past him, his eyes met mine. He squinted into the sun, holding his hand to his forehead like a visor. “Carys?”
I feigned surprise and smiled. “Hey!”
“Not sure if you recognize me. I know we only met once. I’m Deacon’s friend Adrian?” He smiled.
“Of course, I recognize you. How have you been?”
“I’ve been good.” He turned to Charles. “And you are?”
“I’m Charles.” He held out his hand. “Sunny’s father.”
As they shook, shock registered on Adrian’s face. I had an urge to explain the situation, but why? What did it matter if he drew the wrong conclusion about this? I didn’t owe him—nor Deacon—any explanation.
Adrian bent to look down at Sunny in her stroller. “This must be the famous Sunny.”
Sunny took to Adrian right away, flashing an amused smile as she devoured her ice cream cone. My heart raced as I wondered whether he’d bring up his MIA friend.
Instead, Adrian simply nodded once and said, “Well, it was nice to see you again.”
“You, too,” I said.
Relief flooded through me. Adrian likely knew the deal. There was no reason to bring up what happened. Had a part of me wanted to ask him how Deacon was doing? Yes. But ultimately, I wasn’t prepared for the answer. I didn’t want to hear that he was dating again or had moved on in any way. That would’ve been too damn painful.
“Who was that?” Charles asked as we walked away. “You seemed tense just now.”