“I’m not saying that, Ryder. I’m just letting you know that with rights there are responsibilities, that’s all.”
I nodded feeling like an ass for jumping on her. “I want to take care of my child. Is there anything I can do now?”
“Is there a reason you’re concerned?”
I shook my head. The truth was, I just wanted an acknowledgment that I was the father. That I was significant to this child. To Trina.
“But I’d feel better if I could have something. Can’t you make some sort of official document that I can sign?”
She smiled sympathetically. “I’m a lawyer, I draw up all sorts of documents, but it’s not needed with the other options you have.”
“Okay.”
“Perhaps by then, you and the mother will be on a more even keel.”
I was royally pissed at Trina right now, but over time, I’d have to let that go. I’d need to find a way to be around her in a civil way for the good of my child.
I stood. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing now. Come back in eight months and we’ll review.”
“Thanks, Jeannette.”
I left her office and headed to the Salvation Station to start my shift. It would be my first as a partial owner. I should have been excited, but I felt like I was living in a heavy haze. I was sluggish and it seemed like all the color had left the world.
The next evening, I had a band practice for the upcoming Harvest Festival. They razzed me about playing for Stark, but thankfully weren’t angry about it. I considered the fact that Stark paid me a shitload of money, some of which would have been theirs if we’d gone as a band. They didn’t mention that, and I hoped it was because none of them would have agreed to the gig. I was the greedy asshole of the group.
The next day, I was on the night shift at the bar, and I did my best to be my same old self, but it was hard. When the after-dinner rush was over, I headed to the manager’s office to hide out.
A knock on my door had my heart doing a flip in hopes it was Trina. As I stood to get the door, I told my heart to shut the fuck up. It wouldn’t be her, and if it was, I didn’t want to see her.
I opened the door. “Sinclair.” See, not Trina.
She studied me. “Everyone is right. You look like shit. What happened?”
I turned away from the door and sat in my desk chair. “Just a lot going on.”
She sat in one of the other chairs in the office. “Bullshit.” She cocked her head to the side and her eyes turned worried. “I’m concerned, Ryder. It’s not like you to be like this. Did something happen with Trina?”
“No.” That was the problem, wasn’t it? Nothing happened with Trina, when I’d been ready to give her everything. I turned away and picked up a pencil mostly to look busy.
“Ryder. Please talk to me. I know it’s usual for me to be the listener and you the talker when all our lives you’ve been the one to be there for me. But I can see something’s wrong. Let me help. At least let me listen.”
I dropped the pencil and ran my hands over my face. “She thinks I’m a fucking loser.”
“Who? Trina?”
I nodded. “I don’t know why I thought I’d change her opinion of me.”
Sinclair’s eyes turned angry. “What did she do?”
“She told me I was a womanizer who was wasting my life and didn’t have what it took to be a good father.”
Sinclair shook her head, and I could see her anger churning up. “Why is she such a bitch sometimes?”
I suspected her upbringing had something to do with it, but I was tired of defending her.
“Did you tell her about the work on the house?”