That was a lie; I knew that. And I knew that that was part of what I was so frustrated and angry about.
Even if I’d known about Ava, I probably would have done things the same way. With the possible exception of coming back to somewhere other than Boston. I just hadn’t been ready to handle it three years ago. Even three weeks ago, if she had told me straight up, when I first saw Harper again, I wasn’t sure that I would have been able to handle that knowledge. But I still didn’t know why she hadn’t told me. It wasn’t fair for her to keep that knowledge from me.
“You can’t just leave,” Harper said desperately, reaching out to grab my hand. “Come on, we just ordered. Our food will be here soon. Let’s talk about this. About Ava. You’re right, she is yours. Let’s talk about that.”
But I pulled away from her. “I’m not hungry,” I said shortly. “And I’ll talk to you soon. About Ava. But not right now.” With that, I turned and walked out the door.
For a moment, I stood there in the parking lot, fingering my keys. I shouldn’t drive now, not feeling like this. It was miles back to my place, but I started walking.
I half wondered if I was walking just to make it easier for Harper to follow me. But she didn’t chase after me, and to be honest, that was probably a good thing. I didn’t think I could handle talking civilly to her right now. I needed to calm down first.
Walking helped anyway. It gave me an outlet to work off the angry energy. And it gave me plenty of time to think things through. By the time I reached my place, I felt more depressed than anything else. I had thought that things were going so well with Harper, but now it seemed like she had never been treating it like a real relationship. It was like all she wanted was a few dates, a little bit of fun. When was she planning on breaking it off with me?
Or had that been the other part of what she wanted to tell me? I thought about the fact that she hadn’t called me all week. I doubted Ava had been sick for that long. And I knew Harper was busy, but she could have at least called to tell me that she was busy. Maybe she hadn’t told me Ava was mine because she was never intending for me to stick around.
She didn’t trust me. And sure, the guy that she’d met in Kuwait hadn’t been the most reliable dude. I had disappeared on her that first night together without even saying goodbye. I still felt guilty about that. But all the same. This was something bigger.
I was still more angry with myself than I was with her, though. I knew it must have been hard for Harper to tell me that Ava was my daughter. If nothing else, then because she must have been worried that I was going to be an ass. And now she probably thought that I had proven her worst fears. I hadn’t handled the news well; I had stalked out of there.
I remembered what she had said the other night, that for someone who never wanted kids, I’d make a good dad. She might have thought that then, but after what I’d just done, I knew she was probably rethinking it now. Maybe she wouldn’t let me near Ava ever again.
Could she do that? I had to wonder. I knew I could probably take her to court, sue for custody. But I couldn’t really do that. Ava was Harper’s whole world. She had given up her whole life for the sake of that child.
I felt guilty just thinking about that. Harper had had to give up everything. And she had never once asked me for anything. Except maybe to stay there, at the restaurant, and talk with her about Ava. About our daughter. And I had stormed out of there.
I swallowed hard, fingering my phone. I should call her, maybe. But I knew I was still too upset to handle talking rationally to her. No, I should wait until I had calmed down more.
But I still felt guilty about the whole situation.
31
Harper
By Saturday, I still hadn’t heard anything from Ace. Not since he had stormed out of the restaurant.
That whole situation hadn’t gone the way that I’d expected it to. I had wanted to just ease into it. I hadn’t realized that he already knew. And I felt terrible the way that he said it. Sadie had made the mistake of thinking that Ava was Ace’s daughter.
Wasn’t that all this whole thing was? Just a giant mistake. Or rather, one mistake after another. Getting pregnant had been a mistake; not telling Ace had been a mistake.
Or had it? I’d expected this anger. This was exactly why I hadn’t told him when I’d first found out that I was pregnant. It was exactly why I hadn’t told him even when he’d come back into our lives, there in Boston. Because I’d known that he didn’t really want to have kids.
As much as I’d tried not to get my hopes up, though, I realized that I’d started to picture a future together with them. Him and Ava. It had been surprisingly easy to picture that future together.
We’d move into a place together, the three of us. Ace and I would trade off chores and work schedules. Once Ava was in school, Ace would sit down with her and help her with her homework while I cooked dinner in the evenings. Or else I could picture Ace teaching Ava how to ride a bike or how to rollerblade. All the things that a dad was supposed to do.
I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face. “Mama feels yucky?” Ava asked, padding out into the living room, where I was curled up on the couch in my pajamas despite the fact that it was nearly afternoon.
“Mama feels yucky,” I agreed, letting Ava think that I was sick, just like she had been. In reality, my ailment was much worse and more difficult to cure, but I needed to wallow. I just wished I had thought to have the cab driver stop at the store on the way home from the restaurant. I could have used some chocolate or ice cream or other junk food.
Not that I deserved it. I had done a shitty thing in refusing to tell Ace the truth. He was exactly right when he’d accused me of lying to him the whole time that we’d been dating. I deserved for him to be angry at me. If he never spoke to me again, except where Ava was concerned, I deserved that. This was my penance.
There was a knock on the front door, and I groaned. But with Ava watching me with concern, I knew that I had to answer it. I padded out there in my bare feet.
It was just the mailman, but he had a package for me. I scribbled my signature on the line and accepted it, trying to think what it could be. I didn’t think I had ordered anything recently. The box wasn’t very heavy either. Maybe Mom had ordered something when she’d been staying there? Something that she’d noticed I needed?
I took the box inside. It was addressed to me, so I’d better just open it and see what it was.
I swallowed hard when I saw: it was a DNA test.