“I’m sorry,” she said softly as she leaned into my embrace. “I’m so sorry.”
I looked over at Rory and saw that some of his anger had drained away, most likely at the realization that she’d been right. We hadn’t been in a place to help her. And whether we liked it or not, she’d been in a tough position and had been forced to make difficult choices. I didn’t care if Lily was actually mine or Rory’s. A Bridgewater child belonged to both fathers, regardless of DNA. The government wouldn’t have seen it that way, but that didn’t matter.
We might still have our issues with Ivy and the way she’d handled things back then, but there was one thing I was clear on. One thing I knew without asking that Rory would agree with.
I pushed Ivy back slightly so I could look down into her tear-filled blue eyes. “We need to see her, Ivy. We want to meet our daughter. We aren’t eighteen anymore heading off to boot camp. We’re back for good. We’re with you—and Lily—for good.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
RORY
Cooper drove, Ivy sitting up front beside him so we didn’t get lost in the endless maze of cul-de-sacs and tree lined streets in her picturesque Seattle suburb.
My foot kept bouncing as we drew further and further into the labyrinth of ranch-style homes and closer and closer to our daughter.
Our daughter.
Since the rental car was short on leg room, my knee kept hitting the back of Cooper’s seat.
“Would you quit it? You’re making me nervous,” Cooper said.
“Then join the club,” I muttered. I wasn’t too macho to admit that I was nervous. Hell, I was scared shitless. We had a fucking daughter. The phrase had been repeating on a loop since the moment we found out. It was like my brain thought that if it repeated the phrase enough, it would suddenly register and make sense.
It wasn’t working. No amount of repetition would make this feel real. Maybe once we saw her—Lily— I could wrap my head around it. But seeing her was what made me want to take a nose dive out of this moving car.
I didn’t know many kids. I never had siblings growing up and I didn’t have any friends with little ones now. The army didn’t cater to children. I didn’t even know how to interact with a random child, let alone a girl who was either my daughter by blood or my daughter by adoption. Either way, she was mine, and now that I knew she even existed, there was no way in hell I was letting her go.
Some residual anger threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed it aside. I might not like the choices that Ivy made back then, but when she gave us some time alone to talk while she took a shower in our hotel room—no fucking way were we letting her leave without us—Cooper helped me to see just how scared she must have been back then.
Eighteen and pregnant. Alone. Her grandmother had died soon after we left. She’d given up college, at least for a few years. She’d only had her aunt for support.
It was easy to say now that she’d made the wrong choice by not getting in touch with us, but there was no way we could put ourselves in that position. We were guys and never had to think about it, but fuck. What would I have done in a similar situation? Would I have held her back from her dream of college and a teaching career?
Logically, I knew I couldn’t judge. Still, logic wasn’t exactly ruling the roost at the moment. I looked at the back of her blonde head, saw the way she kept her chin up when her world had changed with our arrival. It showed me how brave she was. Fuck, she’d always been brave. I was going to face a six-year-old and I was ready to hurl. Rocket propelled grenades I could handle, but a child I’d made? I swallowed hard.
“Do you think she’ll like us?” I asked.
Stupid question, but I couldn’t help myself. Cooper gave a noncommittal shrug. He’d been getting quieter and surlier as we drove. I had no idea what was going on in that head of his, but I had a feeling it wasn’t good. He hadn’t had a nightmare
with Ivy in his arms, thank fuck, but I had to hope seeing Lily wouldn’t put him in a tailspin. Ivy’s silence was even more disturbing. Was she as afraid of us meeting Lily as we were? Did she think Lily wouldn’t like us?
Before I could ask any more stupid questions, Ivy told Cooper to park on the street in front of her house. It had been dark out when we’d picked her up the night before and now I could take in the picture-perfect setting. It was a white house two-story with black trim and red front door. The street was tree-lined and every lawn was neatly cut with perfectly pruned hedges. A child’s bike was casually left out on the neighbor’s front yard indicating families lived here. This wasn’t just a house, but a home. A home with a six-year-old. “Looks like you’ve done well for yourself, sweets.”
I didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but some of the resentment and anger from earlier had slipped into my voice, making the simple statement sound churlish. Shit. I ran my hand over my face with regret, but didn’t apologize.
It was no wonder she responded in a defensive tone and only flicked me with her gaze before looking away. “It’s my great aunt’s house. When I found out I was pregnant, Aunt Sarah asked me to move in with her. Since my grandma had just passed, I had nowhere else to go.”
Fuck. I was such an ass and the way Cooper looked over his shoulder at me, he agreed. If we weren’t about to meet our daughter, he’d probably punch me in the face.
Rationally, I knew she didn’t have to justify herself to me, but I wanted to understand. I needed to know everything that had happened back then. She’d told us why she hadn’t come to us, but she’d never said what made her think we wouldn’t be good for Lily. She was six, plenty of time for her to let us know, and if we hadn’t shown up out of the blue, I doubted she would have ever told us. We never would have known our little girl looked just like her mother. “You could have come to us.” I’d said it before, but I felt like I had to say it again, to let her know we wouldn’t have abandoned her.
I heard her sigh as she opened her door. Cooper climbed out of the car and went around to her and I followed suit. She didn’t look at me as she led the way up the path to her porch. Halfway there, she spun on her heel and surprised me. “Maybe you’re right.” She looked me in the eye, lifted her chin. From her perch on the step, she was almost at eye level and her lips were pressed into a thin line. For the first time, I realized just how hard this must be for her, too. “Maybe that’s what I should have done.”
But she hadn’t. That part went unsaid, but her point was clear. Whether it was right or wrong, it was done. I glanced up at the door we were rapidly approaching and those goddamn nerves threatened to eat me alive.
“If you guys could just—” She shoved a lock of hair back behind her ear and let out a long exhale. “If you could just let me do the talking, that would be great.”
I looked to Cooper and knew he what he was thinking. No problem. Neither of us knew what to say to this kid. Our kid. As far as I was concerned, Ivy could run this show until I wasn’t scared so shitless.