The truth is in there.
Separated by a thick white envelope is the answer to my future, to Sadie’s future.
I want her to be mine more than I ever thought I would.
I never wanted to be a father, but I want to be Sadie’s father.
The thing came weeks ago. I’ve done nothing but stare at it, hoping one of these days I can summon the strength to see what’s inside.
Odessa barges in the bathroom, rifling through my drawers for her strawberry red toothbrush. The one she constantly accuses me of hiding and the one I constantly accuse her of misplacing.
“What’s that?” She stops yanking on drawers when she spots the white envelope. “You didn’t tell me that came in the mail. Oh, my God. Are you going to open it?”
She sweeps her dark, fiery hair from her face and ties it on top of her head, leaning against the vanity.
“Don’t know.” I swipe the envelope and trace my finger along the seam.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Her green eyes flash wild. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to know?”
“Got a call from Dr. Brentwood yesterday.” I stare ahead at my tired expression. I swear to God I’ve aged ten years in the last two months.
She folds her arms, studying me, waiting in patient silence.
“Apparently Eva has been out of the hospital for a couple weeks now. She made some indication during treatment that she wishes to relinquish her parental rights to Sadie.”
Odessa pops up, her hands covering her smiling lips. “That’s a good thing, right?”
My mouth hardens. “She told Dr. Brentwood that she was fired from the fertility clinic for tampering with medical records.”
“So what does that mean then? Sadie has to be yours.”
“The timeline doesn’t add up.” I fight the choking sensation in my throat as heat creeps up to my ears. “The pregnancy, the due date. Sadie had to have been conceived after she was fired.”
She closes the space between us, her hand resting on my tensed forearm. Odessa hesitates for a moment before pressing her cheek against my arm. She’s a fool for thinking she can comfort me.
“If Eva doesn’t want Sadie.” Constriction in my chest makes it hard to breathe. “And she’s not mine biologically…”
“Don’t say it.” Odessa pulls away, dragging her fingers over my lips.
I have to say it. This is reality. This is real life. Running from the hard truth isn’t an option.
“I don’t know if the court will let me adopt her. I’m just some random asshole Sadie’s mother once fucked.”
“You’re so much more than that, Beck. You’re Sadie’s father. Biologically or not. You’re the only father she’s known. The only person who came to her rescue when she needed someone the most.”
“You make it sound poetic,” I huff.
“It’s a beautiful thing, the bond you two have.”
I shake my head. “How the hell am I going to prove to a family court judge that a two month old is bonded to me? It’s not like she can walk in there and ramble on about our late night feedings.”
Her lips twist into a bittersweet smile. I hope to God she doesn’t cry. Her strength is what keeps me upright most days.
“What if they say she’d be better off with a mom and a dad?” Every worst possible outcome floods my mind all at once.
Odessa’s gaze falls to the floor and then back at me. “I know I’m not her mother, but I’d be honored to be that mother figure in her life. You know, if you’re so convinced the judge is going to go that route. You have me. She has me.”
“That’s a big commitment.”
“I know.”
“You’d do that for her?”
She exhales, her hand lifting to her chest. “Of course, Beck.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ODESSA
I’m in love.
It came softly and unexpectedly, but I couldn’t escape it if I tried. This is the kind of love that lasts a lifetime; the kind that defines you and brings out the deepest parts of your heart you never knew were there.
I’m not her mother, but I love her the same.
Leaning over Sadie’s stroller, I melt when I catch a hint of a baby smile. She turned two months last week. Beckham acted like he didn’t want to make a fuss about it, but I made him take a couple dozen pictures with her anyway. He doesn’t say it, but he’s still afraid to get too attached.
We both know it’s far too late for that.
I rake a pink pacifier across her rose-hued lips until she latches on, and I lift a muslin blanket up to her belly before pushing on. The Saturday morning June air is just beginning to warm. Dane and Bellamy are in the city visiting Beckham, so I offered to take Sadie for a stroll around Central Park so the three of them could have a nice brunch at a restaurant that doesn’t have high chairs and complimentary wet naps.
The stroll is leisurely, the fresh air cleansing. We needed this. May was much too rainy, and Sadie was cooped up far too long.
Joggers pass us, and families, and little old ladies walking dogs. Sadie stirs, her arms fidgeting as she spits out her paci. She needs a break from the stroll. Ahead I spot an empty park bench, pushing her toward it and stepping on the lock before lifting her into my arms.
She glances around, her dark eyes wide. I’m not sure how much she can see, but Sadie appears to be taking in as much as she can.
“Much different than your nursery, huh?” I kiss her cheek, breathing in her powdery lavender scent.
“Your daughter is beautiful.” An older woman in head to toe neon green Nike powerwalks past me with a wide grin, her eyes moving from Sadie to me and back.
“Thank you.” I nod.
She feels like mine, even if she’s not.
Cradling her in my arms, I study her face. I can’t decide if she looks like Beck or not. Sometimes I see it in her expressions. He still won’t open the envelope, and it’s not my place to push him.
Another temporary custody hearing is tomorrow, sparked by the fact that Eva signed away her parental rights. Beckham’s been a moody mess since last week, each day worse than the one before.
Losing Sadie would destroy him. I refuse to believe it’s going to happen.
Sadie smiles up at me, wrapping her fingers around my pinky. I make faces and tickle her beneath her chin until her legs get to kicking. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
After playing for a bit, her tongue begins to click against her lips. She’s hungry. Pulling her diaper bag from beneath her stroller, I mix up a bottle, lean back on the bench, and feed her.
Sadie watches me intently, her belly filling by the second, and I squeeze in a bit of people watching. A twenty-something couple amble past, fingers intertwined, and my heart squeezes.
I lift the baby over my shoulder to burp, and circle my palms over her back, inhaling her once again. The judge is going to let her stay with Beckham no matter what. I know it in my heart of hearts. There’s no one else better suited to be her father. My eyes burn for a moment, but I push those doubts and fears away. I’ve been so preoccupied with keeping Beckham calm lately that I haven’t thought much about how it would make me feel to lose her.
Squeezing her a little tighter, I lower her into my arm again and place the bottle against her mouth.
A little boy blazes by on a bike, his mom chasing after him, calling for him to slow down. Watching to see if she ever catches up with him, I spot two familiar faces up ahead.
My heart lurches into my throat, and for a moment the wind is knocked out of me.
The couple grows closer, and I call them a couple because they’re unmistakably holding hands.
Each second passes in slow motion, bringing them closer. They don’t see me. Not yet. But they will.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stand up, Sadie in my arms, and in my best cordial tone say, “Hey, you two.”
Jeremiah and Carly’s younger sister, Carissa, freeze, spotting me at exactly the same moment. Their hands drop and their faces turn pale.
I strut across the wide asphalt path toward them, my heart breaking yet satisfied by the way Jeremiah squirms under my stare.