Page 166 of Fighting Chance

An hour later, I’m leaning against the boards, on Bambi duty on the sidelines because we can’t have her slipping on the ice and tearing anything. All the while, my team—my family—teaches Emmy how to skate.

Irving skates backwards, bending low and cheering for Emmy as she holds onto the child frame Coach ordered in. She squeals with such delight I find my cheeks aching.

“She’s a natural,” Grayson says, breaking away from the group. He bends over the boards to pat Bambi, who has tried to sneak onto the ice numerous times.

Snorting I point to my daughter, pride filling my chest. “She’ll be a pro in no time.”

My best friend moves to stand beside me, careful that his blades don’t come in contact with Bambi.

We fall into a comfortable silence, both of us watching our teammates encourage Emmy. Hell, even Coach is out on the ice skating, taking videos on his phone like a proud grandpa.

Fuck, the sight is something I used to dream about as a kid, and the fact I get to watch my little girl experience it means everything to me.

“I know it takes two to tango but fuck me, dude, she is all you.”

“You think?”

“She even has that stubborn furrow you get.”

Chuckling to myself, I look again and spot it. “Well I’ll be damned, she does.”

The private investigator didn’t turn up much beyond a couple of dead social media accounts where she hadn’t uploaded a single post. I suppose it was a long shot, him trying to track down the type of information I wanted. Emmy’s mother, as horrible as shewas, never posted about our night together online. I was hoping for once in my life that of all the women who have posted about my private sex life, she was one of them, because if she had perhaps it would have sparked something deep within my memories.

What really perplexes me is why she never contacted me.

Why would someone addicted to drugs not think to reach out to the father of her child and ask for money when he’s well off? But that’s always the way with these things, isn’t it? You want answers, desperately so, and yet no matter how much you do, you will never know because the only person who can give you them isn’t around anymore.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to swallow that I don’t remember Emmy’s mom, that she was conceived at a time in my life where my mind was so bleak that I didn’t care what I did with my body. But I suppose the saying is right, light does prevail through darkness, because now I have Emmy, the light of my life and the epitome of hope.

Shaking my head, I wave away the thoughts, wave away the disappointment I felt when the PI called informing me all he had was a few photos from when Emmy’s mother, Natasha, was a child.

At least one thing was confirmed, everyone is right, Emmy is the spitting image of me.

I wonder what type of life Natasha had that not even a top notch PI could track down information of the life she led or current images of her.

Shaking myself from my desolate thoughts, I focus on the here and now. I focus on my daughter, the beautiful girl that came from something fleeting and dark.

Out the corner of my eye, I can see Grayson staring at me. “See something you like, lover boy?”

“Yeah, I do actually.”

“Don’t tell Bella, it’ll break her heart.” He shoves me playfully and I laugh.

“Shut up, Ashford. I just mean…” He tapers off, the seriousness of his tone making me turn to him. “You’ve grown. I knew that day you told me about Emmy that things would change but…it’s like you’re who you’re meant to be. I’ve never seen someone step so smoothly into the role of a parent. Bella is even talking about wanting a kid because you make it look so effortless.”

“Trust me, it’s anything but effortless.”

“I don’t doubt that at all.” He claps his hand over his chest. “But hand to heart, Kieran, that little girl is the luckiest one in the world to have you as her father. Even my own dad made a comment last week about how much the role as a father suits you.”

There’s nothing but sincerity in his features but I still ask, “You mean that?”

He nods emphatically. “You were born to be a father.”

“You think I’m doing a good job?”

“Kieran, you’re putting most fathers to shame. You’re more than good.”

I can’t help but sigh with relief, a pent-up tension loosening, one that I didn’t realize I was harboring. “All I’ve been thinking about is that I want to give her the childhood I never had.”