Page 48 of Fractured Destiny
“A woman from a wealthy family like hers doesn’t end up in rehab at twenty-two by accident.” He pauses for a moment. “I figured there was a story. It wasn’t my business, though.”
I rub my thumb along the edge of the coffee table. “We decided to try, um…seeing each other, I guess. Ever since I got home, I’ve been spinning. Wondering if she’s ready to start something permanent with me.”
“I think you already know the answer.”
I don’t respond, but get up and sit at the kitchen island.
He lets me think for a second and continues, “The woman you conceived Levi with wouldn’t have been ready. You’re in love with the woman who survived it.”
My eyes close. He’s so wise.
“Don’t make surviving the thing she spends the rest of her life apologizing for,” Diego states with conviction. “If she disclosed the ugliest chapter of her life tonight, she wasn’t asking whether you’d approve. She was wondering whether you’d leave.”
“I keep thinking about Levi.” The marble of the counter feels cold beneath my palms. “What if somebody looked at him twenty years from now and decided who he was by the worst thing that ever happened to him?”
“You’d lose your mind.”
“Yeah. I know.” Truth is, I’d tear the world apart before I let anybody reduce my son to one terrible chapter. “I’d never let anybody judge him for his reaction to trauma.” The sentence hangs in the air. “So how could I do it to her?”
Diego doesn’t rush to answer. When he finally speaks, his voice has softened. “She knows all about your past, Levi. Noa’s given you more grace than most people ever get. Give it back.”
I lower my head until my forehead rests against my forearm. “I love her so much.”
“I know.”
“I love him,” I choke out. “I want them to be my family.”
“I know.”
Neither of us says anything for a while. Finally he breaks the silence. “Get some sleep, brother.”
“Okay, I will.”
We hang up, and I sit in the quiet for a long minute. Then I walk down the hall. Levi’s bedroom waits at the end, the door still open from this morning when I straightened the little quilt I had made custom for him. I crouch beside the bed and run my hand over the race car track I’d finished setting up yesterday.
One little car sits upside down where I left it.
I turn it over. Small thing.
Nobody but me would think it mattered.
Maybe this is what being a father looks like most days. Taking care of the details.
I switch off the moon-shaped nightlight, leave the bedroom door open, and head toward my own.
Tomorrow they’ll finally be here.
I’m ready.
fourteen
The Next Morning
I wake at six-forty in the pale-gray light of my bedroom in the pool house.
My phone rests by my head. I pick it up.
Lake: Good morning, baby. I love you. Thank you for trusting me. Tell my little man I’ll see him soon.
