Page 13 of Sweet Distraction

“Yes.” The syllable is barely audible.

“Okay. I’ll let you go so you can see the text I’m sending and process. I’ll be in touch with information on when you’ll meet her tomorrow.”

“Mm-hmm,” is my only response as I end the call a split second before my phone alerts a text.

My hands tremble, and every part of me screams not to look. I don’t know how long I stare at the damn attachment like it might bite me if I click it, but eventually, my thumb moves.

The image loads slowly. Too slow. My chest tightens with each spinning second.

Fucking hell.

There she is.

A little girl with curls that have a mind of their own and a tiny gap between her front teeth. She’s sitting cross-legged, clutching something pink against her chest. Her smile isn’t big. It’s shy and tentative, like someone told her to smile and she tried, but didn’t quite trust it.

Her eyes? They punch the air from my lungs.

Big. Round. Haunted. Familiar in a way that messes with my head.

I’ve seen those eyes before. In a mirror. In pictures of myself when I was that age. On my fucking driver’s license for Christ’s sake.

Motherfucker.

I don’t want to look anymore, but I can’t tear my eyes away, so I zoom in, not even realizing I’m doing it until I’m studying every detail of her tiny face.

I thought I’d feel doubt. Anger. Confusion.

And I do feel all three, but I also feel overwhelmed, desperate, and inadequate.

I’m still stuck somewhere between disbelief and detonation.

I don’t know what I expected to feel. But fuck . . . this isn’t it.

This is grief, tangled in awe and wrapped in fear.

It’s loss and gain in the same breath.

It’s a freefall with no parachute.

And even none of those describe how fucked up I feel right now.

I don’t want this. I never wanted this.

And despite those truths, all I feel is a low, aching pull. Like my heart just shifted when it needs to stay squarely where it’s been for the past twenty-seven years.

She’s mine.

The test proved it when all I needed was a picture of her to know.

And fuck if that doesn’t scare the hell out of me.

CHAPTER FIVE

Willow

The non-disclosure agreement I was required to sign comes with ridiculous repercussions for breaking it.

Jackie’s comments in the park about Poppy’s father.