Page 252 of One Wild Wish

I dodged the weight machines and stopped at the side of Emmett’s treadmill. “Can we chat a second?”

He glowered at me. “I’m not talking to you.”

“This isn’t about your penis size.” But I said it loud enough for the girl at his left to gawk and stumble as she ran. No point missing an opportunity.

Muttering under his breath, Emmett slowed his treadmill until it stopped. He grabbed his towel and joined me by the water fountain, a quieter alcove to the side. “This better be good.”

It certainly wasn’t a light penis-pump talk. “Do you wish you knew your father?”

He reared back at my sharp conversation turn. “What’s this about?”

I leaned my shoulder into the wall, the cold, hard plaster steadying. “I never knew mine either and it’s always plagued me, the kind of void in your life that consumes you. And I have this chance to maybe find him, something I’ve dreamed of forever. But, I don’t know…all of a sudden, I’m wondering if I should let it go.”

“That’s definitely not penis talk.”

I snorted. “Yeah, no. Sorry to be so heavy this early in the morning.”

He mopped his forehead with his towel, taking his time. “It’s a tough one to answer. Part of me would like to know the man responsible for half my DNA, and part of me doesn’t care. He had his chance to know me and didn’t take it, or maybe he never knew I existed. To be honest, I stopped letting either possibility affect my life a while back. Dating Cameron had something to do with it—accepting my past doesn’t dictate my future. I have a great brother and grandmother. A hot boyfriend who knows I don’t need a fucking penis pump .” His glare was adorable. “Not sure that helped much.”

It echoed what Rachel had said, how my current life was full, no matter what curveballs were tossed my way. Still, I felt unmoored. “I want to find him, I’m just worried it’ll send me for a loop when I have a lot going on right now.”

A lot being the understatement of the millennia.

He fisted his towel and folded his arms. “All I can suggest is this: you have to do you. Owen and I coped differently with our past, but we both made it through. There’s no wrong or right. So if this is something you need, for closure or whatever, then putting it off will stress you more. If you think you’re ready to let it go, then”—he shrugged—“let it go.”

Shrugged. Like it was that simple. You know, just uncover my father’s name, meet the man who might have chosen to ostracize me from his life, or like, whatever…let it go .

But when it came down to it, I guess it was kind of simple.

When the clock had chimed midnight last year, there’d been a reason I’d chosen this resolution. Ainsley, Rachel, and I had promised to make our wishes big ones, things we’d believed were essential to our lives.

Finding my father was essential.

I guess that was my answer, in the end. I would meet August at my mother’s park bench and tell him I was ready to look ahead and plan for our future. Then we’d see, together, if my father’s last name had been memorialized in that very spot. Whatever happened from there, at least I’d have August.

17

9 a.m., 15 Hours…

August

I loitered by the Alcatraz ticket booth for so long parents side-eyed me and tucked their kids to their sides. My unrelenting frown wasn’t helping. Gwen hadn’t arrived yet. My lockjaw had returned. I stared at the park bench mentioned in Mary’s journal, half a second from rushing over and searching for Ted’s name possibly scratched into the wood.

So I can scratch it out , a dark part of me whispered.

But I wouldn’t stoop that low.

The day was sunny but brisk. The sweat from my punishing run had been washed off in a blistering shower, but a feverish chill still descended.

I was about to lose the love of my life after I’d just found her.

Gwen’s tousled hair snagged my attention first. Across the street and waiting for a gap in traffic, she bounced on her toes. She wore ankle boots, a fitted T-shirt—blue with something written on it. Her tight jeans made my mouth water. They had a rip in the thigh, the perfect place for me to ease my fingers in, tease her with soft strokes.

I hadn’t tasted her yet, licked and sucked and mapped her body. When she learned what I’d done, that fantasy would be shot to shit.

She made it to the bench and touched its edge, but snatched her hand back as though she’d been hit with an electric shock. She bit her lip and searched the area. Throngs of tourists walked the strip. One kid clung to her parents’ hands as they swung her between steps. Carefree. Happy. The briny air expanded with chatter and squawking seagulls and laughs. My endless regrets lodged in my throat.

I should have contacted Gwen the second I’d received that letter.