Click.
“She left, Dad. Georgia left. And it broke me. I fucked it all up. I love her so goddamn much, and she left. Aurora keeps looking around for her, calling out for Mama. And I... I feel like I’m missing the other half of my soul. Is this how Mom feels without you? Because if it is, if it’s even an ounce of what I’m feeling right now... then come back, Pops. Defy reality. Come back for her, because Ican’tbreathe.”
Click.
“I will never stop loving Georgia. I’ll wait for her until she’s ready to let me love her the way she deserves. Because Dad, she deserves it all. And I’m gonna find a way to give it to her. I promise. I won’t let you down. I’ll do right by her. Love you, Pops. Miss you.”
Click.
I don’t know how long I sit there. I don’t know how many times I replay them. His voice, rough and ragged, laughing sometimes, breaking others. Whispering my name like a prayer.
Like a plea.
The sheer emotion in his words shatters something deep inside me I didn’t think was left to break.
And when the last voicemail ends, the one where he promises to love me until I’m ready, I collapse forward with a sob so violent it rips out of my chest and echoes through the empty house.
God, what have I done?
I ran.
I let fear win.
I let the past take something that belonged to my future. And for what? A letter written in grief? A ghost who no longer exists? The ugly words of a woman who broke him once upon a time?
Kade isn’t just some man I slept with. He’s not just the guardian of a little girl I was assigned to.
He’s the man who cleared out every inch of gluten in his house without ever being asked. Who learned how to do my hair from YouTube tutorials because I was too sick to move. Who held me like I was precious, and called me freckles like it meant something. Because to him, it did.
I did.
Do I still?
And Aurora...
Aurora is mine.
She was mine the moment she reached for me, the moment she smiled when I sang. When she wrapped her little arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder with so much trust, it rewrote some of the ugly memories I try to forget.
I belong with them.
I’ve spent my whole life wishing. On stars. On eyelashes. On birthday candles and dandelions and every silly, impossible thing that carried even a sliver of hope.
But maybe it’s time I stop wishing.
Maybe it’s time I fight.
For Kade. For Aurora. For the family I’ve always dreamed of and the future I was too scared to believe I could have.
I wipe my tears, set the phone down gently beside me, and press a hand to my heart. It’s still beating, fragile, bruised, but steady.
I love them.
I love them both.
And it’s time I go home.
Chapter Fifty Five
