My brain scrambled for something—anything—to say, to do, but all I could feel was the crushing weight of four lost years. Four birthdays. First steps. First words. All those seconds of that sweet little girl’s life that I never got to witness, gone like smoke.
She was mine. And I’d missed it.
A part of me was drowning in awe, in the staggering realization that Daphne was mine—that my daughter had my blood in her, that I’d made something that perfect with someone I loved. Sure, Allie and I hadn’t shared anything that deep on the night Daphne was conceived, but now…there was no other word for what I felt for her. For both of them. It was staggering and immense and freeing.
It burned.
“You knew before now,” I guessed, my voice coming out hollow. Not angry yet—just broken.
Allie nodded slowly, guilt spreading across her face. “Not…not always. But…before the zoo, yeah. I knew then.”
“Before our date?” I asked, though I felt like I already knew the answer.
“Yes,” she admitted, barely a whisper.
I took a step back. The ring box, still in my hand, felt suddenly ridiculous. A relic of some other life where we could play at romance without the heaviness of consequences. Now, all I could see was what had been taken from me.
“You didn’t tell me,” I said, and I could hear the heat rising behind my words. “Allie, you knew, and you didn’t say anything for…fuck, there were so many opportunities.”
“I didn’t know how you’d react,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know how any of you would react, and…it was scary.”
“You didn’t trust us to take it well,” I guessed. Inside, a sad mantra:You should’ve trusted us. You should trust me.
She opened her mouth, maybe to defend herself, maybe to apologize again—but I wasn’t ready to hear it. My heart was rattling in my chest like it might tear itself out.
I couldn’t stop imagining Daphne’s face—the curve of her cheek that looked like Allie’s, the eyes that had a glint I hadn’t placed until now. Mine. Jesus Christ.Mine.
How many times had she cried in the middle of the night and I wasn’t there to hold her? How many times had Allie looked at her and seen pieces of me, only to keep that to herself?
And Luca …
Something clicked. The quiet way he’d distanced himself from me. The look on his face now, and before now, when he seemed almost guilty. He hadn’t needed the test. Maybe he saw it in Daphne before any of us did. Or maybe something had come out that day they got their marriage annulled. It would be just like my friend to get so wrapped up in my drama, the biggest news of my life, that he couldn’t face me.
That realization hit like another gut punch. He’d been carrying that weight alone. Maybe trying to protect me. Maybe just not knowing what to say. I couldn’t even be mad at him. Not really. Not when this entire thing felt like standing in the middle of a life I didn’t know I was already part of.
Gavin was silent. Still. His face didn’t give anything away, but I knew him well enough to read between the lines. He looked…disappointed. Like he was retreating into himself.Maybe he’d let himself hope it was him. Maybe he’d just assumed we’d all go into this together, no surprises.
Allie wiped her cheek, her fingers shaking slightly. “I’m tired,” she whispered. “I want to go back inside. Be with my daughter.”
Mydaughter.
I should have gone with her. Should have asked to hold Daphne, to make up for even one second of what I’d lost. Should have said something kind, something to let Allie know I could forgive her eventually, that this didn’t have to mean she’d ruined us.
But instead, I said the worst thing I could’ve said.
“I think maybe it’s better if we give you space,” I said. My own voice startled me—cool, measured, like I wasn’t falling apart from the inside out. “Some time to let you figure out if you even trust us.”If you love us.“If you want us in your life.”
Her whole body stiffened.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t plead. She just looked at me with something raw in her eyes, then gave a small, jerky nod.
Then she turned, walked back inside, and closed the door softly behind her.
Not a slam. No drama. She was just gone.
The hallway felt like it had been scrubbed of air. I stared at the door, willing it to open again. Willing her to come back out. She didn’t.
Luca stood quietly, watching the floor. Gavin still hadn’t moved.
