Well, before tonight, anyway. Guess that had changed too.
Zoey held his gaze. “What happened, Linc?”
Ugh. He hooked one leg over the other. At least that darn lamppost wasn’t in reach. “What are the odds of you letting me avoid this question?”
She squinted. “About as good as Pastor Todd replacing the baptismal font with a hot tub.”
“Fine.” He stopped rocking, shifted to face her. “I was nineteen, Kirsten was eighteen. Two kids made a dumb decision and made another kid.”
Zoey blinked. “That’s one way to tell the story.”
He probably owed her a little more—after all, she’d saved him from being the bad guy when Amelia tried to buy a TV for her room. He tried again. “We were young, thought we were in love. But were always fighting.”
Zoey listened, nibbling her cuticle. “Go on.”
“There were rumors about her and another guy…she and I had been together several months, but I guess we weren’t on the same page.” Not even the same book, as he later learned. “Tried to do something nice for Valentine’s, but she was acting weird, so I asked her if she was cheating on me, and she didn’t like that. We had a big fight.”
“Was she?” Zoey nibbled faster. “Cheating?”
He glanced toward the house where Amelia slept. Even now, years later—fourteen years later, to be exact—the word dropped a rock in his stomach. “Yes.”
Zoey winced. “I’m sorry.”
“After she stopped being so offended that I asked, she went the route of denial and then…distraction.” That part of the story he could remember in detail, unfortunately. “I’m assuming I don’t need to continue from here.”
“Skip a page.” Zoey swiped her pointed finger through the air. “What happened nine months later?”
“Well, we weren’t together that long, obviously.” He stared across the porch into the dark forest. “The truth came out about her cheating about a week after Valentine’s, and we broke up a few days after that.” He lifted one shoulder. “The end.”
Or so he’d thought. Apparently it was just the beginning.
“That’s a lot.” Zoey gazed across the deck, her face drawn.
Did she think less of him?
The fact that it would bother him if she did sat heavy, an unfamiliar weight. He’d never cared before. People’s opinions were their own, and they could think whatever they wanted with no reflection on him.
But with Zoey—it mattered.
A frog croaked from a nearby tree, while a firefly danced through the woods. The hint of smoke from someone’s burn pile lingered in the air. Linc swallowed hard, a ball catching in his throat. All these years, and he’d done the same thing to his kid that his father had done to him. Not the exact same. He hadn’tchosento leave Amelia.
The ball doubled. How was she going to know that difference? How would Amelia ever trust him? Even Zoey had to double-check that he wasn’t lying. Like she thought it was possible he would abandon ship that way.
Though to be fair, the wordfathersure jump-started his heart into overdrive.
“How are you feeling about this? Besides the shock, of course.” Zoey tossed the question out there, like it was that simple to answer.
He thought a moment, wanting to shove everything down and back. But it kept bursting to the surface, threatening to erupt from his throat. “I feel like that one time when I was a kid, fell into the bay and caught a current.”
Zoey tilted her head. “I don’t know that story.”
Still vivid, twenty-four years later. “Couldn’t get up, despite being a strong swimmer even back then.”
“Aquaman.” She smiled.
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you start too.”
“Do you prefer water-baby?”
