Page 50 of Doctor Neighbor

"Fuck."

"Fuck is right."

The weight of this realization settles on me, and I feel my chest tighten. "God, Liesle, what if it's true? What do I do? How do I even bring this up with Buster? With Steele? With Maddie?"

"I don't have all the answers, but I have one for sure. You do absolutely zero with that loser, Steele. He hasn't even met Maddie. He told you he wanted nothing to do with her, so you owe him nothing."

"A tiny part of me is relieved at the thought that Steele might not be her father. I have always hated the idea of someday having to tell her that he wanted nothing to do with his daughter. I didn't want to break her heart."

"Oh, Cole. This is a lot. All of it."

She stands up and leans down to hug me. Her genuine care for me and my daughter as I navigate this heavy possibility is what I need to know and feel right now.

I've been carrying this mini secret with me for the last several days. I was scared to admit it to myself, much less say it out loud. But her response is exactly what I needed.

My mind is spinning with possibilities and fears. The potential impact on Maddie, my relationship with Buster, and everything I thought I knew about my life is overwhelming. Tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes.

I step out onto the balcony, wine glass in hand, and sink into my favorite chair. The cool evening air caresses my skin, but it does little to soothe the turmoil in my mind. My phone buzzes with a text from Star.

You up for company? I could use a glass of wine and an adult ear.

I quickly type back, hoping to head off a stop-by.

I'm exhausted and heading to bed early. Maybe tomorrow night?

It’s not entirely untrue, but I can't face anyone else tonight.

As I take a sip of wine, my thoughts drift back to my conversation with Liesle. Saying the words out loud to her suddenly makes it very real.

The possibility that Buster could be Maddie's father sits heavy on my chest. I close my eyes, trying to make sense of it all.

How could I have been so blind? The signs were there, subtle but unmistakable. Maddie has dark hair, even though I have brown and Steele has blonde. Her infectious laugh is now glaringly obvious, so similar to Buster’s. The way she furrows her brow when concentrating is just like him. Even her boundless, silly energy matches his.

I think back to that night with Buster so long ago. It was passionate and intense, but I never imagined it could lead to this. I always assumed Steele was Maddie’s father despite his absence from her life. Now, I'm not sure of anything.

The implications of this realization are staggering. If it's true, how do I tell Buster? How will he react?

And what about Maddie? She's too young to understand the complexities of adult relationships, but she deserves to know the truth about her father. At some point, anyway.

We’ve talked peripherally about Steele, and I’ve shown her pictures of him when she asks who her daddy is. Now, am I just going to say, “Just kidding, this is your dad?”

I take another sip of wine, feeling the warmth spread through me. Part of me wants to rush to Buster's door right now and confess everything. Another part wants to bury this secret deep and never speak of it again. But I know neither of those options is fair to anyone involved.

I feel utterly lost as I sit here, staring out at the twinkling city lights. The life I've carefully built for Maddie and myself suddenly feels like it's on shifting sands. Everything I thought I knew has been called into question.

Friday, August 16

8:13 am

I rush down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the pavement. The crisp morning air nips at my cheeks, a welcome change from the usual muggy heat. For once, I'm not sweating through my blouse before I even reach the cafe. Maybe Fall is finally trying to break through, I think, as I savor the coolness.

I know the summer heat isn't gone for good, but the reprieve is nice.

As I round the corner, Brewed Awakening comes into view. My stomach does a somersault. The inspection—it’s all I can think about, and the nervousness threatens to overwhelm me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

I fumble with the door, my hand slipping off the handle initially. The familiar bell jingles as I step inside, and I'm immediately hit with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. But even that can't soothe my nerves today.

To my surprise, the cafe is already bustling. A line stretches from the counter almost to the door, and every table is occupied. The chatter of customers and the hiss of the espresso machine fill the air.

---