Page 116 of Until I Find You

I usher Camilla out of the room and before I can follow her, Dad calls out, “Jack.”

It’s stern but not in the way it would have been when I was sixteen and stirring up trouble. It’s almost needy.

“Yeah, Dad?”

Dad runs his hand down the lower part of his face, scruffier than usual. “I hope you and I can get a moment alone later. To talk.”

I don’t say anything. It’s not a demand, but it’s also not a request.

“We haven’t talked in so long,” he says with a lopsided smile. “And you know, we used to talk all the time.”

Dad knows how to use those knives and throw them right at the heart.

My chest tightens because he is right. We did use to talk all the time. Though he was busy when I lived with him, we talked a lot. He didn’t mind me staying up late on a school night so we couldshoot the shit and watch a game on TV. Would always ask me about school and my life even if he didn’t always have the most constructive advice.

We used to know each other.

When did that change?

I remember why I came here tonight. For Camilla and me. For our child.

But yes. For Dad too.

“Yeah, we’ll talk.”

He beams, then seems to remember whatever is baking in the oven, ducking away with a curse under his breath.

25

JACK

After dinner,we migrate into the living room, everyone in various levels of food coma. Sonia and Dad sit together, surveying their domain, while Nate lays on the floor next to baby Emma as she stares at a mobile and holds onto her tiny feet.

Damn, Nate’s good at this. I’m jealous. That he’s able to put aside all the shit from the past and enjoy our new siblings.

Laney’s watching him. Mason’s running his hand up and down her back while he talks to Seth about his latest project at the architecture firm.

Bridget’s wrapped up in Seth’s arm, her legs draped over Abigail’s lap, giggling over Liam nodding off on Abigail’s shoulder.

And then there’s Camilla and me, sitting side by side. Awkward and unsure what our place is here.

We have a place here, don’t we?

Camilla nudges me.

“Hm?”

“Maybe you should act like you like me?”

I laugh. “Do I not look like I like you?”

She takes my hand and slings it over her shoulder so my arm is around her. “Like that.”

“Okay, fair. I’m not being a great boyfriend right now, am I?”

“You’re being a great business partner,” she says, nuzzling into my chest, then adds in a whisper, “But what I really want is my Daddy.”

I press a kiss to the top of her head, let my nose drift through her curls. I wonder if our baby will have her curls. I hope so. A curly-headed mini version of Camilla. I won’t tell her, but I do have a slight hope we have a girl.

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