Page 8 of Rockstar Daddy's Second Chance

There’s a heavy silence before he finally speaks, his voice barely a whisper. I can tell he’s doing the math. “She’s… eleven? Your daughter?”

I swallow, feeling exposed, my secret laid bare. I want to explain, to make him understand why I left, but there’s so much history between us, too much to untangle in a single conversation.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

His face twists with a mix of emotions—shock, anger, and something far deeper, something that makes me ache. “You didn’t tell me.” The words are sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

Cassidy looks up at me, her eyes wide with confusion and hurt. “Mom?” She’s waiting for an answer, an explanation that I can’t just give here, in front of the man who once held my entire heart.

Sam clears his throat and then states easily, “Cassidy, why don’t you show me your guitar? I’d love to hear the song you were telling us about earlier.”

I throw him a grateful glance as Cassidy reluctantly nods her head. She wants to stay and learn more about Cass and me, but she’s torn.

“Yes, Cassidy, go ahead. We’ll talk about you going to the concert later,” I say with a meaningful look.

My daughter’s face flushes unhappily, but she nods, allowing Sam’s words to lure her away. After Sam follows Cassidy into the dining room that doubles as a music room, I slowly turn to Cass. My eyes drink in how handsome he looks, even standing so rigidly before me.

Cass takes a slow breath, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processes what I’ve said.

“She’s eleven,” he says quietly, his voice laced with betrayal. “You left about twelve years ago, Kendrick. She’s mine, isn’t she? And you never told me.”

I step forward, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. “It wasn’t that simple, Cass. You were about to become a superstar, to have everything you’d worked for. I didn’t want to hold you back, to be the reason you lost everything.”

He shakes his head, his gaze fierce. “You didn’t give me a choice. You took that from me. You decided for me.” His words hang heavy between us, each one a blow to my already aching heart.

“Cass. I did it for you. Your career was just taking off—I thought it was best for you.”

Cass’s eyes flash, a glimmer of anger breaking through. “For me? You thought that disappearing, leaving me in the dark, was best for me?” His voice rises, and I can see him struggling to hold back, the hurt etched deeply into his features.

“The label never would have signed you–” My eyes plead with him to understand. “I had to leave. I didn’t have a choice.”

“No! You had a choice!” Cass states accusingly, his eyes hard. “You could have told me. We could have decided what to do together!”

A crushing wave of regret steals the air from my lungs, but I raise my chin and look Cass right in the eye. “I tried to tell you!” I hiss back at him, furious. “Remember that last night we were together? I told you I had important news! But you got a phone call. It was the label company. They wanted you. You immediately told them yes. You told them you were ready to sign.”

Cass’s eyes flash with remembrance, and I see what looks almost like regret—but just for a moment. He shakes his head. “You still should have told me. We could have worked something out,Kendrick.” But his words are softer, not quite as certain as they were.

“Cass, I wouldn’t stand between you and your dream. Not then, not ever. I— I couldn’t,” I whisper.

“You could! You should have. Dammit!” He runs his hand through his hair. But his words lack the earlier condemnation, I notice with a hint of relief.

Nodding, I watch him closely, my eyes taking in his chiseled features, strong jaw, and piercing blue eyes. If anything, he’s even more attractive now than he was back then. His physique is still just as lean and athletic. I feel something stir within me and determinedly drag my eyes away. Too many years are between us—too many secrets.

“I had a right to know, Kendrick,” he says quietly, and the pain in his voice is so raw, so powerful, that I feel it deep in my bones. “You should’ve let me decide,” he states, his look direct.

“Maybe,” I agree softly. “But I did what I thought was best.”

His expression hardens, replacing his defeated look. “I don’t know how we move forward, Kendrick. I don’t know where we go from here.”

I swallow, nodding. “I don’t either. But we’ll figure it out. For Cassidy.”

He nods slowly. “Yes, for our daughter. But you need to tell her. She needs to know.”

Shaking my head. “Not yet–”

“Yes! Now–”

We hear the door to the music room open, and Sam and Cassidy step out. Sam’s eyes dart curiously from me to Cass. Whatever he sees seems to satisfy him, and he smiles with relief.

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