Page 114 of Rumor Has It

It’s hard to believe I never changed a baby’s diaper before December thirty-first. Caring for this little girl has changed me.

During Aria’s naps, I lie beside her soaking her innocence in. She sleeps and I work through how neglecting her when she was a newborn affects me now.

God, I was such a shithead.

Afraid to break her tiny little body. Afraid she’d break me with her cries and send me into a tailspin while I struggled with depression.

I let the opportunity to bond with her earlier pass me by. I can’t recover the time I missed out on. I can’t recapture memories we never made.

I might’ve said the baby wasn’t mine to keep—and I might’ve even meant it at that point—but fuck biology. Deep down, I’m not ashamed I want my lawyers to dig up a reason Dillon shouldn’t have custody of his daughter. I’m only ashamed I let Aria down in her hour of need.

I’m a man of my word, swallowing my pride and doing what’s right for this child.

Meanwhile, I wonder if Kylie would’ve stuck to her guns and allowed Dillon to co-parent. Or if she’d have fallen off the wagon and reverted to being the woman who caused mayhem and pursued friendships and relationships with people who enabled her.

I guess we’ll never know.

“There we go,” I say, standing her up.

“Sa!” Aria claps.

I hold her by the middle as she bounces on chubby legs on the mattress. I wish I were like her and had no idea what was about to happen.

Cassidy picked out Aria’s outfit for her birthday celebration. The front has a big red and pink plaid number one embroidered on it. Twelve months of growing like weed, I doubt Aria will wear it again. I thought Cassidy deserved to see her in it. Tomorrow is Aria’s first birthday and by then it will be too late.

With her blonde hair swept into pigtails with two tiny bows, my little girl looks adorable.

I roll my thick tongue around in my mouth, sucking on my teeth to hold back my misery.

She presses a dwarfish finger to my tight lips, giggles, and lunges. Her arms wrap around my neck and my eyes water. I tuck my nose and take a steady inhale. Aria smells like baby powder and a hint of Cassidy’s elderberry lotion. The next time I ever get to hug her she won’t smell the same.

Why doesn’t anyone tell you how hard it is to give up on a dream when you really want to be selfish?

The three of us have been on an incredible journey that wasn’t supposed to end. I was all set to have the adoption papers drawn up. Instead, my legal team constructed a physical custody arrangement.

Dillon gets the kid to raise in Kylie’s house in California. As Kylie’s beneficiary, I retain control of the bulk of the trust I set up for Aria when she was born. I wasn’t ever letting whomever the baby’s father was have unconditional access to Kylie’s money. Not to mention, what drove the wedge between Kylie and her parents was control over her finances. Dillon didn’t argue when his lawyer told him he’d receive monthly payments to cover their expenses. It’s not chump change. Like me, Kylie negotiated licensing agreements. The yearly royalties on her music catalog alone mean Aria will never go without.

I lift us off the bed and walk toward the kitchen, chucking the diaper in the trash and slamming it shut harder than intended with my knee.

“Don’t you look pretty?” Rhiannon gushes, attempting to stay positive.

“In this old thing? I thought you wouldn’t notice,” I crack a lame joke about the worn jeans I have on.

Rhiannon releases a differential snort so my ego isn’t wounded anymore than it already is.

We’re doing all we can to ease the tension and failing miserably. The sad fact of the matter is, sometime later today, it will come to light that my wife was fucking me over for years. I thought I was stopping her from trampling on me when I asked for more time before the divorce. However, she’s continued to screw me from beyond the grave. After being labeled a recluse and the bullshit headlines that dragged Cassidy and me through the mud, hiding an illegitimate kid is another ding to my reputation.

Meanwhile, nobody speaks ill of the dead.

I’m pathetic for putting up with it for as long as I did. I’m pathetic for not creating the family I wanted sooner… and with someone else who truly cared about me.

Restless on the couch, Cassidy rearranges the hotel room service folio on the coffee table and then smooths the ruffles on her skirt. She’s stunning with her hair pulled up, wearing a casual yellow dress with a teensy floral print. The tone matches the baby’s romper. She had to have bought it for the same occasion.

Cassidy can’t quite meet my eyes and, if she could, hers would reflect the rawness I feel. She tackled planning Aria’s big day like any other mom would. Sugar and flour wait idle in the cabinets on the bus. Cassidy was supposed to bake a cake today.

Anguish seeped into my bones, making them so brittle I’m surprised I don’t collapse. Having her alongside me on the broken road is the only thing getting me through. Though it’s a good thing we’re not pretending anything’s amiss to an adult.

With the shit about to hit the fan, Cassidy called Colton and Keely so they wouldn’t worry when the press release was sent out. I sat next to her as she told them the truth of my circumstances, and that it was her idea to come on tour to stop Aria and me from getting separated. Her parents accepted her apology, which was a relief. But the bigger consolation was when Keely asked how Cassidy was doing and Cassidy broke down. When she finally composed herself, she told her mother she would do it all over again exactly the same way.

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