Page 28 of Second Chance with Seth

I don’t know what to do, or how to absorb the news. My mind’s a blank, and I push my fingers back through my hair, trying to take it in. That doesn’t work, though. My mouth is dry, my skin tingling, and I do everything I can to control my voice as I step closer to Everly, careful not to crush our baby girl.

“You didn’t think to tell me?” I say, noting the way her breath hitches in her throat.

“Don’t you dare judge me. You’re the one who left. Remember? You’re the one who stayed away.”

“I know. But when I didn’t hear from you, I assumed…” I stop talking, shaking my head. “No. You’re right. I should have come back.”

I should have done something to check up on her… to find out how she was. It was my responsibility… and I failed.

I let out a sigh, thinking back to my meeting with Nate and Taylor yesterday afternoon and how he placed his hand over Taylor’s bump. If I’d been here, I could have done that. I could have done a lot of other things, too… like being there when Everly found out she was pregnant, helping her through River’s birth, and all those little moments in between. Not to mention everything that’s followed.

And that’s not all. Because I’ve just realized what Nate meant when he said a lot can happen in a year. He wasn’t talking about him and Taylor. He was talking about my absence and Everly… and our daughter, about whom I knew nothing, even though he clearly did.

“Can I assume everyone in town knows about River?” I ask.

“Of course they do,” Everly says, sounding exasperated. “I don’t keep her in a closet.”

“And do they know she’s mine? Do they think I walked out on you, knowing you were pregnant?”

“I’ve got no idea what people think.”

“You must have some idea.”

“It’s not my biggest priority, Seth, but I suppose some people have probably assumed that.”

“And you’ve never denied it? You’ve never told the truth about what happened?”

She moves closer, her eyes sparking with anger.

“It’s not my job to fuel the gossips.”

“No. It’s evidently your job to make me look like the worst kind of asshole there is… like a man no better than my father.” My voice cracks as I think about all those nights I’ve sat in my apartment over the last twelve months, comparing myself to my father, and how right I was. Everly reaches out, the touch of her hand on my arm making me gasp.

“No,” she says. “No, Seth. That’s not…”

“Not what? Not right? It’s sounds pretty damn right to me. My dad walked out on my mom, leaving her to raise me alone, and I did the same to you… to both of you.” I glance down at River as I speak, barely in control.

“Yeah, but you didn’t know I was pregnant. Neither did I.”

“And you think that makes a difference? You think that makes it okay?” She opens her mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand and she closes it again. I can’t think what to say to her, though. I’m a confused mess of hurt and self-loathing, and before I say something I know I’ll regret, I turn around and stride back toward the hotel.

My head is spinning. I’m torn between anger, confusion, and remorse.

Right now, confusion is winning, although anger is coming a real close second.

How could Everly have done this to me? I get that I left her, and I hate myself more than ever for doing so. I even understand that I should have made more of an effort to come back, rather than leaving it to her. But do my mistakes give her the right to keep my daughter from me… both before and afterher birth? It’s not like I was un-contactable. I haven’t changed my number, and she could have called or texted anytime. Did she hate me that much? And if she did, is there any hope for us now?

“Do you want there to be?” I mutter under my breath.

Of course I do.

There’s nothing I want more.

“Fuck,” I whisper, knowing I should never have walked away… then, or now.

If I’d stayed back then, she’d never have been in this position, would she? I’d have been there when she took the pregnancy test. I’d have taken her in my arms and told her everything would be okay, even though it wasn’t planned… because it wasn’t. Things may not have been right between us, but we’d have worked it out. We could have laughed, and talked our way through it. I know we could. Then I’d have held her hand through every appointment, every scan, every moment of morning sickness. I’d have been there when our daughter entered the world, and I have no doubt I would have cried my eyes out.

They’re stinging now, just thinking about it… about all the things I’ve missed. But that’s my fault, not hers. I screwed up by leaving her, and by staying away. And I screwed up again just now, by putting too much emphasis on myself, and what other people think, rather than how Everly felt, and what she must have gone through, all by herself.

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