Page 133 of All of Me

“You told me you were getting a place next door to Danielle,” I remind him, tilting my head. “But then I find out you moved in with her.” I let that sit between us for a second before shaking my head. “So don’t come at me with thisyou’re taking my kids awaybullshit when you didn’t think twice about uprooting your life and ruining yet another relationship with a woman you got pregnant for a woman you just met.

His face darkens. “That’s different. Katie is the one who left me.”

I scoff, my voice flat. “Because you terrified her.”

A tense, thick silence stretches between us. Adam exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn’t what I wanted to argue about,” he mutters.

“Then what did you want to argue about Adam?” I counter. “Because that seems to be the only thing you know how to do.”

His eyes flick away for a second before he exhales through his nose. “I didn’t mean I want to argue, Callie. I just don’t want to lose my girls. And, for the record, I have been trying to find Katie. I heard from someone that she’s in Colorado.”

I hesitate, narrowing my eyes. “And?”

“Apparently she’s staying on a military base.” He shifts his stance, his mouth pressing in a thin line. “I think she got married.”

I think back on the letter she wrote me.

I thought I could make this work, but I couldn’t. His anger is just too much.

He hasn’t changed. Not for me, not for anyone. Please be careful.

The girls are lucky to have you. I hope someday my daughter can know her sisters, but for now, this is the only choice I can make.

She ran, not just from Iowa or from Adam, but toward something. Someone. If what Adam says is true, she’s trying to build a life that doesn’t include him. I can’t say I blame her. Living a life without Adam sounds so much better than constantly having to deal with his bullshit. I swallow hard, my fingers curling slightly. I don’t tell Adam about the letter. I don’t tell him that Katie warned me to be careful. Instead, I watch him carefully.

“And what? You think you can just find her and insert yourself back into her life?” I ask.

“She’s having my kid. She may even have already had the baby, I honestly don’t know. But I can’t stand the thought of not knowing what happened to my child. I just want to be involved in the kid’s life.”

“Do you?”

He glares at me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I lift my shoulders and dramatically shrug. “It means I’ve seen this before. You get all fired up when there’s something to prove. Then when the hard part comes, when things aren’t easy or convenient, you disappear.”

His hands clench at his sides. “That’s not fair.”

I arch a brow. “Isn’t it?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I know I messed up, okay? I don’t need you reminding me every five seconds.”

I hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “Then prove me wrong.”

I watch him carefully, weighing my next words. I could tell him to leave it alone. That if Katie wanted him in her child’s life, she would have reached out by now. But I don’t say anything, because this isn’t my fight. I have my own battles to deal with.

Without another word, I turn and open the door. “I’ll be right back with the girls.”

Before I even step inside, Sara barrels past me, her excitement cutting through the thick tension on the porch. “Daddy!” she squeals, launching herself at Adam and wrapping her arms around his leg like she never wants to let go.

The shift in him is immediate. His face softens, the frustration from our argument disappearing as he bends down to hug her. “Hey, kiddo.” His voice is lighter now, full of warmth—like this is the only version of him that exists. But I know better.

I balance Ruby on my hip, grabbing her bag before stepping back onto the porch. Adam is already leading Sara to the car, helping her into her booster seat with an ease that makes my chest ache. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to be a dad—it’s that he chooses when to show up.

That’s what scares me the most.

He shuts Sara’s door, then turns back toward me. I hesitate for half a second before handing Ruby over, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he adjusts her against his hip. She doesn’t protest, just rests her cheek against his shoulder, content in a way that shouldn’t bother me—but it does.

Because I know how this ends.

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