Page 21 of The One Who Changed Everything

"I tried to find you," I said, each word heavy with the weight of those fruitless efforts. "But you vanished. You could have found me."

Samantha's voice cracked, betraying her fortitude. "I had to make a choice, Evan. And every day, I lived with it, knowing one day this reckoning would come. I was–am–terrified about what you’ll do now that you know."

"You made a choice," I muttered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. As much as I wanted to bridge the gap between us, to understand and forgive, the hurt was too raw, the wound toofresh. “A choice to rob me of our daughter’s childhood. What about my choices? What about my right to know, to be there for her?”

"I'm sorry, Evan. I truly am," she said, her voice breaking. She sat down on the step I had vacated.

I took a step forward, a few scattered rocks beneath my boots crunching like a harsh whisper against the backdrop of our raised voices. Samantha squared her shoulders as if bracing against an invisible storm.

"Tell me," I pushed, each word heavy with years of buried emotion. "Why did you hide her from me? What about that week was so terrible that you’d rather Sophia grow up without a father than reach out to me.

“I—I thought..." But her words trailed off, swallowed by the thickening air between us.

"Thought what? That I wouldn't want to be a part of her life? That I'd turn my back on my own daughter?" The accusation tasted bitter on my tongue.

"No, it wasn't like that," she insisted, her voice climbing with every syllable. "I was afraid you’d take her away from me," she cried out, tears and anguish covering her face.

I recoiled at her words and resisted the urge to close the distance between us to wipe away those tears. Her words felt like a slap to the face. She thought I would have taken Sophia away from her?

I shook my head slowly, still feeling sliced open by her sobs. “You made a baby with me. But you obviously don’t know me at all.”

She sniffed, still staring at the ground. “Say whatever you want,Mercer.”

I felt the dig intended by the use of my last name as though she’d used a shovel.

She continued, “I grew up with a dirt floor, a negative bank balance, and a deep resentment of the wealthy and powerful, because when you’re raised on food stamps, it’s hard not to see the divide as injustice. So don’t tell me that I should have believed that the rich boy who knocked me up in the bathroom before disappearing would suddenly want to coparent with me.”

Shame flooded me at her words, and I didn’t know how to respond. This situation was so messed up.

I stepped toward her, unable to hold back. I leaned over and tipped her face up to mine, studying her expression. My thumbs traced a path under her eyes, smearing the tears across the dark circles. She shuddered at the touch.

“What are you going to do?” she whispered.

What could I say? That everything was okay? That I wasn't torn apart inside? "I just... I need time," I finally managed, the world around me reduced to the echoing sound of my own heartbreak.

I heard the words she whispered as I walked away, though I wasn’t sure she was intending me to. “I won’t let you take her from me.”

CHAPTER 11

Samantha

It had officially been the longest forty-eight hours of my life. From Sophia’s collapse yesterday to a sleepless night by her bedside at the hospital and the interaction this afternoon with Evan at my apartment, I was basically a zombie. Someone must have been praying for supernatural strength or something, because I wasn’t sure how I was able to stand, let alone put one foot in front of the other.

The seconds ticked away as I sat in the hospital waiting room. I needed to get back in with Sophia, but I just needed another minute. Once I was with her, I would need to put on a strong face. And right now, I was feeling anything but.

The cushioned chairs and muted colors of the drab room did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest—a knot wound by the confrontation with Evan. His eyes, usually so calm and sure, had been a storm of hurt, confusion... accusation. I'd seen raw pain there, a father's heartache for the daughter he never knew he had.

I wasn’t sure I had ever felt as vulnerable as I did when I admitted the truth to him. My deepest fear that he would somehow use his money and influence to take her. That he–and a judge–would look at me and only see the hungry teenage girlwith bony shoulders and greasy hair. The girl I still saw in the mirror when I looked too long.

"Hey, Sam." A nurse's voice broke through my reverie, and I stood, smoothing out my fresh jeans, preparing to face the sterile white of Sophia's hospital room.

"Is she awake?" I asked, the question feeling small and fragile in the vastness of the hospital corridor.

"She’s watching TV," the nurse replied with a smile that reached her eyes. “And dozing,” she added.

"Thank you," I murmured, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door. The familiar beeping of medical machines greeted me. The antiseptic smell was sharp in my nostrils.

Sophia lay nestled among a fortress of pillows. Her delicate hands were folded across her stomach, the remote clutched in one hand, the other wrapped around her necklace—a tiny silver heart she’d found buried in my jewelry box several years ago.

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