Page 97 of Winning Brynn

It had been insignificant, I know that much. And it breaks my heart that my daughter was brought into this world as a result of a meaningless one-night stand. Before Salem, I'd always thought that if I ever had kids, they'd be conceived out of love. Not several cheap beers and a broken condom.

But would I change what happened?

No.

There is no part of me that regrets what happened that night.

Even now, with the resentment I feel toward Isabella for doing what she did, I wouldn’t wish to go back in time and stop things with her before they started. Because as angry as I am, Isabella gave me Salem. And my daughter is the greatest thing to have ever happened to me, even if being a single father has been more difficult than I ever imagined it could be.

“What are you doing here?” I finally have the courage to ask.

Issy lifts her head, dark, inky lines tracking down her cheeks from where her mascara has run. “I just wanted to see her.” She sniffs.

“Well, you’ve seen her. Now, get out.”

She doesn’t even flinch, just gazes wistfully at my daughter who’s fallen fast asleep on Brynn’s shoulder.

“I only found out her name today.” She wipes her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. “I tried not to look you up, so I’ve always just called her baby girl in my head. But now I know what to call her. It’s pretty. I like it.” She attempts to smile, but it comes out more of a grimace.

“I couldn’t give less of a shit if you like it or not.”

“Leo,” Brynn whispers my name sharply. She sets her free hand on my arm and squeezes until I look at her. “Try not to escalate things, okay?”

I suck in a breath, my immediate instinct to snap at her for expecting me to act calm right now. But with one look at her crestfallen face, I know it’s not her intention to try to minimize or temper my reaction. She’s simply trying to stop the situation from getting any worse.

But it’s easier said than done to calm down, especially when I’ve been blindsided by the woman who abandoned my daughter.

Issy rocks back and forth in her seat, her hands tucked under her thighs. “I’d like to talk about being in her life.”

"Absolutely not."

Her face falls, crumpling like paper. She scrunches her eyes closed to save herself from crying again, squeaking, "I'm her mom."

Screw it. I can’t be calm right now.

"You gave up that title when you abandoned her. You didn't even tell me you were pregnant. You just left that poor, helpless little baby on my doorstep with a lawyer and paperwork that very clearly states you are no longer her fucking mother." My chest heaves as I seethe at her audacity, venom dripping from every word I spit at her.

"That—that’s not how it happened."

"So you didn’t leave her with a lawyer and have him drop her off at my door like some mail-order baby service?"

She grips the sofa cushion with white knuckles. "No, I did, but—"

"But nothing, Isabella. You don't get to change your mind just because your conscience has finally caught up. You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it."

"You don’t understand,” she pleads.

“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. If you'd told me you were pregnant, I could have supported you through it. We could have done our best to co-parent the baby together, or I would have taken sole custody if that was what you wanted. You didn't give me the opportunity to prepare to be a father, to buy the things a baby needs, or get things in place so she'd be safe and well looked after. You didn't afford me one conversation, Isabella. So, I've already done more for you tonight than you have ever done for me, but my kindness runs out now."

Silently, Brynn reaches out her free hand to hold mine between the arms of our chairs. Her fingers ghost over my knuckles, reminding me that she's here, and she's in my corner. But then she pulls away, softly transferring a still-sleeping Salem into my arms before turning to her friend.

"Okay,” she says gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I think that's enough for tonight."

Isabella whimpers, her head falling back as she loses the fight with her tears. I can’t watch it. This false display of emotion won’t work on me. My mind is already made up. Over my dead body will that woman ever be allowed around my daughter.

"She can't stay here," I mutter, looking only at Brynn.

"I know.” She nods in understanding. “I'll text my brother and ask if she can stay in his guest room tonight."

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