Page 85 of Deal Breaker
His gaze holds mine. “Of course I did.”
I nod again, feeling that knot in my chest twist a little tighter. “Do you wanna sit?” I ask, because I can’t take the way he’s looking at me—like he’s reading every lie I’ve ever told him, trying to rearrange them into the truth.
I nod toward a quieter corner with two padded chairs with a crooked side table between them. Ford follows, silent, as we sit.
He puts his coffee cup on the table and waits. And because I’ve kept enough from him, I give him something real.
“She hasn’t been feeling great for a while,” I say, staringat the floor. “I guess it started around a year ago with fatigue. Then stomach aches. She was dizzy all the time. Her appetite dropped. Some days she couldn’t even make it to lunch without needing to take a nap.”
“Did she see a doctor about it?”
“She brushed it off for too long,” I tell him. “Said it was just stress. Or maybe hormones. Then she fainted one afternoon and hit her head on the corner of the counter.”
“Jesus.”
“That’s when I decided to come back to Deep Cove. I needed to be closer to home. I found the cottage to rent and landed the interview with Cove.”
Ford leans forward, elbows on his knees. “So that’s why you came back.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah.”
He looks at me for a moment, his gaze steady, like he’s trying to figure me out.
“You could’ve told me,” he says after a long pause.
“I’m not great at talking about it,” I whisper. “We’re still not sure what’s wrong. They’ve been running tests. She’s my mom. If anything ever happened to her?—"
Ford reaches for my hand, lacing my fingers with his. “Whatever I can do—anything—you know I will do it. I will find her the best doctors. The best team.”
“Ford—”
“You’re not in this alone. Let me be there for you, June.”
My eyes blur with tears that I try my best to contain and his hand squeezes mine just a little harder. We sit this way for one, two, maybe three heartbeats before he shifts in his seat and faces me. “When I got here, your dad was walking out of the ER with a little girl.”
My stomach drops.
His voice is quiet now. Careful. “Who is she, Landyn?”
I try to look away, but he doesn’t let me, his eyes pinned to mine.
“Lan, is she yours?” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Do you have a daughter?”
I can’t run from it anymore.
I take a deep breath, my heart rattling against my ribcage.
“Yes.”
THIRTY-ONE
Ford
Yes.
A single word that hits like a fist to the chest.
I don’t move. I can’t.
