by Malcom, Anne
He suspected she might’ve gotten that from her father.
Though he knew the man was not bathing in silence right now. He was stewing in it. In blame.
Because he was a good man. A good father. Heath recognized that because he knew what a bad one looked like. He spent the first sixteen years of his life looking at a bad one. Being beaten up by one.
So it became easy for him to spot a good one.
It was solidified when Pete finally spoke.
“Was it bad?” he asked.
His words were choked, forced out of him. Because Heath knew the man did not want to know. Wanted to stay in ignorance to the truest horrors his daughter encountered. It would’ve been easier for him to bear. But he was a good man and a good father, so he didn’t want easier. He didn’t want to be ignorant when his daughter had to live with horror.
Heath’s grip tightened on his steering wheel. “Yeah,” he bit out. “It was bad.”
He supposed he could’ve lied. Might’ve been kinder.
But Heath wasn’t about being kind. Only when it came to Polly. And he knew this man wouldn’t respect him if he lied. For whatever reason, this man’s respect was important to him. Beyond the fact she was Polly’s father and she adored him. It was because he wasn’t Polly’s real father.
He knew this.
He knew Polly didn’t know this.
Only reason he knew was because he’d looked into everything about Polly when he got back. Because he was half fucking insane with not having her. Not being able to control the situation.
So he’d treated it as a mission.
Gain intel.
And what he’d gained had hit him.
Hard.
Her mom getting brought into the ER by an eight-year-old Lucy carrying a two-year-old Polly. Her mom beaten to hell.
By the father that was never seen again.
Pete was the attending nurse.
They were married a handful of months later.
Polly wasn’t old enough to remember the violence, thank fuck. Lucy was. But no one told Polly. Because that family, every one around her, made it their mission to protect Polly from the little ugly truths of the world.
But they couldn’t protect her from everything.
“You love her?” Pete asked, clenching his fists.
“More than anything in this world,” he said.
Pete nodded.
“The man that hurt her?”
“Dead,” Heath said.
Again, he should’ve lied.
Pete didn’t seem shocked. Or disgusted. His shoulders sagged in relief.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Didn’t do it for you.”
“And that’s why I’m thanking you,” Pete said.
Silence lasted a little longer.
“Gonna marry her,” Heath said, breaking it for once. “Whenever she’s ready. So it could be tomorrow or two years from now. Doesn’t matter to me when. Just matters it’s happening.” He glanced to Pete. “But it matters to me that I’ll have your blessing. Because I know that shit matters to Polly. And Polly is everything to me.”
Pete smiled. “Son, she’s everything to me too. Been hoping to pass her onto a man that says what you just said. Did it against my better judgment the first time around, and that’s somethin’ I’ll carry with me. But I’m thinking you’ll make sure I don’t have to carry anything else.”
“No fucking way,” Heath promised.
“Then you’ve got my blessing.”
Polly
Heath and Dad arrived home once Mom and I had finished crying and then broken into a bottle of wine.
My dad’s face was weary the second he met my eyes like he was expecting something. A hurricane.
He and Mom had obviously planned this.
And he was scared.
Terrified.
I saw that in the man I loved and respected above all others, the younger, bearded man beside him coming in at a close second.
My wine glass hit the coffee table with enough force to spill liquid everywhere. I ignored this, Mom was already getting up to clean up after me.
I was in my dad’s arms in the next moment. He went back on his heels, but he caught me. Of course he did. He always caught me.
We were silent for a long time before he let me go.
There was a fear in his eyes, even if he didn’t say anything.
So I knew I had to.
“You’re my dad,” I said firmly. “That’s not changing. That’s never changing. You are the man who taught me how to fish. Who wiped my tears away. Who walked me down the aisle. Who didn’t judge me when I signed that paper dissolving that marriage.” I paused. “You never judged me. You never told me I was making mistakes, even though it was glaringly obvious.”
He smiled and squeezed my hands. “Honey, mistakes are different for everyone. One person’s mistake is another’s miracle. It was a mistake in the DNA of the man who fathered you that brought you to me. My biggest miracle.”
His eyes moved to where my mom was standing, most likely crying.
Then he went back to me. “My biggest accomplishment is being a father to two beautiful, and wildly different girls. And the biggest mistake I could make as a father would be to try and steer your life for you. To tell you not to do something just because it’s not how I would do it. How I would want you to do it. I want you to be happy. And to be happy, unfortunately, you’ve gotta make mistakes. Ones that hurt you, ones that kill me watching your pain. But we cannot have happiness without pain. Without mistakes.”
He paused, bringing my hands up so he could kiss them and then let them go. “So, no, sweetie. I’ll never judge you. Never doubt your spirit, your mind. You make decisions that you think serve you best at the time. That protect your peace. Even if they end up ruining it. No one person can ever tell another they’re making a mistake. Because that would mean there is one way to live life. A script. And even if there was, one of the proudest moments in my life is watching my daughters go off script. Scary as hell.”
His eyes went dark and I knew exactly what he was seeing. The future we’d almost had.
“Scarier still when it looked like I was gonna lose Lucy’s light because of her spirit,” he choked out. “But that’s a burden we all carry. And I’ll protect you as much as I can.” He glanced to Heath. “You’ve got a man that’ll do the same. Though I wish it could be as easy as finding someone who loves you the way you deserve to be loved in order to protect you from the world. That just ain’t the case. Person who’s gonna protect you the most is always you. And I’ve always known you’d do that, even if it didn’t look like it to the people on the outside. Especially because it didn’t look like that to the people on the outside. You’re one of the rarest things in this world, my little bug. And don’t you forget it.”
I was full on sobbing now.
As was Mom if the sounds behind me were anything to go by.
Dad looked to Heath.
“You got her?” he nodded to me.
I was in Heath’s arms in a heartbeat.
“I always got her.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two Weeks Later
“Hey, please don’t call me to tell me you haven’t thrown up again, I’m so very happy for you, but I’m late,” I answered Lucy’s call as I was rummaging through my purse for my keys.
Some things never changed.
“You’re always late,” Lucy replied.
I poked my tongue out at her even though she couldn’t see me.
“Don’t poke your tongue out at me,” she demanded.
I froze. Straightened. Looked around to see if Lucy was hiding in her car.
She was not.
“Are you psychic?” I asked seriously.
“Dude, if I was psychic, I would be using my powers for evil, not to spy on you,” she replied. “I just know you’re Polly.”
And she was right.
I was Polly.
Not e
xactly the same. I was scarred now. But every day, I was getting more like me. I watched the sunrise, every morning. Sometimes alone while Heath slept. Most of the time with Heath beside me. Or inside me.
I taught my classes, five times a week, multiple times a day. And I derived so much joy from it.
I still volunteered. I was helping Jay with expansion.
I still helped my friends out with whatever crazy plan one of them had.
But I also had Heath.
Really had him.
Every single day.
And he was planning for the days ahead.
Since he’d purposefully left the iPad screen onto a house listing.
I’d obviously picked it up because I was nosy.
And also because the house was beautiful.
It was by the ocean.
Old.
Beautifully restored.
It had character.
“Do you like it?” Heath murmured from behind me, arms circling me.
“No, I hate the beautiful yet quaint cottage by the sea,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled, and the sound vibrated all the way to my bones.
“Why are you teasing me with it?” I asked. I definitely couldn’t afford it, since I had little of Craig’s money left and I was planning on something else with the small amount I did have. The small amount that wouldn’t even make a dent in the deposit needed for such a house. It might’ve been quaint, but it was seaside. In L.A.
“Not teasing if you like it,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we can set up an appointment. View it. If you hate it as much as you say, we’ll keep looking. If you don’t, we’ll buy it.”
I froze.
Heath noted this, as he noted all changes, big and small so he let me go and I turned to face him.
“Buy it?” I repeated.
He nodded.
“To live in...together?” I clarified.
He grinned. “We live here together.” He gestured around the apartment. “What’s the difference if I buy you a house to build a home with you?”
“It’s different,” I snapped. “It’s grown up and real.”
“Newsflash, we are grown up and real,” he said.
“You would do that?” I whispered. “Buy a house for me?”
“For us,” he corrected. “And yeah, I’d do anything for us. For you.”
I chewed my lip. “This is a lot.”
“Babe, it’s our future we’re plannin’ not a military coo,” he said, voice amused.
I chewed my lip. “I know that,” I snapped.
He pulled me into his arms and all the stiffness that had emerged with his words melted with his touch and I relaxed into him immediately. Well, my body did. My mind was still running.
“Baby,” he murmured, cupping my face. “Talk to me.”
That was it. Talk to me. He was so direct. He saw something was bothering me, he noticed it. And that in itself was something. Because in my experience with men—and I had a lot—they didn’t notice much or distinguish the subtleties in a woman’s demeanor. Or even the fricking obvious mood changes.
And even when they did, it was rarer still for them to address it.
Men didn’t like conflict, as a rule. Of course most would like to portray different, about their lack of fear directly correlating to their abundance of ‘manhood.’ But they were terrified of fights with women. Or even heated discussions. Anything that would make them uncomfortable, they avoided like the plague.
A huge generalization, but I’d done the legwork, so to speak.
It rang true.
For every man I’d dated except Heath.
He noticed the subtleties.
And then he cared about getting to the bottom of them.
He wasn’t afraid of conflict.
Of any kind.
Shit, I loved him.
“Well, I’ve lived my life spontaneous,” I said. “I’ve never planned. And it’s been quite common for me to decide to do a cross-country road trip when I’ve got a full tank of gas and nothing on that day. Or especially if I’ve got something on that day. I’m used to that. The unknown doesn’t scare me like it does other people. But this? Plans? Future? It’s terrifying.”
He kissed me. “That’s a good thing, baby. Bein’ scared means you’re livin’, really living.”
We looked at the house the next day.
And I loved it.
“We’ll take it,” Heath said immediately the second my eyes lit up with the view of the ocean.
Heath hadn’t even blinked at the fact he had to provide the capital. “You’ve given me a home, least I can do is buy you one.”
“You’re not concerned I’m only with you for your money?” I teased.
And he had money. Not that you could tell. But considering we were buying a beachside cottage in Malibu, albeit rustic and not at all like the flashier ones around it—it was the shabbiest on the street, which was why I’d instantly fallen in love with it—it was still Malibu. And he was buying it all with cash.
“Well, I’m only with you for your looks, so it works,” he teased.
I was yet to tell everyone about the house, but I reasoned that I could tell Lucy now.
“Lucy—”
“Oh, fuck!” she hissed.
I froze, because of the utter pain in her voice.
“Lucy, are you okay, is it the baby?” I demanded, fear choking me.
“Yes it is,” she hissed. “And I was right, this baby is an asshole.”
“Lucy, I need more information.”
“That’s why I was calling,” she bit out. “To give you the information that I’m in labor. But then you had to start talking about physics and my child had to contract my womb with the power of its father’s stubbornness,” she ground out.
“Lucy, I told you, five fuckin’ minutes on the phone,” Keltan’s tight voice entered from the background.
“And I told you, when you push a baby out of your vagina, you get to make the rules. Until that point, you shut up and drive me to the place where they give me the drugs.”
“And where they’ll deliver our child,” Keltan added.
“Whatever,” she muttered.
She sounded calm.
Much too calm.
I was, however, freaking the fuck out.
“Lucy, you’re having your baby,” I chanted.
“I’m aware,” she replied. “We’ll meet you at the hospital. And I expect you to have a martini ready for me the second this baby comes out.”
Then she hung up.
* * *
I was pacing.
Pacing in a hospital, waiting for news on Lucy.
Heath was watching me.
It was like before.
Except instead of waiting for news that would shatter our world, we were waiting for news that would brighten it.
“How does it take this long? It’s crazy,” I muttered.
“I know,” Rosie put in from where she was trying to balance her soda on her belly. “Mine is going to be quick, in and out. Like a hair appointment. Two weeks from today.”
Luke caught the soda can as it toppled, resting his hand on her large bump.
“The birth of our child is nothing like a hair appointment,” he clipped.
She smiled. “Of course not.”
He frowned and glanced at his phone.
“It totally is,” she mouthed over his head.
I giggled.
Then Keltan burst into the room.
I held my breath. Because even though this was a joyous occasion, my mind was taunting me with all the things that could go wrong. Now I knew that the worst could happen, I kept bracing.
But Keltan was beaming, his eyes red. “We’ve got a daughter,” he said, voice somehow a yell and a whisper at the same time.
And then I let the joy chase away the dread.
* * *
“Sunshine.” Heath snatched me into his arms a
s I left the room, my arms were still heavy from the weight of my niece in them.
My heart still full from the sight of her and Lucy and Heath.
I leaned until Heath’s arms and he kissed my head, searched my eyes. “You okay?” he asked gently.
I knew why he was asking.
Because he was worried about what this was doing to my barren and empty womb. Seeing all the beautiful things that my sister had that I wouldn’t have. And though I did feel a pang of pain in the spot where I’d lost my child, it wasn’t as much as I’d expected.
Because I’d lost something precious and irreplaceable. But I hadn’t lost everything. I had my sister. My family.
Heath.
And just because I couldn’t grow a child inside me didn’t mean I couldn’t be a mother.
My father taught me that.
That there were plenty of children out there that needed love. And it didn’t matter whether that love was born in blood or not. I did have to discuss the idea of adoption with Heath first since being a part of a couple meant talking about things like adopting babies before you actually did one.
I had something more important to say first.
“I think we should get married,” I said in answer to his question.
He jerked.
He was silent for the longest time, long enough to think I might have to repeat myself.
I wasn’t scared he’d disagree. The man had just brought a house for me, for goodness sake. He’d stuck with me through everything. Loved me since I was eighteen.
But before I spoke, he moved. Out of my arms and down onto one knee.
And he retrieved a small box.
I gasped when he opened it.
“Are you psychic too?” I whispered, looking at the white gold, antique, oval cut diamond ring.
It was the ring. The exact ring. My ring. It was simple and beautiful. It was bursting with personality. With a story.
And there was no way Heath could’ve known I’d say what I just said. So the only reasonable possibility was that he was psychic.
It would explain a lot of things.
He grinned. “No, Sunshine, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not psychic. I’ve been carrying this around for months. Waiting. For you.” He grabbed my hand. “’Cause I knew you’d decide you’d be ready. And you’d declare it at an unexpected moment, because you’re you. And I wanted to be prepared.”