by Claire Adams
I nodded, thinking that over.
Nancy grinned at me. “Besides, although I’m not opposed to seeing you in here every week, I think it’s time that I let you decide if you need to be in here every week. Personally, I think we could probably start going a little longer between our sessions.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” I said. I shook my head. “This has been helpful, but I feel like I’m doing a decent job of sorting things out on my own. And with everything with the new training center, I have a feeling I’m about to get pretty busy.”
“I think you’re doing a great job,” Nancy agreed. “I’ve seen a lot of progress in you since your return. I’d still like you to come in once or twice a month. Think of it as a little checkup, just to make sure that everything’s still okay. But for the moment, I don’t think we need to worry about PTSD. You seem to be adjusting fine.”
I heaved a sigh of relief. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that, too,” I joked. “For a while there, you had me worried.” No matter how many of them told me they suspected I had PTSD, I’d never believed them. My issues had nothing to do with the shit that I’d seen when I was on tour. It had everything to do with my earlier life, back in West Virginia. Those nightmares were what kept me up at night.
Had I seen some gruesome things in the time that I’d spent deployed on active duty? Absolutely. But I could deal with all of that. I could deal with killing people and sacking villages and whatever else we needed to do to ensure that we survived another day. I just couldn’t deal with the phantom memory of a leather belt cutting across my shoulder blades.
Fortunately, she understood it. Nancy laughed. “I just want you to promise me that if you do need someone to talk to, you’ll remember I’m here, whenever you need me,” she said.
“I’ll remember,” I said, even though I was definitely hoping I wouldn’t need her again.
Even though things were still up in the air with Harper, even though I had so many questions about Ava and who her father was, I didn’t feel like I needed these therapy sessions like I had when I first started seeing Harper again. I felt a lot more settled.
I felt happy. I liked the direction things were headed, even if this was never the life I had planned for myself. For the first time in my life, I started to feel like maybe I had found my place in the world. And I liked that.
29
Harper
I waited until Thursday before calling Ace back. I made excuses in my head. Mom was there, and I didn’t want to call Ace while she was there, even if Ava was feeling better and I wasn’t exactly dumping all of my responsibilities on her. And if Ava was contagious, I might still come down with something, and I didn’t want to pass that on to Ace.
Things were busy with work that week. I could tell my editor was trying slyly to get me back to full-time work without actually labeling it as that, but the stories were interesting, so I didn’t exactly want to fight it.
Even if it was wearing me out, trying to juggle all of my responsibilities.
But Thursday, I knew that I was just making excuses and that I had let things go for long enough. I had promised Ace that I would call him once Ava was feeling better, and I had to do that. Not only that, but I had to tell him about her.
I swallowed hard. I still couldn’t seem to be as optimistic about the outcome as Mom was. I knew part of it was that she just wanted the best for Ava and for me. If she believed in a good outcome, then it would come true.
It was also that, even though she had never met Ace, she assumed he was a good, responsible guy. After all, why else would I want to be with him? She assumed that once I told him about Ava, he would step up to the plate and be the best father there could be. After all, that’s what my dad had done when he’d found out about me.
I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but I didn’t really believe that’s what was going to happen. It wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows between us.
There were two options that I could see. The first was that he would deny it, tell me that Ava couldn’t possibly be his, and say that he never wanted to see me again. The second option was that he was going to be angry I’d never told him about Ava, that he’d missed out on so many of her firsts, and then he was going to fight me for custody.
I couldn’t see a good outcome either way.
The worst part was thinking about how all of this would affect Ava. I’d tried to move slowly with Ace so that she wouldn’t get too attached to him right away. But she was already asking about “Mr. Ace” and the doggy in the vest, and I didn’t know what to say.
In option one, she would never see Ace again, and when she grew up and found out about him, she would probably be upset that he hadn’t wanted to be part of her life because I wouldn’t be able to lie about that forever. In option two, we might have to go to court and fight over her, and she was too young to understand what all of that meant.
I wanted to do what was best for Ava. For the longest time, I had thought that that meant lying to Ace about her, not letting him know the truth. But now, I was starting to think that maybe I’d been wrong about that. Only now, it was too late to do things the right way. Ace and I were too deep into this already.
My stomach was in knots while I waited for Ace to answer his phone.
“Hey!” he said brightly when he finally picked up. “How are you? How’s Ava doing?”
“Good,” I said. I cleared my throat. “We’re both good. Sorry, I know it’s been a while.”
“That’s okay,” Ace said. “I’m just glad to hear that you’re doing okay. I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to come check up on both of you.”
“It’s just been busy with work. And Mom finally left this morning,” I told him.
Ace hummed in response. “So, do I get to see your pretty face sometime soon?” he asked. “Maybe this weekend?”
“I’m free tonight,” I blurted out. The truth was, I had been psyching myself up to this all week, and now I just wanted it to be over, one way or the other. Telling Ace the truth was frightening, but I knew that it had to be done, and the more I waited, the guiltier I was going to feel.
“Okay,” Ace said, sounding taken aback. “I’m free, too. Why don’t we go for dinner?”
“Sounds great,” I said. “Why don’t I come over to your place around seven, and we can go from there?”
“Sure,” Ace said. He still sounded a little confused, and I wondered if he knew that something was up. But it didn’t really matter either way. I doubted he was going to be able to figure it out on his own. If he was able to, he would have already done so. We would have talked about Ava a long time ago.
I spent the rest of the day puttering around my home office. The knot in my stomach got progressively worse, even though I’d already done my best to prepare for the worst that could happen. I just didn’t want to lose Ace. I wanted to pretend that this was just another date, that we were going to go out and have a good time and maybe end up kissing in his truck again.
But that wasn’t the way tonight was going to play out.
I was starting to wonder if I really had to do this, but I knew I did. I should have told him about Ava ages ago. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.
Finally, it was time for me to head over to his place.
“Good luck,” Maisie said from the doorway.
“Thanks,” I sighed, accepting her hug of support. I bent down and kissed Ava good night. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay, pumpkin?"
“Okay, Mama,” Ava said, already wandering off to play.
I smiled after her, reminding myself that this was all about her. Ace needed to know the truth about her so that he could decide how he wanted to be involved in her life. It wasn’t fair for me to keep the two of them apart.
I knocked on Ace’s door and waited for him to answer. When he did, he pulled me into a quick hug. “Hey,” he said, but he seemed subdued.
I frow
ned, wondering if something had happened at work. “How was your day?” I asked.
“It was fine,” Ace said, shrugging. “Nothing unusual.”
That wasn’t exactly the response that I’d been looking for, and it didn’t really give me any way to build off it either. I shrugged to myself as we got in his truck. Maybe there was nothing off about him at all. Maybe I was just reading too much into it, misreading my own nerves as some weirdness of his. That could be it.
Shit, I was so nervous.
We went to a Japanese steakhouse, one that I’d mentioned wanting to try. I was surprised that Ace remembered it. But then again, he seemed to be filing away everything that I said to him. As though he was really in this for good.
I swallowed hard, hiding my face behind my menu for the moment as I tried to compose myself. We ordered our food, and I drummed my fingers against the table anxiously. I couldn’t think of a single thing to talk about other than the Big Truth: that Ava was Ace’s daughter.
But could I tell him that now, before we even had our food? I felt like maybe I should wait. If he was going to storm out and resolve to never speak to me again, we should at least have dinner first, right?
One last, sweet dinner together. Not that Ace was acting particularly sweet that night. He was still so distant. “Is something wrong?” I finally asked.
Ace jumped a little, giving me a guilty look. It was almost as though he hadn’t expected me to notice that there was anything off about him. But he wasn’t his normal talkative self, and he wasn’t trying to hold my hand like he normally would.
He shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said. I studied his face, but if he was lying, I couldn’t tell. I wondered if his military training had taught him to lie so seamlessly or if he had learned that skill back before.
I also wondered what had happened between our phone call and now that had soured his mood so considerably. Over the phone, he’d seemed excited to see me. Maybe a little confused when I suggested that we meet up tonight, but he’d still wanted to see me. He’d still agreed. I was racking my brains, trying to think of anything that I might have done wrong, but I kept coming up blank.
Maybe he was nervous, too. What did he have to be nervous about, though? I was the one who was about to tell him the huge news, that Ava was his daughter. I was the one gearing up for the fact that he was never going to want to date me again, not after this. Either way, he reacted, he wasn’t going to ever talk to me again, unless it was in court, through a lawyer.
I really hoped it didn’t come to that.
The air felt heavy with tension, though. For a long moment, we both just stared at each other. I was sure, now, that something was up with Ace as well. He wasn’t normally this quiet. He didn’t normally stare so seriously at me.
It was another excuse not to tell him: if he was already having a bad day, I didn’t need to heap this on top of him as well. But again, I knew that it was just an excuse. And if I didn’t tell him tonight, I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to get the courage up. There would always be another excuse.
“I have to tell you something,” I finally blurted out.
But at the same time, Ace finally opened his mouth, too: “Is Ava mine?”
I froze, staring at him. I hadn’t expected him to figure it out on his own, but apparently, he had. I wanted to believe that if he was still here, sitting across from me, then maybe he wouldn’t be so upset that I hadn’t told him. Maybe he wouldn’t storm out.
But maybe he planned to fight me for custody of her. That was still an option. I swallowed hard, trying to figure out how to explain.
30
Ace
I didn’t know what I expected Harper’s reaction to be. To be honest, I hadn’t really expected her to deny it. I guess deep down, I kind of already knew the answer: Ava really was mine. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The timing was just too perfect, and I wasn’t the only person who thought that she looked like me.
I hadn’t even been the first person to realize that she looked like me. I still wondered how I had missed it. Why it had taken me so long to connect the dots. It made so much sense.
I had been thinking of it all week. Wondering what all of it meant. Imagining a future together with Harper as my wife, raising our daughter Ava together. It was strange to think about still. It was the kind of life that I had never really imagined for myself. In fact, it was the kind of life that I’d thought I wouldn’t want.
But I kept thinking back to the other night, sipping soup together in Harper’s kitchen. It had felt so domestic, but I’d liked it. Maybe that was the kind of future that I wanted. With Harper, things were so much more comfortable than I’d ever imagined they could be. We just worked together. And with Ava, somehow I wasn’t so scared of turning into my father. I could never do that to her.
I started to think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Ava was my daughter. And I just had to know the truth, for sure. Otherwise, my mind was going to run away with all these crazy scenarios and finding out that Ava wasn’t my daughter was going to be difficult.
I’d debated calling Nancy back and asking if we could talk over all of that. But it was the same stuff that we’d talked about in our previous appointment. And Harper was the one that I wanted to talk to anyway.
Harper’s reaction only proved that I was right, too. She froze, her mouth open, just staring at me.
“Harper?”
I thought about what she had said at the same time, that she had something to tell me. Was that what she was going to tell me?
I waited for the anger to come. She hadn’t told me about Ava all those years ago, when she’d first gotten pregnant. Instead, she had just disappeared. I’d thought that I would never see her again. And if Ava really was mine, that wasn’t fair. She hadn’t let me choose to be there for my daughter. If I hadn’t run into Harper by chance, I might never have even known about the girl.
But I didn’t feel angry. Instead, I just felt depressed.
Maybe there was a reason Harper had never told me. Maybe she didn’t want me in our daughter’s life. She didn’t know the specifics of my past, but she knew enough about me, from when she’d interviewed me. Maybe she didn’t think I was fit to be a dad. Maybe she expected me to be like some of the other veterans, their lives ruled by nightmares and guilt and PTSD.
She still didn’t say anything.
“Harper, is that what you were going to tell me?” I tried again. “Ava, she’s my kid?”
“How did you know?” Harper asked, her voice barely audible.
And that wasn’t the reaction that I’d been waiting for. That was when the anger started. I shook my head in disgust. She couldn’t even say it out loud, could she?
“Actually, Sadie was the one to figure it out. She thought it was pretty obvious that Ava looked like me, and one of the days while we were working with Vixen, she made the mistake of asking if you and our daughter were going to come to the park as well.”
Harper flinched as though I’d hit her. “Our daughter,” she repeated, her voice still quiet. She bit her lip and looked away.
“How could you not tell me?”
Harper sighed. “It wasn’t that easy,” she said.
“Bullshit,” I said, shaking my head. “All you had to do was say that Ava was mine. We’ve been dating. And sleeping together. And you’ve been lying to me this whole time. I mean, I understand that things were different when I was still overseas—maybe then it would have been difficult to tell me. But now?”
Harper opened her mouth to say something, but I’d had it by now. This whole thing had been a mistake. I should have realized that she hadn’t been telling me the truth about Ava. And that she wasn’t going to own up to it even when confronted with the fact that I knew.
I stood abruptly, not giving her the chance to say anything. What could she say anyway? All she’d be able to do was make excuses, and I didn’t want to hear them. I didn’t want to hear that she was doi
ng what she thought was right for our daughter. That every decision about our daughter’s life was hers. It wasn’t fair. If I had only known about Ava, things might have been different.
That was a lie; I knew that. And I knew that that was part of what I was so frustrated and angry about.
Even if I’d known about Ava, I probably would have done things the same way. With the possible exception of coming back to somewhere other than Boston. I just hadn’t been ready to handle it three years ago. Even three weeks ago, if she had told me straight up, when I first saw Harper again, I wasn’t sure that I would have been able to handle that knowledge. But I still didn’t know why she hadn’t told me. It wasn’t fair for her to keep that knowledge from me.
“You can’t just leave,” Harper said desperately, reaching out to grab my hand. “Come on, we just ordered. Our food will be here soon. Let’s talk about this. About Ava. You’re right, she is yours. Let’s talk about that.”
But I pulled away from her. “I’m not hungry,” I said shortly. “And I’ll talk to you soon. About Ava. But not right now.” With that, I turned and walked out the door.
For a moment, I stood there in the parking lot, fingering my keys. I shouldn’t drive now, not feeling like this. It was miles back to my place, but I started walking.
I half wondered if I was walking just to make it easier for Harper to follow me. But she didn’t chase after me, and to be honest, that was probably a good thing. I didn’t think I could handle talking civilly to her right now. I needed to calm down first.
Walking helped anyway. It gave me an outlet to work off the angry energy. And it gave me plenty of time to think things through. By the time I reached my place, I felt more depressed than anything else. I had thought that things were going so well with Harper, but now it seemed like she had never been treating it like a real relationship. It was like all she wanted was a few dates, a little bit of fun. When was she planning on breaking it off with me?