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She didn’t slow, she just increased her pace like she was running from a monster.
I might have been, but I would never fucking hurt her that way.
Neither of them. Devotion boiled inside me at the thought.
A swell of protectiveness so severe it made my head spin.
I might have been twisted by the confusion and shock, but still, I knew.
I fucking knew.
“Emery,” I shouted again, basically begging it that time.
I ran up behind her, catching up to her as she hit the sidewalk. I grabbed her by the wrist and whirled her around. I was struck again by the swilling of her presence when I looked at the torment that covered her face.
“Please don’t take off like this. We need to talk.” My words were grit. Ragged with the plea.
She tugged her arm free, though she remained right there, her head tipped back as she hit me with her potency. With her own protectiveness that crashed out on an inundating wave.
“I already gave you the chance for that.”
She started to turn and walk, and the words were flying off mytongue, “Yeah, and you showed up here and told me I have a kid that is four years old that I didn’t know about. You think it wouldn’t take me a minute to wrap my head around that?”
She was facing away, shoulders sagging when she blew the strained words out like sorrow. “You don’t even remember her.”
Anxiety buzzed through me, and I shifted from foot to foot. “That doesn’t mean I don’t recognize what is in that picture you just showed me.”
My spirit clutched.
My kid.
Shouldn’t be possible. I was careful. Always. But one look, and there was no question.
Emery stayed like that for the longest time, a tumult spinning around her, her body vibrating as she worked through whatever she was thinking. Then she shifted to look back at me from over her shoulder.
She was trembling as she forced out the words. “You don’t need to worry about Maci. I have her.”
She started back up the sidewalk.
I blinked, unable to believe what she’d said. What she’d claimed.
Like I was just going to forget what I’d just learned?
She’d made it ten steps when I called, “Know you think you have me pegged, but you’re wrong. Not going to turn my back on my daughter. She’s my responsibility.”
Emery slowed before she finally shifted to face me.
Nearly blew me back when I saw the deluge of tears that covered her face.
The grief.
The sorrow.
The torment she’d endured.
“She’s your responsibility?” Her head barely shook. “She’s a four-year-old little girl who just lost her mother. A four-year-old little girl who doesn’t understand what’s happened. A four-year-old little girl who’s had her life turned upside down. One who needs care and compassion. This isn’t about responsibility, Kane. This is about family. This is aboutlove.”
She emphasized the last by jamming her index finger toward the ground.