Page 16

SIXTEEN

ROGUE

My heart is pounding as I pull up to the park. This is it. After five long years, I'm finally going to meet my daughter.

I spot Willow sitting on a bench near the playground, Wren playing on the swings nearby. My breath catches in my throat as I watch her, her dark curls bouncing as she swings higher and higher. She's even more beautiful than in the picture Willow showed me.

Willow sees me approach and stands, her body tense. I can't blame her for being wary.

"Hey," I say softly as I reach them. "Thanks for letting me come."

Willow nods, her eyes never leaving Wren. "Remember what we talked about," she says. "You're just a friend for now."

"I understand," I assure her.

Willow calls Wren over, and I feel my heart skip a beat as my daughter runs toward us. She looks at me curiously, her big eyes—my eyes—taking me in.

"Wren, honey," Willow says, kneeling down to her level, "this is my friend, Rogue. He wanted to meet you."

"Hi, Wren," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "It's nice to meet you."

Wren looks up at me, a shy smile on her face. "Hi," she says. "Do you want to see me go down the big slide?"

I glance at Willow, who gives a small nod. "I'd love to," I tell Wren.

As Wren leads me to the slide, chattering excitedly, I feel a lump form in my throat. This amazing little girl is my daughter. I've missed so much, but I'm determined not to miss any more.

We spend the next hour playing on the playground. Wren shows me all her favorite equipment, and I push her on the swings, reveling in her delighted giggles. Willow watches from the bench, her expression a mixture of caution and something softer—something I can't quite read.

As the sun starts to set, Willow calls Wren over. "Time to go home, Little Bird," she says.

Wren pouts for a moment but doesn't argue. She turns to me with a bright smile. "Will you come play again sometime?" she asks.

I look to Willow, who gives a slight nod. "I'd like that," I tell Wren. "If it's okay with your mom."

As Willow helps Wren gather her things, I pull her aside for a moment. "Thank you," I say softly. "For letting me meet her. She's incredible, Willow. You've done an amazing job with her."

Willow's eyes soften slightly. "She is pretty great," she agrees.

“I meant what I said before," I continue. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened between us. You deserved better, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you both."

Willow looks at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nods slightly. "I appreciate that," she says softly.

I can see the walls she's built around herself, the caution in her eyes. But there's also a hint of the Willow I used to know—strong, compassionate, loving. God, I've missed her.

"Little Flower," I say gently, using the old nickname without thinking, "I know it'll take time, but I hope someday you can forgive me. I want to be someone you and Wren can count on."

To my surprise, Willow doesn't flinch at the nickname. Instead, her eyes soften further. "We'll see," she says, but there's less edge to her voice now.

On impulse, I lean in and press a soft kiss to her cheek. "Thank you again," I murmur.

For a moment, Willow leans into me slightly, and I catch a whiff of her familiar scent. Then she steps back, composing herself.

"We should go," she says, her voice steady. "Say goodbye to Rogue, Wren."

Wren runs up and throws her arms around my legs. "Bye, Rogue! Thanks for playing with me!"

I kneel down to her level, my heart swelling. "Thanks for letting me play with you, sweetheart. I had a great time."

As I watch Willow and Wren walk away, hand in hand, I feel a mixture of emotions. Joy at finally meeting my daughter. Sadness for all the time I've missed. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I can be part of their lives going forward.

I know I have a long way to go to earn Willow's trust back. But for the first time in five years, I feel like I have a chance. And I'm not going to waste it.

I enter the clubhouse, my emotions a roiling mess after meeting Wren. The joy of finally seeing my daughter is warring with the pain of all I've missed and the guilt over how I treated Willow. I head straight for the bar, grab a bottle of whiskey, and pour myself a generous glass.

"How'd it go, brother?" Hades asks, approaching cautiously.

I down the whiskey in one gulp, relishing the burn. "She's perfect," I growl. "And I've fucked everything up."

The next few hours pass in a blur. I’m ecstatic, fucking proud that I’m a dad. My daughter is amazing. Hades stays and shoots the shit with me, asking questions about Wren. We drink and talk about my little girl. Hades can’t wait to meet her and has already claimed the best uncle title.

By the time most of the brothers have cleared out, I'm well and truly drunk. The anger I’ve been holding on to since finding out that I have a daughter is simmering just below the surface.

"Rogue," Ghost's voice cuts through my haze. "We need to talk."

I glare at him, not in the mood for one of his lectures. "Fuck off, Ghost."

He doesn't back down. "This shit can't continue, brother. You've been drinking too much, picking fights. It's affecting the club."

His words ignite the anger I've been trying to drown. "The club?" I snarl, standing up unsteadily. "The fucking club is why I lost Willow in the first place!"

Ghost's eyes narrow. "We've been through this. We all made mistakes back then."

"Yeah, and I'm the one paying for them!" I shout, shoving him hard.

Ghost stumbles back a step but doesn't retaliate. "Rogue, you need to calm down. This isn't helping anyone."

But I'm too far gone to listen to reason. All the pain and guilt I've been carrying for years comes pouring out in a torrent of rage. "You don't get it, Ghost! I met my daughter today. My fucking daughter! And I'm a stranger to her because of what we did!"

Ghost tries to put a hand on my shoulder, but I shake him off violently. "Brother, I understand you're hurting?—"

That's the last straw. With a roar of fury, I swing at Ghost. My fist connects with his jaw, sending him staggering back.

For a moment, shock flashes across Ghost's face. Then his expression hardens. "Alright," he growls. "If this is what you need to get your head straight, let's go."

What follows is a brutal, no-holds-barred brawl. We've sparred before, but this is different. This is years of pent-up anger and guilt being released in a flurry of fists and grunts of pain.

I manage to land a solid hit to Ghost's ribs, but he retaliates with a punch that sends me crashing into a table. We grapple on the ground, trading blows, neither of us willing to back down.

Finally, exhausted and bloody, we both collapse on the floor of the clubhouse. For a few moments, the only sound is our heavy breathing.

"Feel better now, asshole?" Ghost pants, wiping blood from his split lip.

I grunt, wincing as I sit up. My eye is already swelling shut and I can taste blood in my mouth. "Not really," I admit.

Ghost lets out a humorless laugh. "Good. Maybe now you'll listen to reason."

I lean back against the overturned table, suddenly feeling every one of my twenty-eight years. "I fucked up, Ghost," I say quietly. "With Willow, with Wren. I don't know how to make it right."

Ghost sits up with a groan, his hand going to his ribs. "You start by getting your shit together," he says bluntly. "Drinking yourself stupid and picking fights isn't going to win Willow's trust back or be good for Wren."

I nod, knowing he's right. "I just... I look at Wren and I see everything I've missed. It kills me, man."

Ghost's expression softens slightly. "I get it, brother. But you can't change the past. All you can do is be better going forward. For Wren's sake, and for your own."

We sit in silence for a while, both lost in thought. Finally, Ghost speaks again.

"You know, when Natalia told me she was pregnant, I was terrified," he admits. "Thought I'd make all the same mistakes my old man did. But then I realized, I get to choose what kind of father I want to be. So do you, Rogue."

His words hit me hard. He's right. I can't change what happened, but I can choose who I want to be for Wren now.

"I want to be someone she can be proud of," I say softly. "Someone Willow can trust with our daughter."

Ghost nods approvingly. "That's a good start. Now you’ve just gotta put in the work to make it happen."

I push myself to my feet, offering Ghost a hand up. "Thanks, brother," I say sincerely. "I needed that ass-kicking."

Ghost grins, then winces as it pulls at his split lip. "Anytime. But maybe next time we can skip the physical part and just talk, yeah?"

I chuckle, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. "Where's the fun in that?"

As we start cleaning up the mess we made of the clubhouse, I realize Ghost is right. I can't change the past, but I can shape the future. And for Wren's sake, I'm determined to be the best version of myself possible.

It won't be easy. I've got a lot of demons to face, a lot of trust to rebuild with Willow. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m on the right path.