He could tell something was wrong as soon as he walked in the house. That was probably for the better. I wouldn’t want to trail him along any more than I already had. When he sat down on the couch in the living room, it felt like every word I’d ever come up with, everything I’d ever planned on saying to him, just evaporated. I’d practiced ahead of time. More times than I could even count, I came up with ways I broach the topic or how I would ease into the conversation with him. But all that disappeared as soon as he sat down.
So now I was pacing back and forth, trying to find my words again. Finally, there was really nothing else I could do. The whole thing was already a shitshow, so I didn’t know what else to do but rip off the Band-Aid. I stopped in front of Darren and stared right into his eyes.
“You have a daughter,” I blurted out. Then I drew in a breath to clarify. “We have a daughter.”
It was the moment I’d been dreading for more than two years. It was out there now. I’d said the words, and there was no way to gather them back up out of the air and stuff them back into my mouth. The announcement hung there in between us. It wasn’t in my control anymore. I’d transferred it over to him, and all I could do was wait to see what he would say. If he would say anything. It was entirely possible he would just get up and walk out of the apartment, call Quentin, and have my notice of termination emailed to me before I could get the dead bolt locked.
Darren didn’t do either. He just sat there. All he did was look at me, not speaking, not blinking. Possibly not even breathing. I took that as my cue to just keep going. I was waiting to give him more of an explanation of what happened for after he had a chance to respond, but since he didn’t do that, I just went on with it.
“Her name is Willa. She’s a little over two years old. Obviously. I fully understand if you want to do a DNA test to make sure I’m telling you the truth. But I can assure you, there is absolutely no chance whatsoever she is anybody’s but yours. At this point, I know I really don’t have a bargaining chip of any kind, but I just want to go on record as asking… can you please not take her from me? She’s my everything.”
Darren just went right on staring at me, not saying anything, not seeming to react in any way. I looked over at my sister, who moved toward the edge of the seat cushion and leaned forward toward Darren.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She lifted her hand as if she was going to reach out and pat him on the back comfortingly, but he didn’t give her the chance. Him exploding up out of his seat made Kira and I both jump back, and I gasped, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. The reaction was so sudden, so intense, I didn’t know what to expect next. He could have started screaming, which definitely would have woken up my little girl, and that wasn’t the type of introduction I ever imagined. But after a couple of seconds, there still wasn’t any screaming, and instead Darren just started pacing back and forth the way I had when he first sat down.
Somehow, that was worse. The pacing meant he didn’t know what to say or how to react. He was just building up energy and stress, and eventually it would come bursting out of him. Darren was usually such a shy, quiet guy. Even when he was being boisterous for him, it was still very subdued. But the reaction on his face right now wasn’t even close to what I was accustomed to seeing when he looked at me. At that moment he looked downright murderous.
It was my fault. There was no other way to put it, no reason to even begin to come up with excuses or find some other explanation for why he looked that way. That didn’t help. It only underscored and validated the guilt I felt every time I thought about not telling him the truth as soon as I got into town. Of course, seeing him so suddenly and so unexpectedly at the bar on his birthday wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t supposed to just suddenly run into him that way. My plan had been to settle down in the town and find my bearings in my new life, then purposely and thoughtfully track him down so I could explain the situation in a straightforward, adult way. Everything I’d ever planned had the purpose and goal of keeping any kind of tricky or complicated emotions out of the conversation.
Not that I ever was under the delusion it would be a completely emotionless conversation. There was no way I’d be able to tell a man he was a father without there being an emotional reaction. But I hoped telling him immediately would take advantage of the cooled-down tensions between us created by being separated for three years.
That wasn’t the way it worked out. I tried to lay the groundwork for still following through with my plan when I saw him at the bar. Giving him my phone number should have been the way we could reconnect, meet in a controlled and neutral environment, and have the conversation that was long overdue between us. Now that opportunity was far behind me, and I was dealing with the uncomfortable and unfortunate aftermath of it. There was no longer any chance of there not being an emotional response or a complicated situation.
I wished so much I could turn back the hands of time and do what
