I mentally prepare myself, squaring my shoulders as I walk into the house.
He’s sitting next to Brianna on our couch. Marley bounces on her knee as they coo down at her.
“Dillon,” he says in a gruff voice as he stands. Wearing khakis and a dress shirt, he’s not as tall as I am, his frame trim and wiry. His hair is dark brown and styled in a businessman cut. “You look well. I like your place. Much better than the dorms.”
He’s in my house. My eyes run over his face, seeing the extra lines added since February. His expression is hopeful, and I glance away.
“Surprise!” Brianna says rather uncertainly as she stands with Marley. “We flew in on the jet. We would have called, but…” Her eyes dart back to Dad. “Wes wanted to surprise you for your birthday.”
My words are flat. “Guess the baby isn’t teething this weekend?”
“No.” Dad gives me an awkward hug, his fingers grasping my shoulders. He pulls back, looking hesitant. “We’re staying at the Hilton in town, so we won’t crowd your space. Planning on being here when you play tomorrow. We’ve already gotten our seats. Marley’s going to her first football game to see her brother…”
Brother. The word hurts, and I suck in a breath.
Brianna thrusts Marley into my arms, and I blink.
“Aw, she’s smiling at you,” Brianna says.
“Probably gas,” Dad jokes.
She’s adorable, big cheeks and curly brown hair the color of his. I shift around uncomfortably.
“Here, put her on your hip,” Brianna says, moving her around on my frame. “She’s much bigger since you saw her in February.”
“Yeah.”
Marley spits up then giggles as Brianna wipes the milk on her bib. I take in the orange and navy shirt she’s wearing with the Waylon logo on it. They must have ordered it online or made a run to the student center store, I guess.
I swallow, feeling weird, as if this is happening to someone else. I don’t recall holding her in February. Maybe because she was too little, or maybe I didn’t want to. “She’s cute,” I say, the words feeling ripped from my chest.
Sawyer slides in, clearly trying to smooth over my familial issues. “They haven’t eaten yet and I ordered pizza.”
“Pepperoni for the guys and veggie for Brianna,” Dad adds with a smile. It looks a little forced. Yeah, yeah, I feel that too.
We manage a strange, stilted meal. Dad asks me questions about Mom, and I tell him she’s texted a few times to update me on the wedding plans. He tells me about a new hotel they’re building in London, about the day Marley crawled for the first time…
Brianna feeds Marley baby food with a dainty spoon, something orange.
“What is that?” I ask, searching for topics. It feels as if I’m in a parallel universe, but I’m trying to roll with it.
“Sweet potatoes. They’re her favorite. Wes said they were your fav too,” Brianna replies.
As if to show her agreement, Marley giggles, her nose scrunching up, and a bubble of orange goo comes out of her mouth. I’m struck by the pale blue color of her eyes.
“She looks like Myles,” Dad murmurs next to me.
A ball of emotion clogs up my throat. Suddenly, it’s too much, this shitty week, him surprising me, him gazing at Marley…
“Yeah, she does.” I wipe my face and stand. “Excuse me, I need…”—a minute—“…a walk.”
I dart for the door and step outside. The late October air is crisp, and I drag in a deep breath as Dad jogs up next to me. “Let me join you.”
“Alright.” We don’t look at each other, our paces in sync as we walk. When we get to the end of my block, I can’t stand it any longer. “Why are you here?”
He sticks his hands in his pockets. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, and I wanted to see you. You weren’t answering my calls. Maybe you had the right not to.”
“I see.” I really don’t.
He flashes a careful, searching look at me. “Dillon, we need to talk. I left your mother at a terrible time, right after Myles—”
“You left me.” My stomach churns as I stop to turn and look at him. I feel off-centered and disoriented, as if I’m unraveling. Part of it is the loss of Serena, the way my game is falling apart, and I can’t stop the spiral. I’m stuck in a black pit, itching to crawl out, but I can’t find the energy.
His blue eyes meet mine and a nod comes from him, almost hesitant. “You think I blamed you, and I did. I blamed everyone—myself, you, your mom, the postman, the grocer, the water, the rocks, the air itself. I sank down into an awful place and I forgot about the people—you—who depended on me. Then, I met Brianna. I didn’t plan on meeting someone new and starting a family, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”
I shrug. “You’re not even my real dad.”
“Dillon…” He opens his mouth, looking for words. He exhales. “Son, I raised you from the age of two. You are mine in my heart.”
“I thought I was,” I say softly.
Regret is etched in his voice when he replies, “Grief ate me alive until I didn’t have anything left. I wanted out of that house, away from everything that reminded me of him. You’re going to have a new sibling next year. I want us to…” His voice catches. “Be a family. I want you to forgive me for leaving, for not being the father you deserve.”
A long pause stretches. My teeth grit to keep from blurting out that I love him, that I missed him, that I want to know Marley, that I want him in my life so
