Page 39 of Through the Storm

Finally, I clear my throat. “Listen…”

She lifts a hand. “Careful.”

I nod. Fair.

“I get why you don’t trust me.” I force myself to keep it simple. Keep it honest. “I messed up. I disappeared when you needed me.”

Her expression doesn’t soften, but it doesn’t harden either.

“I’m not asking you to forget that,” I add. “I just want the chance to prove I can show up now. For you.” I hesitate. “And for the baby. In whatever way you’ll let me.”

She studies me for a long moment, like she’s deciding whether I’m worth the emotional effort.

“Okay,” she says finally. “I’d like that.”

Hope sparks in my chest so fast it feels dangerous.

Then she tilts her head, eyes bright with mischief.

“But just so you know,” she adds, “a couple of the other possible dads are here.”

Iblink. “Excuse me?”

She gestures vaguely across the yard. “Oh yeah. I haven’t talked to them yet. But statistically speaking…” She taps her chin. “You’re sitting at about thirty percent.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Thirty.”

“Give or take,” she says cheekily. “That guy by the grill? Twenty percent. Guy in the blue shirt? Strong fifteen. Underdog energy.”

I stare at her. “Are you… playing with me right now?”

She shrugs, unapologetic. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m petty like that.”

For a beat, I just look at her.

Then I laugh. Actually laugh.

“Unbelievable,” I shake my head. “You made a list, didn’t you?”

Her smile widens. “I absolutely did not.” She pauses. “Okay, maybe a mental one.”

I exhale, some of the tightness slipping away. “I deserve this.”

“Correct.” Her tone is cheerful. “Fifteen percent chance it’s his,” she continues, pointing at another guy.

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Katy.”

“What? He’s tall. Strong jawline. Good smile. A great candidate.”

“Did you seriously hook up with him, or are you just torturing me?”

The little brat just giggles.

I squeeze her hand before I think better of it. “Unbelievable. Katy Cat, you’re going to put me in an early grave.”

She grins, smug. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only a ten percent chance it’s his.”

My voice drops, low and rough.