Page 3 of Bourbon & Bikers

“What...what about Chloe?”

“I’m signing over full custody. Those papers are in there too. But I promise I’ll send you money for her care every month. I’ll live up to my responsibilities.”

“Live up to your responsibilities?” I’d screeched. “Gallivanting around the world while I raise our child alone is not living up to your responsibilities.”

“I’m sorry Dawn. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. If I stay here I’ll die.”

He’d walked over to the bed and slid out a full duffel bag from underneath. The bastard had already packed to leave. He threw it over his shoulder and gave me a sad smile.

“I know you hate me right now Dawn, but I promise you that this is for the best. For all of us. There’s a stamped envelope in with those papers. You just need to mail them back to the lawyer and he’ll take care of everything. There’s also a thousand dollars in there to get you by until I find a new job and can start sending you money.”

“A thousand dollars? Where did you get a thousand dollars? You know we’re behind on the electric bill.”

He didn’t answer, just gave me a long look, determined look. Chloe made a gurgling noise from her crib and Griff leaned over the side, kissing her cheek.

“Goodbye baby Chloe, I love you.”

And then he was gone. A month later a check came. There was no return address, but the postmark was from some place in Texas. The checks continued every month without fail, long after Chloe was grown up and out of school. The post mark changed every few years, and the amount he sent increased as well. I didn’t have any way to contact Griffin to tell him to stop sending child support, so I just socked the money away into a savings account. I figured Chloe could use it if she ever got married or bought a house.

Griff might have been a deadbeat father, but he was a generous one. With his money anyway.

Other than those checks, the only other contact we’d had with him was the cards that came on both of our birthdays and Christmas. He’d never called, emailed, or visited. Hell, we’d never even had an address or phone number for him. A couple of times when Chloe was sick I’d had the thought that if something serious ever happened, I would have no way to tell him. But then I assumed that’s what he wanted.

With the benefit of hindsight, I understood how miserable and trapped he’d felt when we were married. How miserable and trapped we’d both felt. We’d loved each other, but we were too young for the responsibilities we were handed. The difference was that Griffin ran away, while I soldiered on. I’d had no choice; my daughter needed me.

And if Griffin thought he was going to waltz back into our lives after twenty-five years like nothing had happened, he was crazy.

Chapter 3

Griffin

I stared at my daughter in amazement. Other than her eyes, she was a carbon copy of Dawn. Looking at them together, there was no doubt they were mother and daughter. They both had dark blonde hair, pale white skin, little bow mouths, and slightly upturned noses. They had similar builds, both around five six, with curves for days, although Chloe was leaner.

Dawn had grown a little softer over the years, but she looked fit and healthy. She was still beautiful. I’d seen her the minute I’d walked into the restaurant and had a deja vu moment. Just like the day I walked into chemistry class when I was seventeen, I had been struck with a jolt of excitement, a sense of rightness, and a strong desire to take her into my arms and never let her go. One word rumbled through my mind, just as it had way back then: mine.

I’d only been back around her for five minutes, but one thing was clear: I was still in love with my ex-wife. Staying away had been a huge mistake and I could tell from the look on her face that Dawn hated me. God, I was so fucked.

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

My daughter’s question drew me out of my reverie. She seemed more curious than angry, and I took that as a good sign.

“I wanted to see you.” I glanced at Dawn, who was glaring at me over Chloe’s head. “Both of you.”

“And you don’t have a phone? You couldn’t have sent us an email, a message, a carrier pigeon? Anything to prepare us for this unexpected visit?” Dawn asked.

Her brown eyes sparked with anger and resentment, and I knew I deserved it.

“I was afraid if I contacted you ahead of time, you’d refuse to see me.”

“You were right,” Dawn snapped.

Chloe stood up and started pacing behind her chair.

“Why now, Dad? We haven’t seen or heard from you since I was a baby.”

I nodded. “I know. I was hoping we could talk, and I could explain. I have some things I’d like to tell you both. I know I don’t deserve your time, but I’m hoping you’ll give it to me anyway.”

“There’s nothing you have to say that I want to hear,” Dawn retorted.