I close my eyes and rub my hand up the side of my cheek. “I’ll take you,” I grumble.
Halfway there, Cammy finally breaks the silence. “I came here to find you because I wanted to. Because I want you to be a part of your daughter’s life. I didn’t come here to destroy your life, your marriage, or your relationship with your family. Yet, that seems to be all I’ve done.”
“First, please don’t blame yourself for my marriage. I told you that had nothing to do with you. Second, you’re not doing much better right now,” I tell her. “Your fiancé is back in D.C., remember?”
“I don’t care,” she says. “He was cheating on me, AJ. He just thought I was dumb enough that he could pull the wool over my eyes.”
“You knew?” I ask her.
“Did you know? Because it sort of sounds like you do?” she replies.
“He said it in rage the other day but I didn’t want to use that as a secret weapon to make you fall for me. I didn’t want to manipulate you into being interested in me, and I also didn’t think it was my business.”
“AJ, you never cease to amaze me,” she says. I don’t know what she means by that, but it doesn’t feel good.
She may not care about Casper leaving her in the dust, but I can’t say I don’t care about all of the damage I caused this week. I care about forcing my wife into a hospital. I care that I should have ended things with Tori a year ago when I knew I was no good for her. “For your information, I care about everything that has happened this week, and I definitely know I don’t want to lose you two after just getting you back in my life.”
“AJ, listen, please. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but figure out your life here and once you do, there will be opportunities to explore more options for the three of us.”
“Like what?” I know what I want the answer to be, but I’m in no position to be considering a future with anyone before I legally close the last chapter in my life.
“I still love you, AJ. Remember our plans about running away together?”
“The thought of that has run through my head almost every day since we made those plans,” I say, gripping my fists tighter around the steering wheel.
“This story isn’t over. We just need to clear a path before we start off-roading.” I’m the off-roader and she’s the navigator. Always has been.
“Off-roading is meant for uncharted paths, Cammy.”
“Not this one.” Maybe that’s where I’ve always gone wrong. My shortcuts have led me into brick walls of disaster. Maybe the long winding road that takes twice as long to travel is the better option after all.
Ever still hasn’t said a word when we hop out of the truck at the car rental shop, but she wraps her arms around me, pressing her head into my chest. “I know you’re my dad,” she says. “I’ve wanted to know you since I was eight.” She shrugs at her own words. “I know it doesn’t mean much right now, but thanks for fighting for me. No one has ever fought for me before.” I have fought for you, Ever. I have fought for you since the day you were born.
Ever grabs her lone bag out of the truck and gives Gavin a small kiss on the cheek. “See you, bro. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything you need to know on how to irritate our dad.” Not much makes me cry, but that may be the best thing I’ve ever heard. Tears are threatening to erupt from the corners of my eyes and if Cammy comes one step closer, I’m going to be a goner.
Sure enough, though, Cammy steps close to me. Her arms reach up, and her hands splay across my face. “Look at me,” she says.
That did it. Tears are pouring from my eyes, making it hard for me to look at her through the blur. “Do what’s best for you and Gavin. Regardless of who has rights over who, Ever will always be your daughter—our daughter. The legal crap is just that—leave it to me, okay?”
“What about us, Cam?”
She looks down at my hand and brings it between us. “I want you to make decisions based on you. Even if you don’t have much say in the decision, pretend like there wasn’t something else better waiting for you after the decision has been made. Grieve for what is and what won’t be. Heal. And when it’s all said and done, if you’re on your own, maybe someday we can pick up where we left off thirteen years ago.”
“By that tree swing behind the occupied farmhouse?” I ask, trying to laugh a bit.
“That’s awfully specific, don’t you think?” she asks, matching my laughter.
“Maybe to you,” I tell her.