The rules won’t be ignored again.
There’s a quiet knock on the door, and I know it must be Avery. Anyone else would ring the doorbell.
Not wanting Piper to know Avery’s here, I open the door enough to stick my head out.
There are bags under Avery's eyes, and her normal perfect hair is flat against her skull. She’s beautiful.
I close my eyes for a moment, reminding myself what’s most important. Piper. Piper is all that matters. I can’t let her down again.
My teeth grit, remembering how I let her down in the first place.
“Can we talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I said from the start absolutely no chance of a relationship. I got carried away, and it was stupid. Wrong.”
“But Knox,” Avery says, and lifts her hand like she wants to touch me. I move back, and her hand hangs in the air between us before dropping to her side.
“That’s the way it has to be.”
“Why? Why does it have to be that way? You’re allowed to have a relationship. You’re allowed to think of your own happiness.”
My eyes narrow at her. She doesn’t get it. Doesn’t understand how my job is to protect Piper from getting hurt, and failed. Failed because I was too busy thinking of myself and my dick.
Failed because I let someone else get close to Piper, and wasn’t able to protect Piper against Avery or her friend’s bad advice.
“It does. I messed up on Piper, and I won’t let it happen again. I have to go,” I say and shut the door before I end up pulling her into my arms.
Avery’s muffled voice comes through the door, but I walk away. I go into the kitchen, where I can’t hear her. Piper is sitting at the table, a vacant look in her eyes and she stares at the iPad screen.
“You want to know about your mother? You should’ve asked me.”
“I do. You never tell me anything.”
“What do you want to know? I didn’t know her very well, and after you were born she left and I never heard from her again.”
Piper flicks around on the screen and shoves it in front of me. A Facebook profile of Brandi is on the screen.
“Is this her?” she asks.
I take the iPad, and scroll through a bunch of photos of Brandi. There’s a wedding photo, but it’s not the guy she left me for.
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“But why didn’t she want me? Why didn’t she want to come to my graduation?”
“Because she’s selfish and stupid. And we don’t need her.”
“But why?” Her eyes are wide with confusion, and I resist smashing the iPad against the wall and throwing the table across the room.
“Some people are selfish, and it’s hard for people like us to ever understand them. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. I wish there was something I could do, but I’m afraid the best thing is just to get on with living life.”
“But you don’t get on living your life. You never had a girlfriend before Avery.”
I push the thought of Avery out of my head. Piper is my priority.
Piper shakes her head, and says, “You must’ve really loved her.”
I can’t tell me daughter she’s the product of a meaningless bar pick-up.
“I never loved her. Trust me.”
“Then why did you have a baby with her?”
I don’t say anything while I try to figure out the right words in my head.
“Unless you’re saying I was an accident.”
“We were young, and it happened.”
“But if you didn’t love her, why didn’t you ever find someone else to love?”
“I did. You.”
“Me?” she says, smiling.
“Yes, Piper. You.”
My entire life has been about you. And if it wasn’t for me fucking up, we could’ve avoided the heartache and a missed graduation ceremony. How can I ever forgive myself for that?
Piper takes the iPad from my hands and closes Facebook. I smile, and stroke her hair.
I make a coffee, and sit at the table drinking it while Piper messes around online. She starts watching YouTube videos on hair and nails or something. I stare at the YouTube logo in the corner, thinking of Avery.
My throat tightens, but I force coffee down it to warm it up. My feelings for Avery don’t matter. I have to remember that.
“Is Avery coming for supper tonight?” Piper asks, looking up from the screen.
“Not tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No. But I don’t mind if you go visit her at her house sometime.”
Piper’s mouth drops, and she stares at me wide eyed. I take a drink of my coffee and try to ignore her.
“Does that mean you broke up?”
That the phrase I swore to fucking God my child would never have to ask me. Not after all the times I had to ask my mother it. Not after all the times I got my hopes up, only to have it stamped out.