Page 82 of Claiming What's Mine

“Yeah, okay,” I said, with a slight chuckle.

She's playing a trick on me, trying to see how I'll act.

Blue took a step closer, her fingers plucking and fiddling with her bottom lip. “Bliss, sheisyour—our daughter.”

“You're serious?” I asked as thick lines crept across my forehead. “Because if you're trying to screw me with or something, it's not funny.”

“It's not a joke, I've wanted to tell you since the beginning, but I couldn't.” Crossing her arms, she kept nibbling her bottom lip with her teeth, staring at me with fear in her eyes.

I didn't know what to say

“Bliss isreallymy daughter? She's my child?” Nodding, Blue took another step in, her eyes peering up at me under hooded lids. “How is that possible?” I asked, my eyes blazed with confusion.

None of this was making sense. We had sex one time when we were younger, that was it. Bliss had to be the product of Blue's marriage, that made sense, that was the only thing that seemed plausible.

“Do I really need to explain that part?” Blue tried to force a smile, but it was easy to see she was nervous as hell.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I stood with my eyes open wide. “I don't believe this. You were married before, we haven't been together in years, how could she be mine?”

“Jayden,” Blue said, reaching out and gripping my arm. “I was two months pregnant the day you came to my house. Bliss was born May eighth, two thousand and nine, she weighed seven pounds six ounces, and she has your eyes, your nose—and your stubbornness.” Taking her wallet out of her purse, she pulled out a picture of Bliss when she was really little, and passed it to me. “Just look at her.

Holding that picture, it felt like I was peering into my own eyes at her age. All I could see was myself. Her smile, the way her hair curled up around her ears, her high cheekbones and chunky round face.

Cocking my head, I held the picture up to my face, trying to get a closer look. I was hesitant to believe her, even though Bliss really did have so many of the Henry traits. The color of her hair, the little bump at the end of her nose, the same thin lips.

Handing me a second picture, Blue said, “This is her school picture from kindergarten.” Digging around in her wallet, she took out another small picture, but this one was old and tattered, yellow in color. “Here, hold them side by side.”

The picture was of me, same grade as Bliss, wearing a blue and yellow striped shirt that was way to big for my small frame. The collar was all stretched out, so I had pulled it up to my throat, the sleeves were five times thicker than the thin, spaghetti sized arms I had.

I remembered that day, my mother waking me up by brushing my hair with her fingertips, leaning close to my face as she whispered,'Jay Jay, rise and shine.'She had made me blueberry pancakes and packed me a lunch that consisted of a bologna sandwich and cream filled cookies.

That memory was one of my favorites. It was so vivid, each and every moment of that day I could give you detail for detail.

“You still have this?”

“Yeah,” she said, a shy smile teasing her lips as she nodded. “I have them all still.”

After Blue and I had started dating, we were going through my father's closet while he was out getting drunk one day, and came across a box of old school photos. I only had pictures up to third grade, because that was the year my mother died.

I was ten years old, and it wasn't until she was at the very end of her life that I learned what was happening. She had gotten really skinny, her hair was super thin, her face sunken in around her cheeks and eyes. It all happened so fast, an aggressive parasite that was eating her away on the inside.

My mother had breast cancer. It wasn't until I was older that I found out she had been diagnosed while she was pregnant with my sister. The doctors wanted to help her, and there was a chance they could have, but she refused to do anything that might harm the baby growing in her belly.

It was possible that my father's anger came from that, from the fact that my mother would rather save her child than save herself.

She was selfless, and in the end, she gave her life for my sister.

Thumbing the dulled edge of the photo, I slid Bliss up beside my small face, and stared in shock.

Holy shit, she really is my daughter.

Suddenly, feelings of betrayal and anger started to smother me. My chest became tight, like there was a boulder sitting on my ribs, my blood began to boil, percolating under the skin. The nerves behind my eyes began to throb and pulse, causing a tick in my eyelids.

I have a daughter, and I had no clue she existed.

This wasn't just a secret she had kept from me all these years, this was another life, this was something I had helped create, that was half of me. Bliss was as much a part of me as she was Blue.

How could she keep this from me?

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