Page 58 of The Convict Gets His Girl

"There's a lot to unpack there. How do you feel about the idea of being a dad?" Tasha asked.

Chase took a deep breath, his fingers tracing the seam of his jeans. "Honestly? I'm terrified. I never thought I'd be in this position. After everything I went through in prison, the last thing I expected was to potentially be a father."

Zarrel leaned forward, his massive frame somehow looking vulnerable. "You'll do better than most, Chase. I've seen how you are with people. Patient. Thoughtful. Observant."

Tasha made a note, her pen moving smoothly across the page. "Are you scared? Excited? Nervous?"

"All of it," Chase said, a bitter laugh escaping. "I spent years in prison trying to rebuild my life, make something of myself after my mistakes and prove to everyone that I wasn't just a screw up. And now this—this potential daughter—if she's mine, it will just affirm to my parents that I'm their most fucked-up offspring."

"Ah, still haven't talked with them about how they've treated you, eh?" Zarrel asked softly.

He shook his head. "When Mom got hurt, I was right there. I had tried to help the mare, and Mom tried to stop me. She asked what I thought I was doing, like I'm completely new to horses or ranching… It hurt."

"Your mom's accident wasn't your fault," Tasha said softly.

He nodded, crossing his arms and shifting on the seat with a frown. "I know that logically, but the hurt I still feel from them… It separates us, like I'm home, but I'm not really home, you know? They still won't let me help with the business or the finances or anything more than just physical labor. It's like the fact I got the bachelor's degree doesn't even register to them."

He listened to the hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of traffic, reminders that life outside this room buzzed with normalcy—a concept he grappled to join.

"That must be very frustrating. Are you going to tell them how you feel?" Tasha asked.

Chase shook his head and sighed. "No, not with all the chaos about Mom's recovery. Although Hunter has taken notice and is talking with me about all he's been learning from our dad on the business side of things."

Tasha's voice sliced through his reverie, gentle yet insistent. "That's good, but you don't seem as excited as I expected."

He shrugged and looked at a painting across the room, staring unseeing. "I'm grateful to Hunter, don't get me wrong, but it also feels like I don't deserve it. We had a big fight over something I did before I went to prison, which I finally came clean about with him. We fought about it."

"Was that the fight at poker night?" Zarrel asked. Chase nodded, his bruises long faded.

"I wondered when you were going to talk about that. You don't think he should've forgiven you?" Tasha asked. "Why not?"

Chase looked at his hands, the scars from fights over the years, the calluses. He shook his head no.

"As soon as it was over, it was like water under the bridge. He just—let it go, but it can't be that simple, can it? I definitely don't deserve his forgiveness and haven't paid my price for that like I did to society with prison," he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper, an echo of vulnerability. "Feels like I'm walking on a tightrope, and I could fall at any moment. He can't have actually forgiven me. It's never that easy."

Tasha tilted her head to the side. "He's your brother, and he loves you. Love covers a multitude of sins, so they say."

Zarrel crossed his arms, his biceps bulging as he agreed with Tasha.

Her eyes soft with empathy, she added, "Your feelings are valid though and are very common after what you've been through. But remember, Chase, that tightrope is also a path forward. Are you going to let that fear dictate your relationship with him or your future actions?"

Chase wasn't the one hanging back because of fear; that was Jewel. She'd run screaming from the cabin when he'd suggested they be something more. After they'd lost Clio and his mom had been hurt, they'd fucked seven ways to Sunday, but the next morning, she'd dropped him off at the ranch where he'd left Gladys, and that was that. He hadn't heard from her in a few weeks, so she clearly didn't need or want him. He'd reached out by text, left two voicemails, and had gone to the clinic, but had never seen her.

He'd accepted that it had been a one-time thing, but he wanted so much more. Would he ever be worthy of anyone?

Perhaps when he moved into his house, he'd have something to offer. At the least, maybe his daughter wouldn't be embarrassed by him, assuming she was his.

"No, that's why I went ahead with the house purchase. Despite being scared and nervous, it was time."

The cabin was too oppressive now, with memories of Jewel lingering everywhere he turned.

"What's got you so nervous?" Zarrel asked.

"What if I'm supposed to do some kind of maintenance, but have no idea it's supposed to happen? Like how a car needs an oil change every so many miles."

"Ah, gotcha," Zarrel said, shifting on the couch, muscles tensing beneath his shirt. "That I get, but thankfully, we live in the age of Google."

Chase snorted a laugh.

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