Page 63 of Only for Love

“Where is she?” My voice breaks. I know it. Can’t stop it. Just… “What’s her name?”

Emma’s face twists; her chin falls, letting her golden hair obscure her gaze.

I don’t know what she’s going to tell me.Ifshe’ll share. Not that I deserve anything. But I’ll beg. “You have to tell me.”

Her chin juts up, and sudden anger radiates from her. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

She’s right. I left my girl and my child.My child. Fuck me, fuck me. I swallow against churning nausea and move forward, crawling toward the epitome of everything I’ve let down. “I didn’t know.”

“How would you have?” Emma’s ice cold. The emotion is wiped from her face as if she’s morphed into a different person. Pulling a blanket around her chest, she scoots out of bed and toward a suitcase on the floor. In a mechanical, efficient way, she pulls on panties and pajamas, semi-shielding herself. Once covered in a baggy T-shirt and flannel pants, she drops the blanket. “What was I supposed to do?”

My mouth opens, but I’ve got nothing.

“You should go, Grayson.” She doesn’t look at me and walks out.

I’m left cold, shaking from the news and the aftereffects of PTSD meltdown avoidance. My nerves are shot. My adrenaline’s still kicking, changing my begging to anger. “What were you supposed to do?You find me. You track me down and say ‘game changer.’ That it isn’t about you and me anymore. It’s not about you making me promise on the beach to never say good-bye, or me loving you so damn hard I knew that was the only memory I’d ever need.” I follow her into the hall. “Do you hear me, Emma? You. Find. Me.”

She spins, arms thrown out. “God, like it's that simple.” Her hands tear into her hair, and she growls, deep and devastated. “One day you’re here, the next day you’re gone. One day you were with me…”

The heavy thud in my heart starts again. My chest aches. “If I had known…”

Her cold eyes hold mine, and she shakes her head. “You don’t get to say that.”

I heave out a breath, hoping to dissipate the fight-or-flight reflex that strangles me again. I’m on a roller coaster of crazy that I’m struggling to control.Thump, thump, thump. My heartbeat pushes into my throat. A fresh panic attack is inches away. I turn, lean into the wall, and press my forehead to it so hard it hurts. My fists ball. My shoulders tingle. My skin’s needled, a terrifying, electrifying sensation ripping me apart. I need to get out of here. Just run. Pound pavement until I can’t take another stride.

Help…

I push past Emma, needing the front door and its sweet release.

“She looks just like you, Gray.”

God. My heart shreds to a million pieces. Pain I didn’t know existed… it’s unfathomable. My legs turn liquid. Agony rips through me as I hit my knees. I’m going to implode. I just need to get out the door to fresh air… but I can’t.

“Where the hell is she?” Tears stain my words. My throat cracks, and I can’t say more.

Emma’s steps approach me slowly. Each one takes an eternity. “With Cherry.”

“I have to see her.” I won’t turn around—I can’t look at her, not like this—but I have to see my daughter. “Now.Please.”

“No.”

I’m crushed. My limbs tremble. My heartbeat pounds. Slowly, I pivot, still on the floor, and watch her drop next to me. Resolve paints her face, looking like something I can only describe as a protective mother.

“I don’t have to do anything. You’re not something I can spring on her. ‘Hey, Cally, you have a dad and he wants to say hi.’”

My baby girl’s name is Cally.

My mother’s name was Calinda.

Emma’s mouth pinches closed as the same realization hits us at the same time. This is the biggest, hardest, cruelest what-the-fuck-have-I-done-with-my-life moment, and my heart finally gives out.

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