Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
His words filled up that hollowed-out space in my soul like rain soaking parched earth. I never realized how much I needed to hear them. That, over the years, I’d convinced myself to stop waiting to be seen, claimed, loved. It hit me then, in the empty, towering library – a child’s heart is only as big as the love their parents filled it with.
I cleared my throat, swallowing the sudden lump there. “How are you sure you’re my dad if she had other affairs? We don’t even look alike.”
“I knew Philomena slept around, but when she told me you were mine, I believed her.” His gaze held mine, delivering an unspoken promise. “I wanted you. From the start. Never once did I not want to be your father. Understood?”
“But—”
“I need you to tell me that you understand, Briar.”
I couldn’t fathom the fact that a total stranger – only nineteen at the time – would love me so much that he uprooted his life and chased me across the globe. Me. Why? It was like trying to convince me that the sun loved the shadows.
Still, I gave him the words he wanted, even as they felt too big for my mouth. “I believe you.”
He obviously didn’t believe me. His eyes promised that we’d revisit the subject later, but he tossed me a lifeline and moved on. “I realized after the lawsuit that Phil only strung me along as a backup plan, in case things fell through with Jason.”
“She used you.”
“She did.” He nodded with calm acceptance. Not a lick of resentment clouded his warmth. “First, as a means to provide a child for Jason’s family image. Then, as a backup plan in case his crimes caught up to them.”
“You’re not angry?”
“At first, yes. Philomena is a compulsive liar. After her, it took years for me to trust people again. But I will always be grateful to her for the one truth she told me.”
“What was it?”
“That I have a daughter.”
I swallowed, my heart like sludge in my throat. “Tell me about the lawsuit, please.”
“It happened after I found Phil for the eighth time.” He said it casually, as if people regularly dropped their lives to search for their long-lost daughters. “She and Jason stayed in a flat in Buenos Aires. I cased the place, waiting for you to enter.”
“I was in boarding school.”
“That explains why you never came.” He grinned, clearly amused by his own persistence. “Eventually, I got sick of waiting and approached them.”
“What did they tell you?”
“That you didn’t want to see me.”
“That’s a lie.” A flash of white-hot rage shot through me, like tossing gas onto a bonfire. “They never even told me you exist until I confronted them about it.”
“I know. I knew it then, too. So, when they threatened to call the cops, I ended up filing a lawsuit in Argentina for full custody.”
“How did I not know about this?”
“Well, for starters, I lost.” He scratched his neck, wincing like a gambler who lost his last dollar. “My lawyer filed some paperwork incorrectly, and by the time the court informed us, you were two weeks from turning eighteen. The judge advised that I simply wait until your birthday, since another court case would take far longer than that.”
“I can’t believe I never knew.”
“Something good did come out of the trial.” Cooper sat up straighter, coming to life again. “Phil claimed you weren’t my daughter in court, so I demanded a DNA test.”
My brows knitted together. I squinted at the space beside him as if an answer might be floating in the air. “But I don’t remember taking a DNA test.”
“It would’ve been maybe four months before you turned eighteen.”
“I didn’t – Oh.” I fell back against the leather rest, shocked by my mother’s audacity. “I took a blood test. Philomena sent me to a clinic to get my bloodwork done. She said it was for our new health insurance quote. That must be it.”
“It came back a 99.99% match.”
“And the restraining order? Philomena said she has one against you.”
“No restraining order.” He shrugged, taking yet another one of Philomena’s lies in stride. “I left Argentina on my own a few weeks after the trial ended and my lawyer discovered your address in Geneva. By the time I got there, you’d already left.”
“I moved to another city to find work. I needed to save up for college.”
“After that, I didn’t have a starting point on where to find you. So, it was back to square one.” He shot me a wink. “On the bright side, I managed to snag a date with the lawyer who defended me pro bono.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Melinda?”
I’d known the woman – my stepmom? – for all of five minutes, and I already adored her. The entire journey to the library, she’d cracked jokes, fielded a zillion nosy questions from the twins with practiced ease, and never broke a sweat. The woman was a professional chaos wrangler in mom mode.