Chapter 26 026
RYAN
I stood on Emily’s porch with my hands shoved deep into my jacket pockets, my heart hammering so hard it felt like it might punch its way out of my chest. The night air was cool, but I was sweating anyway, nerves crawling under my skin like I was sixteen again and about to ask her to prom. Back then, I had been terrified she would say no. Tonight, I was terrified she would say yes to something she didn’t mean, or no to something Zara needed.
Zara was asleep inside. Safe. Warm. Unaware of the tightrope we were both walking for her sake.
The door opened softly behind me, and Emily stepped out onto the porch, closing it carefully like she didn’t want to risk waking Zara. She wrapped her arms around herself, fingers gripping the fabric of her hoodie. She looked cold, but I knew better. That was her armor. The way she held herself when she was bracing for impact.
She looked tired. Worn down. Beautiful in that way that still stole my breath even after everything we had been through.
The porch light cast a soft glow over her face, highlighting the shadows under her eyes. Guilt twisted in my chest.
“If we’re going to co-parent,” I started, keeping my voice low, steady, “I want us to do it right. For Zara’s sake.”
Emily let out a small scoff. It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp enough to sting. “Well. If we want to be honest, then we need to start from the fact that you took my daughter to your parents without my permission.”
I nodded slowly. I had expected that. “I’m sorry about that. I really am. That’s exactly why I wanted to talk. About how to do this right.”
She crossed her arms tighter, shoulders lifting defensively. “Go ahead.”
I took a breath, choosing my words carefully. “We need a schedule. Something consistent. If I have Zara one weekend, you have her the next. We alternate. Holidays too. Birthdays. Whatever makes sense so she doesn’t feel pulled apart.”
Emily laughed. It was short and incredulous, and it hit me harder than if she had yelled. “Wow. Just wow, Ryan. You come into my life all of a sudden and I have to shift mountains for you?”
I frowned, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”
She shook her head, scoffing again. “Are you punishing me, Ryan?”
The question knocked the air out of my lungs. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Her composure cracked then. I saw it happen in real time. Her voice trembled on the next words, and her eyes shone dangerously bright. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around why you’re trying to steal my daughter away from me. You just came back into my life and all of a sudden my daughter wants to be with you all the time. You’re taking her to see your parents. You’re pulling her from me. It’s not fair at all.”
It felt like the porch tilted under my feet.
“Emily,” I said quietly, stunned. “I’m surprised. I wasn’t expecting all that.”
“Of course you’re surprised,” she shot back. “You don’t see it. You don’t see how it feels.”
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to stay calm. “Do you not want me to be with my child at all?”
“I’m not stopping you.”
“Good,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. “Then help me create a proper schedule. Tell me what weeks you want her and when she can be with me.”
She looked at me like I had slapped her.
“Wow,” she whispered. “Even after all I’ve said.”
I stepped closer without thinking, closing the distance between us. “To be honest,” I said quietly, “you’re being selfish. You’ve had our daughter for three years. Three years, Emily. It’s only fair that I want to spend every waking minute with her now.”
“And whose fault is that?” she shot back immediately. “You left me.”
The words landed hard, but I didn’t back down. I shook my head slowly. “And whose fault is that?”
She opened her mouth to respond, then stopped. Her lips pressed together. Her gaze dropped to the porch floor. Tears filled her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them.
The silence that followed was thick and heavy, filled with everything we weren’t saying. Regret. Anger. Love that had nowhere to go.
I let it sit there between us for a moment, because sometimes silence said more than words ever could.
Then I exhaled and said, “Well… I need to leave now.”
I turned and walked toward my car, each step heavier than the last. My chest felt tight, like I had done something wrong even though I didn’t know how else to fight for my daughter.
I didn’t look back right away.
But when I reached the driver’s door, I couldn’t stop myself.
Emily was still standing there under the porch light, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. She looked smaller than she ever had before. Smaller than the woman who had raised our daughter alone. Smaller than the woman who had survived losing me and still kept going.
She was watching me.
To be honest, I needed her to understand that I wasn’t trying to take Zara away. I wasn’t trying to punish her. I just wanted to be there. I wanted to be present. I wanted to make up for lost time in whatever way I could.
I got into the car and shut the door. The engine turned over, the sound loud in the quiet street. I rested my hands on the steering wheel and just sat there, breathing, my reflection staring back at me from the windshield.
I didn’t drive away immediately.
I watched her in the rearview mirror.
She didn’t move.
She just stood there, alone on the porch, watching me like she was afraid that once I left, everything would change again.
My chest ached.
I wanted to get out of the car. Wanted to go back to her. Wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her that I wasn’t her enemy. That I wasn’t trying to steal Zara away. That I just wanted us to figure this out together. All three of us.
Even if together looked different now.
But I didn’t.