47

"A mistake? What kind of mistake?"

Alistair threw up his hands. "You tell me, Lorenzo. What the fuck happened at the press conference? It's all over the news."

"That's a whole other mind fuck of a story," I sighed. What in the world did Ophelia think she made a mistake about? I tried to replay our conversation, but everything felt so harried and muddled that I couldn't differentiate between my emotions and what I'd said. I know I'd been upset that she'd chosen to leave, but I'd never told her she was making a mistake. "So she just left?"

"No, she told me to text you."

"What? Why? She just came here to tell you that she made a mistake and then she and Cecilia left?"

Alistair's eyes closed. "Come inside, Lorenzo."

"What? What exactly did she say?"

Alistair sighed. "She said that she needed to find herself. She said that she was never good enough for me. That she wasn't good enough for you. And that she wasn't good enough for Cecilia."

My heart sank. "What?" I gasped. "How could she feel like that?" Oh my God. How could I make her feel like she was that worthless when what I felt about her was the exact opposite? I was the one who had failed her.

"It's not a new feeling," Alistair whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Ophelia's never felt like she was good enough for anyone. And part of that is probably my fault, if I'm being honest."

"How so?"

Alistair looked me in the eyes. "Because she started feeling like that in college after you left. I mean, after I lied to her and told her that you didn't want anything to do with her and Cecilia. That's when she started feeling like that. And that's on me. I'm the one who failed her."

I shook my head. "We both made mistakes, Alistair. I wasn't open with her. I didn't fight for her. Not like I should have."

"Will you come inside?" Alistair asked.

"I feel like I should go look for them."

Alistair gripped my shoulder. "Trust me. You'll want to come inside."

The determination in his eyes made me nod. "Okay."

He opened the door, and I followed him through the foyer and into the living room.

"Daddy!"

Cecilia jumped up from the floor, knocking over the board game she and Alistair's husband, Mickey, had been playing. I wrapped my arms around Cecilia as she hugged me, trying to process what this meant. Ophelia had left Cecilia with Alistair. This was bad.

Mickey and Alistair looked up at me, concern etched on their face.

"Where's mommy?" Cecilia asked me.

I grabbed my phone and pulled the number of my private investigator. "Don't worry, honey. I'm going to find out soon."

OPHELIA

Ididn't know where I was going when I took the taxi to the bus station, I just needed to get away. Get away from what? How could I even answer that when the escape I needed was from myself? Suddenly, a rush of nausea gripped me, and I leaned over and hurled at the spot. The stress was affecting me worse than I thought. I hated this.

After forwarding the sixth call from Lorenzo to voicemail, I'd finally shut off my phone. And as I tucked it into my backpack, I decided then and there that I wouldn't turn it back on until I knew where I was going.

Lorenzo's words haunted me in a way I couldn't understand, a trigger beneath my skin, an itch I couldn't reach. I had been about to make a choice that would have kept me entrenched in the same cyclical patten I'd been stuck in my entire life. It was as if the entire facade of my life had been stripped away.

If I didn't trust the choices I wanted to make for myself, how was I supposed to know what choices I wanted to make for Cecilia? Never in my life had I left Cecilia behind for anything. But as I boarded the first bus that arrived, with no destination in mind, the sadness building inside my chest stemmed more from guilt than loss.

I wasn't capable of being there for Cecilia. Not right now. Not like this. As a mother, I was supposed to be selfless, I was supposed to think about what was best for her first, not for me.

And for once in my life, I had to admit that I wasn't doing that. I was thinking only for myself. Because the better option, the selfless option, wouldn't be taking Cecilia away from her father. It would be allowing him to become integrated in her life.

I had been about to do the same thing with Lorenzo that I had done with Alistair.

Alistair had done nothing but been there for me and Cecilia when I had literally no one else. And what had I done? The instant Alistair had criticized me for my lifestyle—my job as a hacker, a judgement that had been more than valid considering the circumstances—I cut him out of my life.

And in doing so, I'd also cut him out of Cecilia's life.

I'd cut out his help, his friendship to Cecilia, his love. He'd not only been her babysitter, but also her uncle and her best friend. All because my pride had been too heavy of a weight to bear.

Up until today, I would have defended that decision to the death, but because of Lorenzo's words, my blinders had finally been removed. I'd made a choice with Alistair, acted in selfish ways that had negatively affected my daughter. And I'd been about to do the same with Lorenzo, if he hadn't cut me off.

After the chaos at the press conference, I knew I needed to run, to start over, to figure out how to set my head on straight, but it didn't mean Cecilia had to come with me. Leaving Cecilia with my brother and her father was the best thing I could have done for my daughter.

It was with that thought that I boarded the bus, took a row in the back, stuffed my backpack at my feet, and pulled my sweatshirt over my head.

My eyes closed, and I was asleep before the engine had even started.