Page 63 of Chaos

I cautiously follow, my footsteps barely making a sound, and lean against the sturdy frame. I watch as Sofia gently lowers the sleeping baby into the soft padded crib.

“Momma.”

My heart stops.

Sofia has a kid? Who’s is it? Brody’s?

As I back away, my palms become clammy with sweat. The small living room feels suffocating as tension mounts, my restless pacing amplified by the echoing click of the door as Sofia steps in.

She looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Despite my own confusion, an overwhelming desire to hold her close overtakes me, and I rush towards her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight embrace.

She pulls away, her nails digging into her skin as she anxiously picks at the rough edges.

“I need to tell you something, Jax,” she trails off, looking at the floor. I step forward, tipping her chin up with my finger.

“I gathered that, gorgeous. You have a kid?”

She nods.

“Are you worried that will change things between us? Because it won’t.”

She sucks in a shaky breath and I ask the one question I’m dying to know. Because it could change everything, especially with how Brody is acting.

“Is she Brody’s?”

As her face turns pale, she vigorously shakes her head.

“Well, that’s something,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. But she’s still the same color as the fucking wall behind her.

“Sofia? Talk to me. I’m always around kids. It doesn’t bother me. Stop worrying.”

She nervously chews her lip. She links her fingers through mine and leads me back towards the little girl’s door.

Opening it up just a crack, I can see the sleeping baby in her cot. The name Maeve in pink letters on the wall above.

“She’s yours, Jax.”

With a rush of adrenaline, my heart jumps into my throat, leaving me breathless. Am I hearing things?

“Repeat what you just said.” I can barely get my words out.

“Jax, that little girl in there, she’s yours. You are her dad.”

I drop my hand from hers, running my fingers through my hair. I stumble backwards. Dad. I’m her dad.

Those dark curls are now vividly in my mind.

My brain works overtime to do the math, two years ago, nine-ish months after that. She would be just over one.

I’ve missed over an entire fucking year of my daughter’s life.

“Jax, are you okay?” Her voice is hoarse, like she’s about to cry.

I snap my head up. She’s shaking, her eyes welling with tears.

Fuck.

“I-I-Yes. Just give me a second.”