Page 63 of His Long-Lost Baby

“I…” My words trail away. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. “I did it for Quinn,” I lamely finish.

James’s eyes narrow, and I can feel his anger radiating towards me. “You didn’t think to tell me the truth from the beginning? You just assumed that I wouldn’t want anything to do with my own daughter?”

My own anger rises. “I didn’t assume anything,” I snap. “You weren’t on the birth certificate, and before she died, Sara told everyone that the father — you — wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.”

His face falls. It’s not a low blow, though. It’s the truth.

“So,” I hiss, “speaking of protecting daughters, that’s exactly what I was doing.”

His gaze falls to the ground. I could add more — about how he’s never even met Quinn so it’s ridiculous for him to make it sound like he has more of a right to her than I do, about how Sara must have had a good reason to keep Quinn a secret from him — but I don’t need to add these things.

He already knows them. We can both feel these heavy truths sitting between us.

I sigh and unfold my arms. This isn’t how I imagined this going down. Twenty minutes ago we were locked in an embrace, the future looking bright and promising.

And now it’s all crumbling to pieces.

“James…”

“Don’t.” He holds up a hand, still not looking at me. “I need to get out of here.”

He lifts his face and looks around, looking like a caged animal. “Don’t follow me.”

The words are a punch to the gut. They nearly knock me over.

I watch as he turns and storms away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away. This isn’t the time to break down.

I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts. James has a right to be angry, but I had to do what I thought was best for Quinn.

How do I make him see that? How do I make him understand that I wasn’t trying to deceive him, but to protect my daughter?

Or is there even any point in trying?

Maybe this is all for the best. It was stupid to think James and I would work out anyway.

But even as I think it, my chest fills with a ragged, awful pain. Last night was probably the best night of my life.

A night that I never wanted to end, but already it feels like a distant memory. The weight of my actions and the possibility of never seeing James again is almost too much to bear.

I watch him disappear down the hallway and feel like a part of me is going with him. I don’t know what to do or say to make things right between us. I don’t even know if things can be made right.

But I have to try. I can’t let him walk out of my life without a fight.

I quickly run after him, calling his name. He doesn’t turn around, but I can see his shoulders tense up.

“James, please,” I plead, catching up to him. “We need to talk about this. We can figure something out.”

He stops abruptly and spins around, his eyes blazing with anger. “Figure something out? What is there to figure out, huh? You came into my life and kept Quinn from me. How am I supposed to trust you after that?”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” I say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “I did it to protect her.”

Hurt fills his eyes. “From me.”

“I…” I trail off. Yes. From him.

I gulp. “You must know what people say about you.”

His eyes flash. “And you believe them? You think I would put Quinn in danger?”