Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Kyler and his little girl walk out of the store, and she’s skipping happily while he clutches a shopping bag and a tiny little pink backpack with a mermaid on the front. If I wasn’t so shocked, my hormones would be going crazy at the sight of this tall, surly, constantly-scowling man clearly doting on his daughter. A brooding Kyler is one thing, but a baby-daddy Kyler, happily smiling without a care in the world? It’s truly a sight to behold.
“Yeah,” I say, realizing I’ve not yet responded to Millie’s latest comment. “I guess it does explain the absences. I’m surprised he’s never said anything though.”
Millie shrugs. “Maybe he just doesn’t want the fact he’s a dad to take the focus off being drafted to the NHL. That’s his endgame, right? Makes sense he wants to succeed if he’s got a young family to look after.”
“I guess you’re right,” I reply distractedly. I look over my shoulder once again, but Kyler and his little girl are no longer in sight.
We finish our meal and Millie gathers up or trays and tidies them away. As she does, I quickly take out my phone and open the last text exchange I had with him all those weeks ago and type out a message to him.
You shouldn’t have to keep your daughter a secret, Kyler. She’s adorable by the way.
Before I overthink it and change my mind, I press send. It’s unlikely I’ll get a response but it’s my way of letting him know that being a young father is nothing to be ashamed of. The three bubbles appear almost immediately, letting me know not only has he read my message but he’s also typing a reply. I hold my breath, somewhat nervous about what he’ll say.
Ky
Who she is, is not anyone’s business.
twelve
Kyler
After reading Thea’s text, I scoop Lacey up into my arms and place her on my hip. For some reason, there’s an urgency in my steps, almost as if Thea is a perceived threat, when deep down, I know she isn’t. For years, I’ve been overprotective of Lacey—mostly because of my sister, and her unwillingness to tell us who Lacey’s father is. “He’s a bad guy,” is all Ally ever says, and she fears his family will take her away. It’s my job to keep Lacey safe. I could never forgive myself if something ever happened to her.
“Uncle Kyler, what’s wrong?” Lacey’s tiny hand rests on my cheek. Warmth spreads through me, dulling my icy demeanor.
“Nothing, Lacey Bear.”
“You look mad.”
I am mad. But why? Is it because Thea is at the mall? It’s a public place and I’m bound to run into someone I know. Is it because Thea saw me with my niece? No, it’s because she assumed Lacey was my daughter and didn’t ask me. Thea seems to have a habit of making a lot of assumptions about me. In a way, it’s my fault. I know I’m closed off, a shut book. I know I don’t give a lot of people anything to go on. Probably because I don’t want their sympathy. I don’t feel like divulging my family drama and how my dad bailed, how my mom and sister are bum magnets, and how they both guilt-trip me into everything. And the last thing I want is for any of my friends to try and help. My issues are my burden and no one else’s, and people like Thea would see me as a charity case and jump at the opportunity to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m severely cracked, and no amount of glue is going to keep me from shattering.
Lacey and I walk into a children’s clothing store. I finally set her down and allow her to roam through the racks of clothes. She picks out a handful of shirts, skirts, jeans, and a couple of new pairs of shoes. She excitedly skips to the counter, where I set everything down and she watches the clerk ring her new clothes in. Every folded item has a story in Lacey’s world. She tells the clerk why the purple shirt is her favorite, and how tomorrow she’s wearing the pink skirt. Lacey loves how the shoes she chose light up and asked the clerk if she had a pair. There’s a point during this process when I want to apologize to the clerk, but she seems so practiced and well versed in dealing with kids of this age I let it go and let my niece live in the glory of buying new things. When the total shows on the register, I hand over the cash and wait for my change.
With three new bags in my hand, Lacey and I exit the store. “I’m hungry.”
“Do you want to go get pizza?”
“No, McDonald’s,” she tells me.
Of course, there’s one in the food court, but I don’t really want to go there. Again, Thea is on my mind, and now I find myself looking over my shoulder. I don’t understand why the fact she saw me with Lacey is bothering me, but it is. This is a part of my life I want to keep to myself, yet I’m out in the open where anyone can see me. My own insecurities and reasonings are giving me whiplash.