“I didn’t think you would come. I mean, I saw that night when you were out for dinner that you love Annabelle, but you were so self-centered before her I didn’t really believe what I was seeing.”
He isn’t wrong. Before Annabelle, I didn’t care for anyone or anything but my own well-being. She changed a lot for me, and I see the world completely differently now, and I want to be a better person so Annabelle grows up knowing she can be her best self, no matter what.
“I’m here,” I say, my hands still on my leg to stop it from bouncing.
He sits next to me. “You didn’t bring her.” He doesn’t ask in a question, more of a statement.
“No.”
“I want to know her, Kat.”
There he goes again.
I look up at the kids playing soccer on the oval in front of us and sink back, my legs stopping any sort of bouncing now, my nerves gone.
“Why? Why do you really want to know her, Mitchell? I told you about her when I was pregnant. You sent me money to get rid of her.” I shake my head at the thought. I love Annabelle so much, and imagining my life without her in it literally kills me.
Mitchell rubs his hands through his blond hair. “Because I was fucked-up. You saw who I was. Drugs, women. I had no care. I just wanted what I wanted. No consequences.”
“Annabelle isn’t someone you can walk away from. You can’t just know her when it suits you.”
“I’ve purchased a house here. My job is here. I did all that before I planned to come see you, but then I saw you both at that restaurant and couldn’t stay away.” Mitchell turns, his eyes so blue, just like mine, stare at me. “What do you need me to do to be able to prove to you that I will try? I will take things at your pace. I was harsh yesterday. Too harsh. But I know that’s not the way I should be. You’ve raised her. You are raising her. I just want to help. Somehow be a part of that.”
I don’t ever want to hinder Annabelle from getting to know her father. I want her to know I did everything possible for her to try and know him. And I hope he proves me right. I don’t know Mitchell all that well, but what I do know of him is that he isn’t reliable.
Turning to him, I see hope in his eyes.
Could he be telling the truth?
“How about you start paying for some of her things, for a start. Raising her isn’t cheap,” I huff out.
Shit! My family is going to blow a gasket.
Mitchell reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills, handing them to me. I don’t take it.
“No, Mitchell, I don’t want your money. Buy her nappies, food, clothes, toys,” I say, looking down at the cash.
He immediately withdraws it, and pulls back. “I’m rich, you know. I can give you as much as you need.”
“I don’t want your money, Mitchell,” I reiterate.
“You wouldn’t have to work,” he tells me with a smile.
I hold up my hands. “Whoa there, buddy, I don’t want you. Not now. Not ever. You may be her father, but to me you’re just that. Nothing more.”
“Fair enough.” He nods.
“My family hates you. This is going to have to be a slow process. I won’t just let you have her for sleepovers or even take her anywhere I can’t see her. Annabelle doesn’t know you. You are a stranger to her,” I tell him, standing. I look down at my watch.
“Okay, so maybe I should start with them?” he asks hopefully.
“Do you really want to know Annabelle? Or is this some sort of scam?”
“No. I almost died six months ago, and well… that kind of thing has an impact on you.” He looks down at the ground.
“How did you almost die?”
“Alcohol poisoning,” he says. Although the way his face screws up and his brows draw together almost immediately, it tells me he regrets talking about it. “Don’t think less of me. I haven’t drunk for a while.”
“Last night at the club?”
“Club soda,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I’ll be in contact. And Mitchell?” He looks at me. “Slow.”
Mitchel nods, and I walk away.
Getting into my car, I drive and attempt to hold back the tears.
Realizing that soon, I may not have Annabelle to myself anymore.Rochelle is the first out the door, Marcus close behind her. As soon as I get there, my mother stands in the doorway, Annabelle’s on her hip, and my father stands next to her.
“How did it go?” Rochelle asks in a hushed voice as I make my way up to where they’re all standing. Taking Annabelle from my mother, I kiss the top of her head as we go inside. Sitting her on the floor in front of me with her toys, she plays contentedly.