Pound.
Pulse.
Thump.
All were my heartbeats, but they all felt different. From different parts of my body. I felt them all.
I slapped a hand over that paper.
Valerie was dead.
That was sad. Regretful.
But there’d been a nagging. I didn’t know. How could I have?
But the nagging.
It kept at me. Over and over again.
I let it go.
I didn’t love Valerie.
There’d been a reason I hadn’t fought for her.
But… She had a daughter. She’s yours.
The world had been small to me before. On that beat, on those words, the world got real fucking big.
Colors changed. Deepened. Now I could see the colors in the colors when I hadn’t been able to before.
Everything was different now, and when I took another breath, I leaned forward, and snarled, “What’s her name?”
“Excuse me?” Her face was a blank mask.
Fuck that blank mask.
I leaned forward and gritted out, “What’s her goddamn name?”
She blinked. “Nova.”
“How old is she?”
A second blink. Her mask didn’t slip. “She’s eighteen months.”
I did the math, and fuck. Fuuuck. Valerie was pregnant the last time I saw her.
She was pregnant and… was that why it was my last time to see her?
No. I—fuck. I didn’t know what to think here.
“She got married.”
A twitch now from her.
Her mask slipped. I saw the instant loathing there, and it was strong. A brief blip and her mask was back. “He’s not her father. He’s not in the picture at all.”
“How do you know?”
She sat up straighter, though I didn’t think she could get straighter. Her eyes flashed from indignation as though I’d insulted her. “Because he has no rights to Nova. There’s an existing restraining order against him for Nova. And Valerie wouldn’t lie about that.”
I pointed at the birth certificate. “Yet she did for eighteen fucking months.”
Also, restraining order? Who was this guy, and why would Valerie’s kid need one against him?
She winced, saying softly, “Thirteen months.”
“What?”
Her eyes were on the birth certificate. “Thirteen months. She’s been dead for six months.”
Jesus.
I felt punched all over again.
Dead.
I’d forgotten in the brief time she told me about ‘my daughter.’
“Nova Nathaniel Robertson. She named her after you.”
It was another blow.
Nova.
Nathaniel.
Robertson.
Not my last name.
But she had named her after me?
Right. I needed to get some answers before I did anything else. I locked everything down.
“Where is she?”
“She’s with my father right now. Her grandfather.” She looked down at her lap.
I was breathing through my nose, barely keeping it together.
“Where?” I ground my teeth together.
Her head jerked upright. “She’s with my father. That’s all I’m going to tell you—”
“Fuck you.”
I didn’t let her finish talking. She, whoever the fuck this was, didn’t deserve that. I asked her, “She’s your daughter?”
Her chin raised. “As I said before, Valerie died and left me half guardianship.”
“Valerie doesn’t get that option. If I’m Nova’s living father, then I decide. Why six months?”
She jerked. “What?”
“She’s been dead for six months. Why the wait to contact me?”
She looked away, her throat moving up and down. “Right. Next time my sister dies, I’ll get right on that, notifying the guy who could take Nova away from us. Forget the funeral, forget the meetings with her lawyer, forget mourning, forget deciding to investigate you, forget all of that. Next time, I’ll just get right on that.”
She knew sarcasm, that was for damn sure.
I didn’t reply. I got it. Six months, though. Fuck.
I was going through everything I needed to do in my head.
Lawyers.
A paternity test.
Private investigators.
She squared her shoulders, and her face grew hard. “Nova is mine now. Sign those papers, and you can go on and have a child with someone else.”
Locking my gaze with hers, I saw the steel determination radiating from her.
I didn’t give a fuck.
Leaning forward, I spoke slowly but clearly. “This is how it’s going to be. You will bring her to me. I will have my own physician do a paternity test, and depending on those results, we’ll discuss what exact rights you think you may have. Got me?”
I shoved up to my feet, already knowing I would need everyone to fight this.
She stood, mimicking my moves, rattling the table. Her hands were in fists, pressing into the table. “You can’t do this.”
“The fuck I can’t.”
She was heavily breathing, her chest moving up and down rapidly. “You can’t. Valerie told me you wouldn’t care—”
“Valerie was dead wrong.”
She flinched at my words.
I would care later. Right now, after what blow she just dealt, I couldn't care less about her feelings.
I held out my hand. “I want your information, and I want your phone.”
Her eyes grew wary, but she passed me her phone.
I took it, programming my number into it, and I took everything from her contact info that I could before she’d start balking.
“Hey.”
I was still working on her phone.
“What are you doing?”
I ignored her, going faster.
I wanted everything I could get from it.
“Hey!” She rounded the table, reaching for her phone.