“We see one movie and suddenly you think I’m putting out?” she says. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“I think you’re the kind of girl that would usually put out before the movie.”
She gasps, playfully shoving me away, before grabbing my shirt and pulling me right back to her, whispering, “Maybe I’ll even let you bend me over a table.”
My footsteps stall, and I laugh at that as she walks away, pulling out her keys as she makes her way to the apartment door. I stand back, staring at her and Madison, smiling. It feels like my chest wants to fucking burst with all these feelings building up inside of me.
I can’t believe we’re here, that I’m with her… with them. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love her. Can’t believe I’m finally a father to my daughter.
Hell, I can’t believe I made it all night without being bothered.
I start to say something—to say just that—when a voice cuts through the silence… feminine, and familiar, and oh fuck. “Johnny?”
I turn, tensing, and see her a few feet to my right in the parking lot of the apartment building.
Serena.
“Johnny!” She runs, flinging herself at me, and I stagger a few steps as she wraps her arms around me, squeezing. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
Madison gasps. “Mommy, it’s Maryanne!”
“I know,” Kennedy says, her voice a whisper. “I see.”
Serena turns, loosening her grip, like she’s just now realizing I’m not alone out here. She plasters a smile on her face, zeroing right in on Madison. “Oh, who might you be, cutie?”
Madison stares at her. She looks conflicted, fidgeting, tinkering with her dandelions as she says, “I’m Maddie.”
“Well, hello, Maddie,” Serena says. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”
Madison fidgets even more.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Kennedy says, grasping Madison by the shoulder to lead her into the apartment. “Let’s go inside so they can talk.”
Madison resists. She looks confused, like she doesn’t want to go, but she eventually gives in. Kennedy casts a look my way, and it only lasts a second, but it’s long enough for me to see the concern in her eyes, mingling with something else. Hurt.
The moment they’re gone, Serena’s expression changes, her smile dimming. She turns back to me, groaning, shoving against my chest. “Johnny, what the hell? I’ve been looking for you all night!”
“Why?”
She lets out an incredulous laugh. Her eyes, Jesus Christ, they’re like saucers—completely black. “Why? I haven’t seen you in over a month!”
“I know, but…” I shake my head, taking a step away from her as I run a hand down my face, trying to put a bit of space between us. “I thought you were in rehab.”
“I was,” she says. “But I couldn’t stay there. It was hell, Johnny, and those people didn’t get me. Not like you always did. And I missed you. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to—”
“Don’t do that,” I say, cutting her off. “Don’t try to make you leaving rehab about me.”
“You were hit by a car! I was worried!”
“You’re worried now? But not worried enough to check on me the night of the accident?”
“You know I hate hospitals,” she says.
“So do I,” I say. “And I know rehab feels like a glorified hospital, but sometimes a person needs help.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m better.”
“You’re high right now, Serena.”
She rolls her eyes. “So?”
“So how the hell are you better if you’re still using?”
“I can handle it,” she says. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this town is fucking depressing. I needed something. Honestly, I don’t know how you’re even surviving. I know Cliff sent you off somewhere to recover, but here?”
I’m having a hard time looking at her. My gaze fixes on the closed apartment door, at the splotches of yellow on the doorstep. Madison’s abandoned dandelions. “I have family here.”
She scoffs. “You hate your family.”
“I hate my father. That doesn’t mean I hate my family.”
“So, whatever, family.” She uses air quotes when she says that word, waving toward the apartment. “Is that who that was?”
“That was my daughter.”
“Your daughter.”
I can feel her gaze, piercing, judging. So damn angry. I don’t even have to look at her to know she’s fuming about that.
“I told you I was a father.”
“You told me you knocked up that girl from back home, that she kept the kid.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re a father,” she says. “So, what, while I was off suffering in some hellhole, you’ve been here, playing house?”
“I’m not playing anything. I got clean so I could be a part of her life.”
Serena lets out a bitter laugh. “No, Johnny, you did it because they made you.”
“They made me go to rehab, but that’s not why I’m still clean.”
She shakes her head, running her hands through her hair—still dyed dark for the movie. “I just… I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this isn’t the you I know.”