Panic flits over her features before her back straightens. I’ve triggered mama bear, and all I can do is admire her for it. I shake my head. “Don’t even think it. I would never dream of pulling you into something messy like that. First of all, neither of us can afford it, and I don’t want to do that to you, but I need you to let this happen. I’m not making excuses for what I did. I just want to do right by him. I know where you stand and how you feel about me. I just want to know him. Please, just let me know him.”
Strangled by emotion, I think back to the night I spent listening outside her living room window when he had colic, and they both cried. Watching as she decorated a Christmas tree alone that she could barely afford. And the next morning when she celebrated alone, no family to ever come around, just a friend that pops up every so often who never fails to put smiles on both their faces. I caught Clarissa mid-breakdown once when I’d pulled up. She sat in her SUV and just cried because life had stressed her to that point, and all I could do was helplessly watch. I might not know the particular ins and outs of all that’s gone on, but just by observation alone, I know it hasn’t been easy and that she’s done it all on her own. That guilt I’ll never overcome.
“I’ve watched you struggle all this time just to be able to take care of him. I know what you’re going through.”
“You have no idea what it’s been like.”
“But I do. My mother’s name is Pamela.”
She draws her brows. “Okay, so?”
“My father’s name is also Pamela.”
Her tears fall, but she lifts her chin, her expression stern as she tries not to show the weakness, the vulnerability I’ve seen glimpses of over the years. Years she thinks I’ve spent carefree, but my frustration in the knowledge that my son exists without a father has far outweighed any adolescent highlights. Even when I’d selfishly tried to turn a blind eye, tried to move on, since the day she showed up to my school, I’ve never been free.
It’s been crazy just how much I’ve wanted to know him since the announcement of his arrival. While everyone in school was scrambling around for a way to pay for a limo at prom, I was trying to figure out a way to chip in with Mom to keep the lights on and stalk my son’s Easter egg hunt.
“I can’t change what I did, but maybe I can change your opinion of me in the responsible sense. Please. I am his father, and I can be a father to him. Please just let me try.”
She chews her full bottom lip as I patiently wait for her to mull it over. I don’t think this woman has an impulsive bone in her body. Matter of fact, the words “I never do this,” poured from her the night we hooked up. She sighs heavily as she scrutinizes me.
“There is no trying, Troy. If it doesn’t work out, you don’t get to go on your merry way. That’s not how this works.”
I nod. “I know. It…just, fuck,” I sigh, palming the back of my neck, “came out the wrong way.”
“Yeah, but you have a penchant for twisting words when it suits you, don’t you now, Mr. Jenner?”
“There’s no way to tell you how much I regret lying to you in that way.”
I can’t even bring myself to regret the rest of it. Often, I wonder if at times, she remembers just how fucking spectacular that night was. Instead, I’m browbeaten by just how much she wishes it had never happened. I want to regret it, but no real part of me ever has. Not even when I felt at my lowest.
“Why are you doing this? You have football and college. You’re telling me you can handle this now?”
“You been keeping tabs on me?” My playful grin is met by a scowl. I clear my throat. “Look, all those things considered, I’ve been in your parking lot every spare minute for almost six fucking years, Clarissa. I think I’ve proven he’s a priority without even having met him, despite the ways you’ve thrown my offerings away. You want more proof? I’m offering it, right here, right now. You make the rules, I’ll follow. I’m just asking for a chance.”
Studying me carefully, I see the war waging in her mind, in her clear-blue eyes. I can still remember the jolt I felt when I got my first glimpse of her up close. Fiery dark hair, bee-stung lips, and perfect features. At twenty-three, she was a stunner when we met. At twenty-nine, she’s a fucking knock out. She seems to read my mind and her eyes narrow. “Don’t ever let what you’re thinking past those lips.”
“You’re even more beautiful than you were the night I met you.”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “If you’re that bad at following simple directions, how do I know this will work?”
“Sorry, couldn’t be helped. It’s just…good to see you from less than ten feet away.”
“You’re not helping your case at all.”
Sinking where I stand, the idea of being so close, coming this far just to get the door shut again is too much to handle. I reach in deep and speak straight from the heart.
“I can’t stop myself from being here anymore. This is tearing me apart and has been for years. I need to know him.
I have to know him. I can’t live with myself any longer, and I can’t live another minute without him knowing me. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove myself a worthy father. I’m not discrediting anything you’ve done. I just…” I close my eyes, willing myself to stay strong, my words coming out in a ragged plea. “Please, just give me a chance.” Opening my eyes, I take a step forward, my hands covering my chest, imploring her. “I’m not here to hurt you. And I would end myself before hurting him. Please.”
After the longest minute of my life, she sets the bag down on the porch and holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
Heart singing, I hand it over as she programs her number in and slaps it back in my hand. “You are the neighbor. You can start that way, and we’ll see how it goes from there. Don’t you dare come around unannounced. You have no say in his life until I decide otherwise. All decisions concerning him are up to me.”
“You’ve done an amazing job with him.”
“I had no choice.”