25. Bella

25

BELLA

M y father steps forward and places a firm hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Young lady," he says gruffly, "let's step outside for a bit, let these two talk." Ginny is nothing if not perceptive, even this young.

She nods immediately and offers River a sweet smile before going outside with Dad. River's gaze follows Ginny, a flicker of longing in his eyes before they return to me, his expression hardening.

Dad shuts the door behind him, which means I'm alone in the room now with River and the truth. Finally, there’s nothing between us, no secrets, but maybe also no love from how he's looking at me. My breath hitches in my throat, my fingers tightening around the hem of my shirt.

"You kept her from me?" It's not a question, although he phrases it as one. He's accusing me. And I don't do well with accusations. River's voice is low and menacing, each word laced with barely restrained fury.

"Did I have a choice?" I counter, my voice reedy. "You told me to find someone else." My shoulders stiffen as the weight of their past decisions crashes down on me.

"But I didn't know," he replies, a strangled cry erupting from his chest. "What is wrong with you, Bella? How could you keep something like this from me?"

River takes a step toward me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and betrayal.

I can't deal with this conversation right now. It's the right thing to face him and give him the truth, but I can't. It's too hard. I begin walking toward the door.

My vision blurs with unshed tears as I struggle to put one foot in front of the other.

"Don't you dare," he roars gutturally from behind me. "Don't walk out on me, on this. Don't be a coward."

River's hand slams against the wall beside the door, blocking my exit.

That's it. I stomp on the ground, fury taking root deep in my system. The anger I've been trying so hard to keep at bay lashes out, and I ball my fists to keep myself from hitting him.

"Don't call me a coward, you asshole," I shout back at him. "You've faced a lot, River, but you're also the guy who told me to basically fuck off. And I did that, but somehow, you think it's okay to turn it against me? Who the fuck do you think you are?" My voice is raw with emotion, my body trembling with rage and hurt.

"You think this is easy for me?" His voice cracks, the facade of anger crumbling to reveal the raw pain beneath. "To find out I have a daughter I never knew existed, and like this?" His eyes are livid. "A daughter," he whispers, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the revelation. He runs a hand through his hair, the anger giving way to a profound sense of loss and longing. "A daughter I would have moved heaven and earth for if I had known."

His words pierce through my anger like shards of ice. A daughter he would have moved heaven and earth for . Guilt gnaws at my insides as I look around the room.

"You had no right," he mumbles softly, his head bowed.

"You don't get to play the victim here, River," I say, although my heart is screaming for a reconciliation. "You made your choice. You told me to move on, and I did. I had to build a life for Ginny, for us. I couldn't sit around waiting for you, hoping you'd come back."

He looks up at me with a stab of regret, but it's quickly replaced with a flicker of defiance. "So, you just replaced me? You thought Ginny didn't need her dad?"

"I didn't replace you," I retort, my voice rising. "You weren't there! Ginny didn't get to see her dad because you didn't exist! You were gone, fighting a war, and I was here, alone and pregnant."

His fists clench at his sides, his jaw ticking. "I was fighting for our future, Bella. For a world where our child could grow up safe."

"Our child? You didn't even know about her!" I scream, the words ripping from my throat. The pain of those early months, the fear and loneliness, flood back with a vengeance.

He flinches as if I've struck him. "I know," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "And I'll never forgive myself for that. But that doesn't change the fact that I loved you, that I still love you."

The words attack me like dark wisps of smoke, curling around my throat, blinding my eyes, tormenting every sense I have. I know he loves me. It is what I feel for him too, so much of it. But there's no changing that I raised Ginny alone. There was no one to point out the rights or wrongs, to share the sleepless nights, to tell me everything would be okay.

Maybe I didn't tell him before because he doesn't get to just waltz into her life now that things are more manageable, now that she's actually asking for a dad. It's too easy. And this makes me insanely selfish, but this thought is in my head, piercing deep like venom.

"Love isn't enough, River," I say wearily. "Love doesn't erase the pain, the betrayal. You broke my heart, and I had to pick up the pieces and move on. Love didn't help me survive then, and it sure as hell won't do it in the future."

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with a desperation that tugs at my own battered heart. "Don't say that, Bella. Please. I know I messed up, but I'm begging you to give me another chance. Let me be a father to Ginny. Let me prove to you that I'm not the same man I was."

The room feels smaller, the walls closing in on me. I glance at the crib and picture Ginny's tiny hand clutching a stuffed bunny. A wave of fierce protectiveness washes over me.

"You don't get to waltz back in here and demand a second chance," I say, my voice firm. "You don't get to act like you have a right to be in her life after you abandoned us."

He recoils as if I've slapped him. "Abandoned you? I never abandoned you, Bella. I was called to duty, to protect my country."

"And I would have understood it all if you…if you'd said you would come back to me."

"But I didn't know I'd return," he screams, wringing his hands in front of him. "I could have died out there, Bella!"

He stares at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, hurt, and something else I can't quite decipher. Then, without another word, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving me standing there, alone with my anger and the echoes of all that could have been.

I sink onto a rocking chair, the tears I've been holding back finally spilling over. I sob silently, the weight of my grief and anger crushing me. I know I'm making a terrible mistake, but it's like my heart and mind are dueling each other, and nothing is more pervasive than a deep, opaque rage, so potent it's wiped out my ability to stand and run after River, to tell him the truth—that I want a family, I want him, Ginny needs him, but I'm scared he'll do it again, as will the others.

This fairytale we've built could never last. It was all smoke and mirrors. And he'll leave again, leave me in a room with doctors telling me my baby has a low chance of survival, in a world where I'm constantly this angry, this sad, this helpless.

The tears keep falling. "Wait," I sob through rivers of tears, "Wait, River, wait."

A long while later, there's a knock on the door, and it opens. It's not River or Wyatt or Marcus. It's my dad. He sits down beside me.

"Where's Ginny?" I ask in a thick voice, sniffling loudly.

"In the car," he says and wraps his burly arm around my shoulders. "Waiting for us. Let's go home, Bella."

"Daddy, I—" A fresh wave of sobs erupts.

"You've just gone through a lot," he says firmly. "And your mother and I played our part in helping you when you were pregnant, child. I wasn't half the father I could have been back then, but I have a chance to make amends now. Come home."

My body shakes as I let him help me up.

Outside, Marcus and Wyatt are standing sentinel in the living room, their faces blanched white.

"Bella—"

"Don't leave," Wyatt says in a hoarse voice. "We can figure this out."

Beside me, I can feel my father's whole body stiffen. Perceptiveness runs in the family. I know he senses something is off, and it involves more people than River, me, and Ginny.

I can't muster a reply, but I mouth a sorry before wrenching free from his grasp and running to the car. River wasn't all wrong , I think as Dad gets in and starts the engine. I am a coward.