Chapter 20

S itting up in the chair, I wipe my eyes, realizing I must have fallen asleep. Which is pretty fucking impressive and shows how tired I was because this place smells like disinfectant and has about thirty beeping sounds going off every minute. Oh, and about an hour ago, an old dude walked by our room with his pants down. I saw his saggy nuts, decrepit willy, and wrinkly ass.

Even with the IV in her arm and all the annoying-as-fuck sounds, Amelia sleeps peacefully in the bed. I look at the clock on the wall, taking note that it's six at night. We've now been here for over ten hours.

"Sweetheart, go get you some coffee, would you?" Judy says, walking in. "I'm here for two more hours, and then I'm off for a few days. I need to chart; I can do it in here while she sleeps." She pulls out the chair near the bed and plops down. "Go on. I've got your number in her chart if we need you." She looks at me from the top of her glasses. "That pretty girl has been in the cafeteria all day. You know, she could have stayed up here."

Maci is still here? Like … in this building?

I gaze at my daughter once more before finally standing up. "Are you sure she'll be okay?"

"I'm positive." She smiles. "Go stretch your legs, Dad. It's going to be a marathon, not a sprint. You need to take breaks every now and then."

Most of me really doesn't want to leave my kid while she's lying in a hospital bed with an IV in her tiny body, which is probably a few pounds lighter than it was a few days ago. But I also know that until I figure out what the fuck is going on with Maci, it's going to drive me crazy, and I'll expect the absolute worst.

Leaning forward, I kiss Amelia's head and head toward the door. "Thank you," I say, looking at Judy. "I'll be back shortly."

Right now might not be the best timing, but Maci McKenzie is going to tell me what the fuck is going on. Because I'm tired and I'm done playing games.

I find Maci in a corner booth in the cafeteria with a nearly full coffee in front of her, which doesn't look fresh, and bags under her eyes, which make her look like she hasn't slept in days.

"Talk," I say, sitting down across from her. "Tell me everything. And don't lie."

Her face falls as she takes me in, but slowly, she nods. "Okay."

The hardest thing about hearing something that will change everything is staying silent and listening to the entire story when all you want to do is make it stop. Because you don't want things to change.

I don't want things to change.

But now, here I sit, subject to hearing it all.

"You know my dad died in a car accident, but you don't know the whole truth about that day." Tears stream down her face, and her voice barely croaks out each word, almost like each sentence hurts to come out. "My dad wasn't the only person who died that day, Logan." Her lip trembles, and her face is pale with hardly any color. "Cassandra—Amelia's mom … she died too."

The words hit me like a punch straight to the chest, making me realize that ignorance truly is bliss sometimes. "Wh-what?"

Covering her face with her hands, she visibly shakes. "The car that Cassandra crashed into when she ran the red light? It was mine." Her words are muffled, but I can understand them. Though I sort of wish I couldn't. "My dad was brought here. To this hospital. Where he was"—she drags in a breath—"pronounced dead."

I let her words sink in, feeling my breath leave my body. "What did the nurse mean when she said she hadn't seen the three of us since Amy was born?"

For a moment, she's quiet, seemingly gathering herself up to say the words. "When I was here, I heard that the pregnant woman had died, but that the baby survived." She pulls her hands down from her face, and devastated red eyes look into mine. "I wanted to see for myself." She chokes the words out. "I needed to see for myself." She wipes her cheeks. "The only thing that has kept me going was knowing that the innocent baby had survived and was healthy." She sobs, shaking her head.

"I'm just going to go in the restroom for a minute," she weeps. "I'll be right back." Getting up quickly, she rushes into the restroom.

When I came down here, I assumed I was going to find out that she was secretly a superfan or some shit and that she'd planned for us to meet and for her to be my kid's nanny. That was the only answer I could come up with as to why she'd met my daughter on the day she was born. But then I learned the truth.

And I think the truth might be even worse.

My stomach churns, and my head feels like I've been spinning in circles for an hour without stopping as I let my brain digest the realization that Amelia and Maci are connected further back than when she became her nanny.

I knew whatever she needed to tell me was bad, but this … this is unimaginable. My most important job in my life is—and will always be—protecting my daughter. And yet I've put someone directly in her life who is tied to her mother's death in a way I never imagined.

It wasn't Maci's fault, no. But when Amelia is old enough to figure out what happened to her mother, will she understand that? And then there's the other side of shit, the one where … I have to wonder if Maci connected the dots sooner than she's saying she did.

Being a professional athlete has made it hard for me to trust people or look for the good in their intentions. I thought I knew Maci better than this. What if I don't?

When she returns, she's blotting her eyes with a paper towel. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I should have told you sooner. But …"

"I told you not to," I say, guessing the rest of her words.

"Well, kind of," she squeaks, her eyes shifting to the table, ashamed. "And it just never felt like the right time."

Her lip trembles, and I notice the red streaks covering her chest and neck.

"By the time I learned who Amelia was … and figured it all out, I was so attached." She lifts her broken gaze to me. "To her and to you."

She reaches for my hand, but before I even realize what I'm doing, I pull back, tucking it under the table as my knee bounces up and down. Everything feels like a lie, even though she didn't really betray me. I don't know where this leaves us.

I don't have a clue what the fuck this means.

"I have to get back to Amy," I mutter, not looking her in the eye as I slide from the booth and head toward the exit.

I need to get away from her. It feels like the walls are closing in and I can't move quickly enough.

Someone who has been my escape is turning into my demise.

"Logan," she cries, walking behind me as I head into the hallway.

I thank fucking God that no one is around to see because the tabloids would have a fucking field day with this.

"Please, just … wait." She sounds panicked. "Please!"

I push open the door into the stairwell, not wanting to waste my time with the elevator, and that's when she rushes around me, attempting to block me from going any further.

"Please, Logan." She's hysterical now. "Don't walk away. I need you to know how sorry I am. I … wanted to tell you right when I learned the truth—"

"Then, why didn't you? When we were lying in bed, naked, and I fucking spilled my guts to you"—I glare at her—"you fucking knew the truth, and you lied to me when I asked if everything was okay. You told me you were fucking tired."

"I know," she utters, tears streaming steadily down her cheeks. "I was scared."

"Of what ?" I growl.

"Of losing you!" she cries out. "Of losing the closest thing to a family of my own!"

I stare at her for a moment, anger searing through every bit of my body. But the stupid thing is, I don't think I'm even angry with her; instead, I'm angry with the universe for fucking everything up for us.

"Well, guess what." I lean closer, my chest heaving. "You just fucking lost us, Boston. Congratulations."

The hurt covers her entire face, almost as if I slapped her. Her shoulders sink just before she grabs a fistful of my shirt to keep me close.

"I promise you, you could never hate me more than I hate myself, Logan." The words come out as a tortured croak, softening my hardened shell, but only a little. "That day has haunted me every single minute since I lived it. It'll haunt me for the rest of my life too."

Taking her hand, I push it away from me before stepping around her. "Leave, Maci. I don't want you here," I growl lowly and walk up the stairs, never looking back.

The last sight I'd ever want to see is Maci McKenzie in pain. But I can't put her back together. I have a sick kid who needs me.

The same kid I need to protect from the truth about her mother for as long as I can. Even if that means keeping Maci away from us.

I sit in the stairwell, my head between my knees. I'm not sure how long I've been here, but it's been long enough for dozens of people to walk past me. Even with my face buried, I can feel their stare. But we're in a hospital, so seeing someone crying in a stairwell is probably normal.

I remember this stairwell all too well. After all, it was the same place I ran to and cried when my dad was declared dead. An accident I had been driving in. I sat here for hours, ignoring my mom and sister when they came from Boston.

When I finally stood up, I walked to the obstetrics unit, where I found Judy. I lied about who I was—telling her that I was a relative of the child's—just so that I could see with my own two eyes that the baby was okay. That someone—besides me—had survived the crash.

I didn't understand why, out of everyone, I'd survived. And why a pregnant woman had died. Even if it was her fault, what kind of cruel universe would take a baby's mother away before they ever got the chance to meet?

If only Logan had been there at the same time as I was, I would have learned the truth, and then I never would have crashed into their lives a few months ago, making things worse for them. But the universe works in weird ways, and sometimes, your greatest blessings can also be the biggest heartaches.

I sit up, wiping my eyes and smoothing my hair. He doesn't want me around anymore, which I know I have to accept because, at the end of the day, every decision Logan makes is ultimately for the well-being of his daughter. But I need to still be there for Amelia while she's in the hospital. Besides, Logan looked so tired. He needs rest. For days, he's been going nonstop. He went from playing in a hockey game to rushing home on a red-eye flight to take care of his daughter.

I push to my feet, and my legs are shaky as I make my way up the stairs. I'm going to Amelia. And I just hope that her father will allow me to enter the room.

When I peek into the room, Amelia is lying on her side, sound asleep, and Logan is sitting in the chair, talking quietly on the phone. I don't want to eavesdrop, but it's hard not to hear.

"Just grab me a change of clothes and Amelia a fresh pair of pajamas. She likes the ones that have cows on them." He pauses. "Oh, and you can feed Clyde and let him outside if he's there." He utters the words in a grouchier tone than I've ever heard him use. "Oh. Yeah, I didn't realize Maci called you earlier to tend to him. Well, if you let him out again, just watch him outside. He likes to go down by the ocean, and I get nervous about that."

He listens for a moment, still not seeing me.

"Thanks. See you in a bit."

When he ends the call, I clear my throat. His eyes fly to mine, and there's no missing the anger in them. That look that I wanted to avoid at all costs, this is it. He's looking at me like I'm not even a person anymore when, hours ago, he looked at me in a way I'd only described in my books.

Maybe happily ever after really is only for fairy tales.

"What are you do—"

"Please, I'm begging you, Logan. Don't order me to leave," I whisper, taking a step inside the room. "I just want to stay here with her until she's better. After that, if what you want is to never see me again … I'll respect your wishes, and I'll leave."

He doesn't speak; he just looks away. I've never been the type to push the envelope. I follow the rules because I've always liked to have rules in place. Right now … I'm putting my foot down.

Walking around to the other chair, I sit down. The veins in his neck bulge, and his jaw clenches tightly.

"Maci, I'm not playing fucking games," he hisses. "My kid is in a motherfucking hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and getting breathing treatments every few hours. Now is not the time to fucking piss me off."

"The last thing I want to do is piss you off, Logan. Or stress you out more than you already are," I whisper. "You and Amelia opened my eyes, allowing me to see the world again. For so long, it hurt too much to look around." My lip trembles. "I love her. I want to be here for her." My eyes flood with tears, making it impossible to see him. "I love her, and I love you." I sniffle. "I am in love with you. And I know you don't owe me anything. But if it's time for me to say goodbye to the two loves of my life, please, at least let me stay here to watch her until she feels better."

I know he isn't going to say the three words back. How could he love me anyway? Everything is far too messed up now. But I needed him to know where I stand.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he utters, standing up and walking to the window, staring outside. "Nothing will ever be the same, Maci. You have to know that."

"I know." My voice creaks like a door in the middle of the night when you're trying not to wake the whole house. "I'm not asking for it to be the same. I'm just asking you to let me be here for her." I pause. "Go home and shower, and I'll be here. And when you return, I can go back to the cafeteria."

His arm leans against the window, and I know he's thinking about what to do. His lips part, like he's going to say something, and that's when I hear her sweet voice.

"Maci, you're back," Amelia whispers, her beautiful blue eyes opening wider. "I missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you," I say, fighting to keep the emotion out of my voice because this little girl doesn't need the added stress of knowing something is up with me and her dad. She just needs to see that we're both here because we love her.

"Are you going to stay?" she asks weakly, her voice raspy from her cough.

I don't dare to look at her dad, worried I'll lose it. For a second, I sit there, frozen and unsure of what to say. But before I have to, Logan beats me to it.

"I'm going to run home and shower and change, and Maci is going to hang out with you till I get back." He pushes off the wall and walks beside the bed. Craning his neck down, he brushes her hair from her forehead. "Is that okay?"

She nods quickly. "Can you snuggle Clyde, Daddy?" She looks worried as her bottom lip pokes out. "He must be so sad. Can you give him a kiss for me?"

"A kiss, really?" Logan widens his eyes. "Have you ever smelled that dude's breath? He's gross."

"Daddy! You have to!" she scolds him.

Kneeling next to her, Logan drops his voice low. "The other day, I saw him drinking out of the toilet. And you want me to kiss him? Are you forgetting that you are the queen of not flushing after you use the bathroom?"

"Daaaad," she says, clearly annoyed.

He sighs. "Fine, fine. But not on the lips. Only on, like … the forehead. Deal?"

"Deal," she says, happy with his answer.

"If they bring you some more chocolate pudding, you'd better tell them you want double because you're hungry." He winks. "You know how much I love my pudding."

She giggles, wheezing slightly. "I will."

Kissing her forehead, he stands. "I'll be back in a bit, Mighty A. Love you lots."

"Love you too, Daddy," she says sweetly.

And then he leaves the room without looking my way, and yet I watch him as he gets farther down the hall, just to make sure he never glances back. Even though he still walks the same, he carries himself differently. Logan always moves like he doesn't have a care in the world. Right now, with his shoulders tense and his body rigid, it's the opposite.

And it's all my fault.

"Maci?" Amelia manages to bark out through a cough.

"Yeah, babe?" I tear my eyes from Logan and turn toward her.

"Do you love my daddy?" she asks. Her bright eyes look so much more tired than usual as she stares up at me. "Because I think my daddy loves you." She gives me an exhausted smile. "And I love you too."

I don't have any idea what to say that won't be overstepping. And the last thing I want to do is anything that will upset Logan. So, when the nurse walks in to check her vitals, I sigh in relief even though my heart still aches, knowing I might never get to tell her the truth.