"Twenty-four years ago," Vincent said, "I was engaged to a woman named Renee."
Amara's head snapped up. Renee was her mother's name.
"We were young. Broke. When she got pregnant, I was over the moon. I worked two jobs. Painted the nursery myself."
He stopped for a second.
"When Amara was two, Renee got an offer to move to California with a man she met at work. I came home one morning and the apartment was empty. No note. No number. Nothing."
Celeste had her arms crossed. "And you never looked for her?"
"I looked for three years," Vincent said. "Spent every dollar I had on lawyers. Renee changed her last name. Moved four times. Finally I got a letter from her lawyer. Amara had a new father now, it said. If I really loved my daughter, I'd let her grow up without confusion."
Amara's hand flew to her mouth.
"That's not true," she whispered. "Mom told me you didn't want me. She said you left before I could even walk."
Vincent's eyes filled up.
"I have a box in the garage," he said. "Every birthday card I ever wrote you. Twenty-two of them. I never knew where to send them."
For a while, nobody said anything.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Celeste asked. Softer now. Still hurt. "Fifteen years, Vincent."
"Because I was ashamed," he said. "Ashamed I lost her. Ashamed I gave up. Every year it got harder to say."
Jordan got up and walked out to the backyard.
Amara found him ten minutes later, sitting on the edge of the pool, staring at the water.
"Jordan."
"We're not related," he said, not looking at her. "Right? He's my stepdad. We don't share any blood."
"No," she said. "We don't."
"Then why does it feel like the whole world just ended?"
She sat down next to him.
"Because tonight I found my father," she said. "And I might be losing you at the same time."
This is a fictional story. Names, characters and events are invented. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.
