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I’m surprised Evan never said anything about it, but I guess it wasn’t his secret to tell. All the silence ends now. I’m going to pry answers from him the minute I can.
Finally, Isabella emerges from the school with a child walking along beside her. I recognize her as the child Jules was carrying in the kitchen. Today, she’s in a soccer uniform that says, “Knights” in bold red letters. A few blood stains are scattered in with the green grass. The kid’s holding gauze to her forehead. Head wounds bleed like a bitch, I would know. She’s a tough little thing, though, not a tear in sight.
I consider the two of them. Izzy has auburn hair and hazel eyes, but the little girl’s hair is dark, and her skin is more tanned than either of the Rossi siblings. She’s cute as a button—for a kid.
It’s weird, as an only child, I’ve never really been around kids. I don’t have nieces or nephews. Children are a mystery to me… but the fact that this is Izzy’s daughter feels different.
I like Izzy’s daughter just because she belongs to the woman who I’ve never quite gotten out of my system. I just wish I’d known sooner, that I could’ve been there for her. That I could’ve noticed when another man swooped in and claimed a piece of Izzy that I’d always secretly hoped would belong to me.
Izzy helps her daughter into the back seat before getting in beside me. “Can we make a pitstop at the hospital?” She asks.
I peer at the little girl over my shoulder. “Stitches?” She nods. “Ever had ‘em before?” She shakes her head. “Can I tell you a secret? I play football, and I’ve been to the hospital twelve times. Twelve. And every time you get stitches, you have to eat ice cream immediately because it helps with the healing.”
Izzy smirks, but her eyes are still distant, worried.
The girl grins. “Really?”
“Doctor’s orders.” I turn and start the car. “What’s your favorite flavor?” I ask as I pull away from the curb.
“Rocky road.”
“Ah, yes, just like your mom.” I meet a pair of dark eyes in the rearview mirror and wink. “I’m Nathan, by the way.”
“I know who you are. I’m Rory,” she says. “You play football. I’ve seen you on tv before. Mom watches every game.”
“Rory.” Izzy’s eyes flash with annoyance.
“Ah, the plot thickens.” I can’t help but smile at Izzy, just to watch her cheeks turn pink.
She folds her arms and sinks deeper in her seat. “The hospital is off 5th.”
From the back I hear, “Kelsey Peters is never going to believe this.”
I stay in the car at the hospital. Someone has to keep Murphy company. I take this moment to finally call Evan.
“Hey, Evan!”
“Hey man, I’m surprised to hear from you so soon. A text convo and a phone call all in one week is like a record for you.”
“Yeah, well, we’re living in the same city now… didn’t you say you fly in this week?”
“I got in this morning. Izzy was supposed to pick me up at the airport, but she didn’t show.”
Because she was sleeping the sleep of the unconscious, I think with a smile as an image of her snoring with her comforter pulled all the way up to her chin flashes through my mind. “About that,” I say. “Her daughter got hurt at soccer practice. She’s fine, but she needed stitches. I’m guessing Izzy forgot about the airport. Kinda like how she forgot to mention she had a daughter in the first place.”
There’s dead silence on the other end of the line. Yeah, just like I thought.
“Evan? You still there, buddy?”
“You met Rory?” There’s something in his voice. Something like pain, and surprise and… the earth shifts beneath my feet—well, it would if I were standing. Since I’m sitting, I suppose it shifted beneath my ass. The walls of the hospital outside the window curve in unnatural ways as my vision warps.
It all seems so clear, laid out before me.
There was no other man. No random hookup… I’m the random hookup. I really am going to the bad place. Maybe this is the bad place…
Finally, I can place the nagging sense of familiarity the moment I laid eyes on Rory… she has my eyes, my complexion, my hair—Christ she’s like my mini-me.
Her mannerisms, those are all Izzy, but the rest…
