Page 88 of Holding Ground

She nods, not looking up at me. “You’re right. I did. But I couldn’t think of the right words.”

I draw in a long breath, trying to gather my patience. “You’re here now. Why?”

She raises her eyes to meet mine, tears gathering at the edges. I’m surprised that the sight does nothing to me. There was a time when seeing her cry was so painful, I’d do anything to fix it. No more.

“Why are you here, Kate?”

“Because I have a daughter.” Her voice cracks.

“No. You had a daughter. One you left willingly when she was six months old. One you haven’t bothered to inquire about since you left.”

She starts crying, and I wait, keeping the wall between us up because I cannot afford to soften for her. Not when what happens here matters so much to Baylor.

When she gathers herself, she meets my eyes again. “I’m not going to try to defend what I did. I left her. I left you. I just felt trapped, and I couldn’t imagine dealing with that feeling for one more second. I know I did the worst thing a mother could do, and I’m not going to try to defend it. There is no defense for it. I’m not here to try to get you to forgive me.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I want to meet her. I want to know her.”

My jaw sets, and my hands fall to my sides in fists. “You want to come here and upset her life. She’s fine, Kate. She’s been fine without you. We figured it out.”

“I believe you. When I left, that was one thing I knew for sure. That you’d be the best father to her.”

“If that’s the case, then why are you here?”

“Because fine isn’t the same as whole.” Her words ring through my head. “Someday she’s going to have questions, Elliott. Questions that you can’t answer. Not because you’re not enough—you’ve always been enough. These are the kind of questions that only I can answer, and I’d rather be around to answer them for her than to have her wonder.”

I sit on the bench. Not because I want to, but because my legs might give out if I don’t.

When I started this conversation, it was with the goal of running Kate out of town. Now, I can’t help but question if that’s really what’s best for Baylor in the long run.

I think of Emelia and her quest to know more about where she came from.

I think about how many times I’ve imagined what my life would be like if my mother were still in it.

I think about Baylor’s friends at school making her feel bad because her mom isn’t in her life.

Baylor doesn’t ask about her mom often, but she knows there’s an empty space in her life where something should be. The same way you know a tooth is missing even after you stop poking at the hole.

We both stare at the lake, quiet, not saying anything.

My eyes squeeze shut, and I press the bridge of my nose. “What exactly are you asking for?”

“A meeting. At your house, or the park, a restaurant…wherever you’re comfortable. I just want to be able to sit across from her and see who she is.”

“And after that?” I cut a look toward her.

“I lost the right to decide that when I left. I know that. It’ll be up to you from there.”

I hold her gaze until I know she’s hearing me. “She’s not a toy you pick up off the shelf when you feel like playing with her, then set aside when you’re bored, Kate. I won’t let you back in her life to hurt her.”

She nods, a small amount of hope entering her green eyes. “I know.”

“I’m not sure you do, Kate. I need you to hear this—this isn’t about us. There is no us. This is about a little girl who didn’t do anything wrong and deserves not to be collateral damage in whatever journey you’re on.”

She doesn’t flinch at my words, doesn’t shirk back. Kate just takes them, which is more than she would’ve done half a decade ago.

I study her for a beat. “I need to think about it.”