Page 275 of One Wild Wish

“We’ll send each other timed recordings.”

“Of the dirty variety?”

He slapped my bottom. “Fuck yeah.” He closed his eyes and brushed our noses together. A sweet, butterfly kiss.

At first, when the letter had sunk in, all I’d lost had burned my throat. I’d lived with a woman who I’d burdened instead of one who could have loved me. But if the reverse had led to a life without August, I wouldn’t want it. He was my family. My life. My future. I rubbed my belly against his, imaging it swollen with our child. He would always come first.

I rested my full weight on him. He hugged me tighter. Our breaths slowed and thinned. I drifted off slightly, in and out of a foggy sort-of sleep, eventually waking half-on and half-off him. My room was dark, only a hallway light illuminating the space. I briefly wondered if I’d dreamed the letter and details I’d learned. I wasn’t sure if I wanted this revelation to be real or imagined.

Real , I thought to myself. As real as the man who’d gathered me close to his thudding heart.

“I bet today is hard for her,” I said, my voice thick from napping.

August stirred and hummed his agreement. “But it’s your birthday, and it’s already been rough. It’s up to you how we spend it. You can call Sarah, if that number still works. We can hang out with your friends.” He slipped his hands up my shirt and tickled my back. “We can spend it in bed.”

As nice as that sounded, I was too overwrought to have sex. I kept glancing at the diary, the unearthed note. Couldn’t stop picturing Sarah struggling today, hating herself for the choice she’d made. A deeper self-loathing than I’d ever experienced.

“I’d like to call her,” I said, unsure it was the smart move, yet unable to put it off. “And I’d like to see the girls tonight.” My support network. The women I’d be leaning on after August left. “Is that okay?”

“Only if I can kiss you all night long.” He planted several soft ones on my lips.

“I’ll need as many as you can give. They’ll have to last me awhile.”

We kissed some more, slow and deep. He hardened against my thigh but didn’t roll his hips or increase his groping. He knew exactly what I needed.

He grunted eventually and nudged me fully off him—a man could only take so much. I fell into the dirt pile smearing my bed.

He grimaced. “We need to shower again. A no-sex shower,” he added, his voice gruff. “Then you can call Sarah, and then I’ll take you out for your birthday. After, we’ll talk about when I’m coming back to San Francisco and how excited I am for you to meet me in Germany. I’m gonna spoil you rotten. That cool with you, Possum?”

As nervous as I was about my impending phone call, as devastated as I was for him to drive to the airport at 5:30 a.m., my smile couldn’t be faked. After all these years, August Cruz was my boyfriend. “It sounds perfect.”

* * *

I sat on my couch, legs tucked under me, the phone heavy in my hand. My pulse feathered rapidly. I tried dialing Sarah’s number several times, only to hit End each time. Part of me hoped the number was a dud, that I wouldn’t be able to reach her yet. An excuse to pretend my life was normalish for one more night. A foolish wish.

August was in the bedroom, giving me privacy. I couldn’t see him, but his proximity boosted my courage. I dialed again. The phone rang. I didn’t hang up.

Pound, pound, pound went my thundering heart. I pressed the phone harder to my ear. The ringing persisted. No one picked up. My reluctance shifted to desperation. A full one-eighty of mood swings. She had to answer. It had to be her number. Learning I’d never meet my father had been a harsh blow. This suddenly seemed essential, to hear Sarah’s voice, connect with a parent. Tonight. Now.

The tendons in my neck felt ready to snap.

“Hello?” A voice answered. Her voice. My mother.

I opened my mouth to reply. Nothing came out.

“Hello?” Louder this time. There was a sweetness to her tone, modulated and pleasant. She didn’t sound like me or her sister. She didn’t sound like anyone I knew. She was a stranger, who was anything but. Another mother I wanted to know.

“Hi…” I cleared my scratchy throat. “I’m sorry to call like this. I’m just… This is…” I’d never been less eloquent in my life, the alphabet jumbling in my head.

“Who is this?” An edge crept into Sarah’s cordial tone.

The truth had never seemed so daunting, three strangled words that would change both our lives forever. Finding my father had been a lifelong task, one I’d believed would have a concrete result. Like learning his name would give me closure. The treasure at the end of a grueling hunt. This wasn’t the end, though. Finding my mother was the beginning. A journey I was ready to start.

Reminding myself how near August was, how full my life would always be, I said, “I’m your daughter.”

She sucked a harsh breath. “Gwen?” Gone was her wariness, the tremble in my name hinting at tears.

My vision blurred. “It’s me.”