Page 120 of Stay Wild Darlin’

Poppy looked down at Cora, kissed the top of her head, then met my mother’s eyes squarely. “This little girl doesn’t care what company you own,” she said quietly. “She cares who shows up.”

Like that, I knew I wasn’t leaving this house ashamed. I was leaving with everything I needed because I already had it.

My mother pressed her lips into a line, and my father looked unimpressed.

Yet, something in me snapped.

“The reason I came here today—the only reason—is because I thought maybe you’d want to know your granddaughter.”

My father let out a faint scoff.

I shook my head, laughing bitterly under my breath. “I haven’t seen either of you in years. You never call. You don’t ask about me. You’ve never come to a single event, not even when I started winning. Not once have you shown up in Lindley.”

My father leaned forward. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want us around when you left.”

“I was a kid,” I snapped. “All I ever wanted was for you to see me as more than a disappointment. I left because no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough for you. So yeah—I built something without you. I worked my ass off, and I built a life you don’t ask about.”

My mother crossed her arms. “You’ve never reached out, either.”

I nodded. “You’re right. I didn’t. I was tired of being the only one who cared. When Cora came into my life—your granddaughter—I thought maybe that would matter to you. I thought maybe that would be enough to bring you back.”

They said nothing.

“She’s perfect. She’s smart and happy, and she deserves to know where she comes from. I thought you’d want to know her.”

My father finally spoke. “So you didn’t come here to make amends. You came to drop a kid on us?”

I stepped forward, fists clenched. “I didn’t come here to drop anything. I came here because this little girl has your blood, and I thought you might give a damn.”

Poppy stood, gently shifting Cora in her arms.

“He didn’t come here asking for anything. Not help. Not money. Not even forgiveness. Just a moment of your time, but it seems like even that’s too much.”

My mother glanced at Cora, then back at me, something unreadable flickering in her expression.

I realized I wasn’t angry anymore. I was done.

I turned toward Poppy, my chest aching but my mind clear. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t say another word.

I took Cora from Poppy’s arms and walked straight out the front door.

My boots hit the stone walkway harder than I intended, echoing off the cold, ostentatious quiet of the Culpepper estate. Cora had one tiny hand resting against my chest.

Behind me, Poppy called, “Dalton⁠—”

I didn’t stop.

I kept walking, straight to the car, jaw clenched, eyes fixed ahead like that might keep everything from collapsing.

“Dalton,” she said again, sharper this time, and her fingers tugged at my arm, forcing me to stop.

When I finally turned around, I couldn’t hide it.

The tear had already fallen. Just one, but it was there, and I couldn’t remember the last time one had come this easily.

Not for a girl.