Page 51 of Freefall

“What?”

“You heard me, Harper. She’s my daughter. I should know if you’re letting strange men around her.”

She scoffs. “Strange men? TJ is a dad from school. Daisy is friends with his daughter. Not that it’s any of your business.”

I flex my hand to keep myself from touching her, but there’s no mistaking my intentions when I say my next words. “She is my business. Which means you are too. Whether you like it or not, Harper, we’re tied together forever now. No more running. No more hiding shit from me. Do you understand?”

A flash of defiance I know all too well crosses her face, and if we weren’t in the middle of a public park, I would spank her for that look alone.

“Oh, I understand,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re still the same controlling asshole you were years ago.”

“Maybe so, but it doesn’t change anything.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “What about the other night? Did that change anything?”

“No. It was a one-time thing.”

“Got it.” She turns to walk away.

“Harper.”

“What, no more Dani? You seemed to really enjoy calling me that when your fingers were⁠—”

“Don’t,” I warn. “It was a mistake.” I don’t miss the way hurt shines in her eyes at the word before she schools her features.

“Great. Well, we have to go now,” she says sweetly, then not so sweetly, “Thanks for the ice cream.”

“Wait. When can I see her again?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have an early day on Wednesday.”

“That doesn’t work. It’s back-to-school night.” She says it absentmindedly, but her eyes go wide when she realizes her mistake. I wait for a second to see if she’s going to invite me, even though I know she won’t. “Maybe this weekend.”

“Okay,” I say as softly as I can manage. “Can I say goodbye?”

I’m not sure why I ask for permission. She’s my own damn kid. Maybe I feel guilty about calling what we did on Friday a mistake, or maybe I’m just exhausted from the last two weeks. Either way, she nods, and we walk in silence to where Daisy is climbing a ladder up to a slide.

“Time to go, honey,” Harper calls out as Daisy comes barreling down the red plastic, her braid flapping behind her.

“Aww. Can we stay for five more minutes?”

She sighs. “Fine, but Nate has to go now.”

“Bye, Nate!” she chirps as she walks around to climb the ladder again.

A tight knot forms in my throat. “Bye, Daisy.”

Daisy.

Glittering sunlight catches the strands of her hair as she disappears behind the ladder, and I finally let myself think it.

She named our daughter Daisy.

She ran away, pregnant and alone, after everything we both said, and she named the baby growing in her belly after my mother’s favorite flower.

That has to mean something.