sorry, baby,” I crooned as I scooped her up. “I’m just feeling bitter and overwhelmed. You’re still my sweet, sweet girl, and I’m going to fix this. Christian, will you help me with some research?”
I’d picked the coffee shop as a neutral meeting place. It was busy, I knew the baristas, and most of all, I didn’t want Kyle anywhere near my home or daughter—or Javi.
When he came in, smile slick, I struggled to keep myself reined in. He slid into a chair next to mine, trying to make our knees touch. I pointedly got up and moved to the chair across from him, and Kyle pouted but didn’t move.
He eyed my coffee. “I wanted to buy that.” As if buying my latte would somehow buy my forgiveness. “Where’s Giuliana?”
“Not here. This is a conversation for you, and you alone,” I said, my voice flat.
“I’d hoped to see her,” he said, pleading and gentle. “She’s gotten so big...and I know I missed all of it. I can’t take that back. But there’s still so much I don’t want to miss, like her first steps and when she calls me dada for the first time.”
I knew he was trying to play up that he cared about her—but if he cared about her, he never would have made the myriad of bad choices he’d made. And the thought of her calling him dada made me want to vomit.
“You are never going to see her again, Kyle. She’s not your daughter. You left before you could sign adoption papers. You left before you could help pay for the in vitro services that helped the surrogate conceive her. You didn’t help pay for the hospital bills, or the diapers, or the formula, or the one hundred fucking toys and baby items around the house.”
Kyle sat up straighter. “If this is about money—”
But I didn’t let him go further. “You weren’t there when she woke up every two hours. You weren’t there to take care of her when all I wanted was a shower and five minutes to myself. You weren’t there for her first trip to the hospital, or her first smile, her first tooth, when she was finally able to sit up on her own.”
I planted my hands on the table and leaned forward.
“Do you see where I’m going with this? You are not her father and you have no fucking rights to her, and if you continue to lie on the internet about your relationship with her, I. Will. Ruin you.”
It felt good to go full Papa Bear mode. There was no more patient, peaceful Gordo. I wasn’t going to try and talk this through and come out with wrinkles smoothed. I was going to scorch the earth between Kyle and me, and then I was going to salt it.
“This feels like overkill, Gordo. You’ve never talked to me like this before,” Kyle said. He sounded genuinely surprised, and maybe he was, because it was true—I’d never spoken up to him with this level of anger, even at our worst. But he was threatening those I loved and I wouldn’t roll over this time. “I get that I hurt you, and badly. I really do, and that is on me, and it will take forever to make it up. But I can try forever if it means having you and Giuliana in my life.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you really happy dating a thug? Someone who looks like he stepped out of prison yesterday?”
“Javi has been the best thing to happen to me since Giuliana. I don’t owe you all of the reasons why, but you should hear that and understand it: He makes me happy. I’m in love with him, and if I have it my way, he’ll be in my life forever. If he agrees, Javi will be Giuliana’s father, and he’ll be the best damned father a child could wish for.”
Kyle rocked back like I’d slapped him. I knew his ego was more fragile than he let on, and this was a hard hit. “How am I supposed to just walk away from you?”
“Just like you did before. Only this time it will be for good. No more calls. No more texts. No slander and harassment. I don’t want to take legal action against you, but believe me—I will. In a heartbeat, if it means protecting my family—and Javi is my family, too.”
All of his swagger melted away. Kyle’s shoulders slumped and he curled in on himself. There were tears