a shit about me either way, but I need your guidance. I need a sign in what I need to do. I love Anna. God, I love her so much that it scares me to lose her. She’s my everything, but I’m willing to let her go if it’s the right thing to do.” Tears drip down onto my shirt. “What should I do?”
A gentle knock at the door causes my head to snap in its direction. No one knows where we are staying so having a visitor startles the hell out of me.
I hop up on my feet and then dry my face with the sleeve of my T-shirt.
I open the door and, at first, don’t see anyone until I drop my gaze about four feet. Standing there is a little dark-haired girl, wearing a pink dress and clutching a teddy bear to her chest.
“Da? Da?” is all she says. Clearly she’s still in the babbling phase of her communication skills.
I furrow my brow just as a woman from down the hallway scoops up the child into her arms.
The woman grimaces as she stares up at me, obviously intimidated by my towering frame. “I’m so sorry. No. No. Anna. Stay with Mommy.”
My mouth falls open, and for the first time in my life, I swear I’ve witnessed a miracle. I asked for a sign, and the man upstairs sure as hell provided me with one.
It’s clear to me at that moment what I’m supposed to do. I need to find a way to make things work with Anna, and say to hell with all the things that could happen because I’ll fight to keep her and my baby safe until my last dying breath.
Anxious to see Anna and begin groveling for her forgiveness, I sprint all the way back to the hotel where I know all the wrestlers are staying.
I burst through the doors and cut in front of the line at the concierge desk. “What room is Anna Cortez in?”
The woman, who is obviously put off by my behavior, looks at me with a resting bitch face. “We cannot give out that information. Now if you don’t mind step away from the counter.”
“Fine,” I say. “You don’t want to tell me, I’ll just go up and down every hallway searching for her. I think I’ll start here in the lobby. Anna! Anna?”
My voice commands the attention of the entire room and every head turns in my direction.
“Sir! Lower your voice. Please, sir!” The woman keeps trying, but I ignore her and begin walking toward the elevators when a man I vividly recognize from Atlanta steps in front of me. “What are you, crazy? You can’t go around yelling for my daughter like that.”
I stare down at Anna’s father. “What are you doing here? She doesn’t want to see you.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I could say the same thing to you. I heard what you did. Got my daughter pregnant and then ran out on her. What happened to all that preaching you did to me, huh? The same rules not apply to Mr. Superstar?”
He’s right. I did give him the tenth fucking degree for not treating her right, and I haven’t been doing much better myself lately.
“You’re right. I’ve been screwing up. But I’m going to do my best to beg her forgiveness.”
Mr. Cortez sighs and rubs his chin. “My daughter will forgive you because she’s a good girl and knows the words of the Good Book. Forgive and you will be forgiven.”
“Luke, six, thirty-seven.” When he quotes the line of scripture, I remember reading that passage over and over as a kid, wishing Grandmother would apply that rule to herself every time she told me she hated me.
He lifts his eyebrows in surprise. “You know HIS word?”
I lift my chin. “I do. And I believe he put the two of us together for a reason. She’s my angel and has been saving my life since the day I met her.”
He smoothes back his dark hair as he contemplates what I say. “She’s in room four, thirty-two.”
We are far from friends, but it seems we have an understanding now when it comes to the type of relationship his daughter and I share.
My lips pull into a tight line and I nod my head. “Thank you.”
I turn and head for the elevators and jump into the first one that opens, pressing the button to the fourth floor.
I make it up to the room and take a deep