Chapter 6 - Seven Winters
"His name is Leo James," Lauren whispered, staring out the dark kitchen window into the swirling snow. "James, after your grandfather. The one who taught you how to work with wood."
The words struck me like a physical blow. "You named him after my grandfather?"
"I hated you," she said simply. "For three years, I hated you with every breath I took. When he had colic and cried for six hours straight, I hated you. When I had to work double shifts at the pharmacy and leave him with the teenage girl next door, I hated you. But when he slept... he looked so much like you that it broke my heart. And your grandfather was the only man in your family who ever treated me with kindness. I wanted Leo to have that name. Not yours. His."
She took a sip of her coffee, her hands still shaking.
"Do you know what happened during the birth?" she asked.
I shook my head, terrified of the answer.
"His cord was wrapped twice around his neck," she whispered. "The monitor started screaming, and the room filled with nurses. They had to do an emergency C-section. They asked me who my emergency contact was, who was going to sign the authorization if I lost consciousness. I looked at the clipboard, Liam. The line for 'Father/Spouse' was blank. I had to sign my own life away while I was shivering on a gurney, completely alone."
A tear fell from my chin, landing with a soft *tap* on the surface of the coffee.
"I was in Billings," I choked out. "Drinking in a bar."
"Yes," she said. "You were."
"Lauren... if I could trade my life right now to undo that day, I would. I would cut out my own heart with a dull knife if it meant you didn't have to be alone in that room."
"I don't need your heart, Liam," she said, her voice trembling. "And I don't need your seventy thousand dollars to wipe your conscience clean. Leo needs stability. He has a routine. He has a life where he feels safe. He thinks his father is an idea—a story about a man who couldn't find his way back. If you come crashing into his life like a hurricane, apologizing and crying and trying to be a dad on holidays, you will ruin him."
"I don't want to ruin him," I begged, leaning forward, my hands flat on the table. "Lauren, please. Look at me. I am not the angry, reckless boy who walked out of that trailer. I haven't had a drink in five years. I run my own contracting crew. I have a house in Bozeman with four bedrooms that sits empty because every time I look at it, I wonder who I built it for. Let me be something to him. Anything. Even just the man who fixes the roof."
"You think it's that easy?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You think you can just buy your way back into the credits of a movie you walked out on during the opening scene?"
May you like
Before I could answer, the radiator clanked loudly, and the power flickered. The lights went out for two terrifying seconds before surging back to a dim, amber hum.
The storm had arrived in full force.
