Unaware of where I was or if I was anyone at all…I felt like nothing but a spirit. There was no light, no sensation. There was just a small sense of existence, not really on earth, but somewhere in space.

I was certain I was dead.

I thought I heard the loud beep of the monitor.

I thought I felt Diesel’s spirit collapse.

I thought I experienced things I couldn’t understand.

And then I saw something.

In an old building in Brooklyn, I stood inside the small studio apartment my father and I used to occupy. The paint was coming off the walls, the floorboards were crooked, the refrigerator constantly hummed like it was on its last leg, and the yellow couch still had the endless holes where the stuffing was seeping through.

It was home.

I used to sleep on one of the couches, while my father used the pullout bed. We had an old kitchen table we’d found at the flea market. It had two plastic cups on top, dishes that I forgot to wash. There was one picture of us on the counter, a day of us at the park.

It smelled the same as it used to.

I felt my expensive stilettos click against the hard floor as I moved. I was in my Suede clothing, an outfit Connor had specifically made just for me. I was the same age that I was before the bullet entered my chest.

But I never forgot how I used to be.

The sunlight filtered through the dusty windows, showing a view of the meat-packing facility across the street.

“Look at you.”

I stopped when I heard his voice, the deep sound that still found me in my dreams. It was full of a constant smile, full of my childhood memories. I stopped breathing when I heard it, a waterfall of emotions cascading over me. He’d been gone for ten years, but he never left my heart.

I slowly turned around and looked at my father. He wore the only pair of glasses he’d ever owned, square frames with thick lenses. His brown hair was turning gray, and it was shaggy and untamed. He wore his light-colored jeans and his blue t-shirt, one of the outfits he wore the most. His fingers were callused from the constant grip of the paintbrush.

He was exactly the same. “Daddy…”

He closed the gap between us and gripped me by the elbows, the smell of his cologne washing over me. “Tatum, you’ve grown into a beautiful woman. You look just like your mother… I can hardly believe it.”

He never mentioned my mother when he was alive. “I think I look like you too.”

His smile softened gently. “Definitely.” He ran his hands up my arms before he stepped back. “Richest woman in the world… I want to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. I always knew you would do great things. But such immense things…I couldn’t have anticipated.”

My eyes filled with tears, but not tears of pain. They were tears from something else entirely. “I wanted to take care of you. I wanted to give you a better life… I’m sorry I couldn’t do it fast enough.”

“A better life?” He tilted his head to the side, shooting me that surprised look he used to give me when I said something that didn’t make sense. “Tatum, I had a great life. I wish I could have given you better school clothes and paid for you to go to college…but I had everything else I needed. I had you. That’s always been more than enough.”

“Daddy…” Now the tears fell down my cheeks, two streams on my face.

“Sweetheart.” He gripped my elbows again. “Don’t be sad. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

“I know you are… I’ve always known.”

“And you published my book.” His lenses magnified the moisture in his eyes, showing the hint of tears. “You made my dream come true.”

“Of course I did.”

“That was very sweet of you.” He slowly rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “You have no idea how nice it is to see you again. But, I’ve been dreading this day too. It shouldn’t have come so soon.”

His words sank into me, their meaning heavy. “That means…”

“Yes.”

“Oh…”

He squeezed my arms gently. “Unless there’s something worth fighting for. Is there, Tatum?”

Diesel’s face came into my mind. I suddenly felt his ring on my finger, felt the weight of the small diamond. I raised my hand and showed it to my father.

He examined it with his same boyish smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you…you would love him.”

“I already do. Diesel Ammo…he’s a fine young man.”

I looked into his face again, feeling the swelling of my eyes and cheeks.

“Then it looks like there is something worth fighting for…”

I nodded. “Yes, there is. I want to stay with you… I miss you. But—”

“Go, sweetheart. Like I said, it’s too soon for you.” He released me and stepped back. “You have so many more things you need to do, Tatum. You’ve become the richest woman in the world at the age of thirty. What else are you capable of?”

“I’ve always wanted a family of my own.”

“Good. There’s no greater joy than having a child. I know from experience.”

My smile melted away as the tears kept coming.

He grabbed both of my hands and brought them together. “Go, sweetheart. Fight your way back to him. We’ll have our time later.”

“We didn’t have enough time in the first place…”

“We have eternity.” He squeezed my hands before he let go. “Can you give a message to Diesel?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him he has my blessing.”

A smile returned to my lips.

“And tell him to forgive himself.”

Just as quickly, my smile faded away. “Forgive himself for what?”

“For not taking that bullet for you.”