I absolutely hate myself right now.

And I’m convinced that I deserve every ounce of self-loathing that I feel. My shoulders slump under the weight of my guilt and I spend the whole day feeling like my heart will crack wide open and all my sticky, black pain will come gushing out.

But I can’t wallow. It’s just me and Ramona and a house full of crazy kids today. If I don’t pay attention, I can almost guarantee that one of them will somehow end up chopping off a finger in my NutriBullet by the end of the day.

I keep trying to remind myself that Archie reacted just as I feared he would. He found out the truth about River and he bailed on us. Sergeant Good Times is probably halfway to Mexico by now in that cherry red drop top Chevy of his. And I’m alone in the rubble of the dream I adjusted to make room for him.

I knew that I was better off on my own. Just me and River. I shouldn’t have allowed him in.

I was right all along. I knew he wouldn't want to be a father. I knew I was right to keep River from him. I was protecting her. And now, I've let her down.

Barely managing to keep from bursting into tears, I bumble my way through the day. I’m feeling extra anti-social so when the parents start showing up around 4:45, I leave Ramona in charge and head into the kitchen to finish washing up the dishes from lunch.

I’m elbow-deep in soap suds when Ramona comes sauntering into the kitchen as she loops her scarf around her neck. She leans into the fridge and grabs a juice box. “Hey, Sophia—all of the other kids are gone now.” She stabs the straw into the opening of the juice box, “but that hot Archie-guy is out there getting River dressed. He says he’s her dad and that he’s taking her to the park?” There’s a questioning lilt to her voice.

The soapy plastic bowl in my hand slips from my fingers and lands in the sink with a splash. Tearing past Ramona in the open doorway, I stiffen my spine and march into the play room, ready to ask this man what the hell he thinks he’s doing. But the sight that greets me turns my spine to mush.

Archie is sitting in one of the tiny little chairs with River seated on the art table in front of him. The child gnaws on a teething toy as her father slowly and carefully wiggles her little pink rain boot onto her foot. She's already dressed in her coat and hat and a colorful scarf that's not hers. She's overdressed for the weather, zipped all the way to the top.

Even when my ballet flats scuff to a stop on the linoleum floor, Archie's eyes don’t shift to my face. Instead, he picks up the brand-new pink umbrella stroller sitting at his feet.

"You ready?" he asks as he scoops his daughter off of the table.

Am I ready?

Ready for what exactly, I'm not sure. But I grab my sweater and nod, anyway.

He turns away from me, marching straight for the front door. I can see that he's struggling to leash all the anger that's pent up toward me. He’s a mountain of a man with his huge shoulders and his long frame. He’s slinking through the doorway, holding a pink backpack on his shoulder and a drooling toddler hitched to his side. My primal instincts kick into gear, arrowing reproduction signals to my fluttery lady parts like a distress call.

Silently following after them, I grab my keys. While I'm locking the door, he sets River down in the yard and figures out how to open the stroller for the first time. He pulls on a lever and the seat pops into place. I watch him pick up our daughter and tenderly place her in the seat. He straps her in and roughly wiggles the metal frame. He circles around the stroller, analyzing it from every angle then wiggles it again. When he’s finally sure that it’s safe, he kicks up the brake and throws a cutting glance my way. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the park is silent aside from River’s babbling. Archie stops at every yellow light. He checks and double-checks before crossing the street. His eyes dart around vigilantly for even the smallest threat.

Just seeing the amount of care he’s putting into something as simple as taking his child to the park is making my heart bleed. I was so wrong to keep him from River. I should have told him about her the minute he came to town. I’m so mad at myself that I waited for him to figure it out on his own.

With tender, careful movements, he pulls River from her new stroller and places her in a swing. I stand off to the side with my arms folded across my chest, trying to hold myself together.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Archie.” The words seem inadequate but they’re all I’ve got. “River is the center of my world. I love her with every inch of my heart and I would die if anyone tried to hurt her.” I sniff as the tears come pouring down.

Ignoring me completely, he watches the little girl as she flies through the air, giggling and kicking her feet up in front of her.

“You said you wouldn’t be in town for long, that you didn’t know how to settle down. I didn’t want her to become attached to you only for you to turn around and leave.” My chest shakes as I sob. “You can hate me all you want but—”

He spins around and grabs me by the shoulders. “That’s the fucking problem, Sophia. I don’t hate you. I love you so much I don’t know how to.”

When he releases me, I feel cold without his hands on me. “I was trying to protect her,” I justify weakly.

“Protect her? From me? This is my daughter we’re talking about here.” His eyes go red. They swim in tears. “I can’t even allow myself to think about all the important moments and once-in-a-lifetime milestones I missed. Your big, round pregnant belly and your crazy food cravings. Holding your hand as you gave birth. Driving my family home from the hospital. River’s first smile. Her first step.”

When he says that, my throat clogs with emotions because I lived all those moments and they’re my most precious memories. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want us. If you’d want to be a family. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“You don’t fucking get it. Of course, I want you. I’ve always needed you.” Frissons rise along my skin. His words strike me all the way to the core of my being. “And River? I didn’t expect her but she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve been searching for my purpose, Sophia. And here it is. I’ve finally found it—you and River standing right in front of me.”

His anger has melted now, leaving behind something soft, something like hope. I want to bathe in it. “Oh god, Archie. I’m so sorry.”

He breathes out roughly and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Look, it wasn’t your fault,” he says in a low voice. “I was on a different continent and you didn’t know you’d ever see me again. When I showed up in Copper Heights, you didn’t know if you could trust me. I get it. All I know is I’m done missing moments. I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

My heart has disintegrated. It’s a puddle in my chest. I have No. Fucking. Words.

“The bottom line is this—you’re not getting rid of me, Sophia. I’m here to be a family. The parent my daughter. To love you. I know you’ve been hurt and you’re just trying to protect yourself.” He reaches up and cups my face, gently running his finger along my cheekbone. “Your little self-sufficiency act is cute but’s not gonna get in the way of what I have to do. The choice is yours. You can just drop it now and let me love you or I’m going to fight until you see things my way. Until you see that you can rely on me to take care of you, to be your friend, to be your man. You can either open the door for me or stand back and protest while I tear down every single wall around your heart. Brick by brick. But either way, I’m gettin’ inside."

Swallowing hard, I decide to stop fighting this. I lay my hand over his heart and I feel it raging with conviction beneath the surface of his skin. Brushing my lips over his feels so right. “I’m opening the door, Archie. I’m letting you inside. I want you in my life.”