Sean

The halo from my headlights spread from the garage door to the red brick exterior as I pulled into Melissa’s driveway.

The in-dash clock jolted me out of my stupor: 10:22 p.m. I’d been driving for hours, ever since I left Scott’s office.

Bone weary and emptier than I’d ever been, I slid my key into the lock on the front door.

“Hello?” I called, flipping the deadbolt behind me. “Anybody home?”

Melissa’s raspy voice drifted from the family room. “In here, sugar.”

Sinking onto the edge of the recliner, I buried my head in my hands. Melissa scooted to the end of the couch, and the scent of rose petals and vanilla enveloped me. By intention or by design, she smelled just like my mother.

“What is it?” Melissa wobbled to her feet when I didn’t answer. “Sean, look at me.”

I didn’t have the strength. Or more likely I didn’t want Melissa to see it all. The failure, the shame, the fucking mess I’d made of things.

Again.

If the road to hell was paved with good intentions, many of the bricks had my name on them.

Tears pricked the back of my eyes as I stared down at my boots. When Melissa laid a hand on my shoulder, I gave up, wrapping my arms around her waist and letting her soothe me like I was a child.

Her thin, birdlike frame brought me back to the present—her present—and I clenched my teeth and straightened.

“I’m fine.” I managed a weak smile, regretting my decision to come here in the first place. “There’s just some shit going on.”

Melissa’s blue gaze clouded with concern. I didn’t do this kind of emotion, and she damn well knew it. Yet, here I was, in a dimly lit room, looking up at one of only a handful of people who could read me like a book.

Before I could set her mind at ease, Melissa dropped a copy of Us Weekly face up in my lap. “Does it have something to do with this?”

Reunion! Sean Hudson and Kimber Tyson rekindle their romance as the bad boy drummer prepares to announce plans for a European tour.

As Mandy had predicted, the story had grown legs.

“I’m guessing that’s all bullshit.” Doubt flickered in Melissa’s eyes. “Right, sugar?”

Tossing the rag on the floor, I pushed out a breath. “Of course it is. But it’s not just that.”

A humorless laugh rumbled from my chest. It seemed my fuck-ups had now reached the point where more than one could cause this kind of grief.

That took talent.

Melissa sank back onto the couch and drew in a labored breath.

“Are we playing twenty questions? Because I’m not up to it, Sean. Why don’t you just tell me what happened.”

Apparently, my selfishness knew no bounds. Because instead of leaving and dealing with my mess on my own, I looked down at my clasped hands and let it all pour out. When I finished, my guts lay in a puddle on the floor at Melissa’s feet.

My aunt shifted, her rigid posture warring with the sympathy etching her brow. “I can see why Anna would think you set her up. What is she saying about it?”

“She won’t talk to me.”

“So you haven’t spoken to her, and now you’re in a legal battle?”

I wish. I’d face Anna’s wrath over her silent exile any day.

“Nope. No legal battle.” I dropped my head to the back of the chair. “She agreed to everything. Visitation. DNA testing—”

“You asked for a DNA test?” Melissa’s feet hit the floor with a thud. “Sean, how could you do that?”

For the hundredth time, Willow’s blue eyes flashed behind my lids. But it wouldn’t have mattered if they were green, or brown, or yellow with polka dots. She was mine.

“It’s standard procedure. I was following my attorney’s orders.”

Melissa saw right through my bullshit. “Since when do you follow anyone’s orders?”

“What do you want me to say?” I growled, shoving to my feet. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like this!”

Melissa jabbed her finger against my chest, then roared, “Dammit, Sean! Stop making excuses.”

Disappointment curved her shoulders, and she grabbed my arms, for support or to shake me, I couldn’t tell.

Shame washed over me, and I eased her onto the couch.

“I shouldn’t have come. I’ll deal with it, Lissa, I swear.”

“Horse shit. We’ll figure it out together.” Her hand flew to her throat as a coughing fit ensued. “Get me a Dr. Pepper,” she wheezed. “So I can think.”

When I returned with the soda, Melissa was sitting at the far corner of the couch, glancing over the pictures on the side table. I recognized the 8x10 of Anna and me in our graduation garb. Three brightly colored chords hung from her neck, a testament to all her achievements. Her unlimited promise. At the time, I had nothing but a dream and the love of a girl who was way out of my league.

“You know, technology is pretty useful sometimes,” Melissa said softly as I handed her the can. “Chelsea showed me how to send those snapshots I took straight to Walgreens. Do you know they had them ready in an hour?”

Two smaller pictures I’d never seen sat in silver frames. One of Willow on Anna’s lap, her little face tilted to her mother in adoration, and the other, a candid shot of the three of us.

The pain in my chest threatened to break me in half.

My family.

“Are you going to hide out here for a couple of days?” Melissa asked. “It’s your house too. You know you’re always welcome.”

Flopping onto the sofa, I draped my arm over her shoulder. “I’ve got visitation with Willow tomorrow morning at Alecia and Brian’s.”

She cackled. “That’ll teach you. Brian’s going to tune you up but good.”

I sighed. “I could have had Willow’s visits here if I wanted. Anna gave me the choice.”

She’d always given me choices. I’d been the one who’d refused to negotiate.

Reading my mind, Melissa huffed, “That girl’s amazing. Still making it easy on you. You need to do whatever it takes to get her to talk to you.”

The weight of Melissa’s expectations added to the exhaustion spreading through my limbs. “There’s not much I can do if she won’t answer me.”

She hummed, lacing our fingers. “Do you remember when that guy hit your pickup truck when you were in high school?” I nodded, and she laughed. “When you found out he didn’t have insurance, you followed him around for a month to make sure he paid for that dent. Not that anyone would notice one dent in that old rust bucket.”

Dropping my head back, I closed my eyes. “Is there a point coming anytime soon?”

“My point is,” Melissa jabbed me in the ribs, “you’ve got a lot of tenacity when it suits you. But when it doesn’t, you let things fall through the cracks. “

I gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you comparing Anna to an ’85 Chevy?”

“No. I just want you to get your priorities straight. And it’s not just about Anna. Willow’s not your girlfriend. She’s not your aunt or your cousin. She’s your daughter.”

I sat up, my fatigue all but erased by the indignation stiffening my spine. “Are you saying I don’t take care of my family?”

Melissa’s gaze followed mine as I glanced over the expensive furniture and top of the line electronics I’d purchased.

“You’re a generous man,” she conceded. “But Willow doesn’t need any grand gestures. She needs you. Remember that.”

Signaling an end to the discussion, Melissa laid her head on my shoulder and flipped to a re-run of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. We used to watch the series religiously when I was a kid. Or rather, Melissa watched while I fantasized about Sarah Michelle Gellar, the only good thing about the show, in my opinion.

Still, I’d sat through every episode more than once because Melissa enjoyed it.

Thinking back over the last four years, I tried to remember the last time I did anything to suit anyone but myself.

My needs. My time. My terms.

Sadly, my actions proved I was still that guy, looking out for myself and rolling over anyone who got in my way.

Including Anna.

My Anna.

I chased her away. And now I had to face reality—my daughter didn’t make me a better man.

I had to do that for myself.