Silence was like the rolling boom of thunder as we drove. Aside from the occasional clipped “left here”, “turn right”, no words were exchanged. The atmosphere between us was tense.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the almost kiss. Was it a good thing? Was I ready?

But ready for what? Bella had been my life. My everything. My soul mate. How could I ever be ready to be with someone else when if she were still here, we’d be together?

But she wasn’t here.

And Everly was.

Everly was quiet. Of course, Piper was not, and she alternated between screaming and cooing along to the songs. It seemed she had a thing for The Eagles. Whenever they came on, her tone noticeably softened, and I found myself humming along to the familiar tunes. Take it easy. A life message I needed right now. The sound of my own wheels were definitely driving me crazy.

“Do you think her mother listened to this song when she was pregnant?” Everly finally broke the standoff between us.

I shot her a quick smile, appreciative. One of us had to talk first. “Perhaps.” I slowed as the car neared a set of lights. “Although to be honest, Giselle doesn’t really strike me as a fan of the classics.”

“What about this car?” She tapped at the dash. “You said it was hers, right?”

I snorted. “I guess classic would be one word you could use to describe this old thing. Cheap might be another.”

As soon as I said the word, I felt bad. Lord knew why. I was sure Giselle wouldn’t stand up for me if the situation were reversed.

“Go easy on her.” Everly seemed to read my mind.

“I know, I shouldn’t have said that. It must be hard, being without …” I glanced at Piper in the rear-view. The mirror above her seat reflected a baby shaking her head in time to the music. “She’s so beautiful.”

And she was. How I felt about this child grew and grew with each passing second.

“That.” Everly snapped her fingers, and I turned to her while we were stopped in traffic. “That right there. It’s what I never saw from Bentley.”

“Saw what?” I frowned. “The ability to stop at a set of lights while holding a conversation?”

“No.” She softly punched my arm. “That look of complete adoration and love you have going on. You adore Piper. You care for her so much. I can see it in”—she circled her finger around my face—“in that.”

Once again, Everly left me feeling as if the sun had shone inside of my body, warming every piece of me up.

“And turn right here.” She pointed to an upcoming street sign.

I tensed. Was she …? “You’re not taking us where I think you are, are you?”

She let loose a long breath. “Well, I’ve been—”

“Everly!” I tapped the steering wheel, but I didn’t use my full force. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realised we were headed here earlier. Granted we had come in from a different direction, thanks to my devious navigator, but still. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You haven’t been back yet, have you?”

I shook my head once, quick. How did she know?

“I thought it might have been too hard with Piper, but you have to go back and see him. Didn’t you say you were worried this was why he relapsed in the first place?”

“Yes, but—” I bit my tongue. But what? I didn’t want to take Piper? Everly being there with me had resolved that problem. I wanted more time to prepare? How much longer did my old man have?

I turned the car into the drive, gravel crunching under the tyres. “Everly, you can’t just ambush me like this. A little notice, some time to prepare—”

“And you might have chickened out. I’m not going to force you to walk through those doors—but I am going to be here to walk beside you.” There was fire in her voice. “I will hold Piper’s hand, so help me, God, I’ll hold your hand if you need it, but if you don’t go back now, you’re going to regret this for the rest of your life.”

Regret.

It was something that played on my mind so much already.

I regretted going to the café that day. I regretted pushing to eat when we weren’t even supposed to be there.

I didn’t want to add to that list.

I didn’t want to add to it ever again.

“Okay.” I nodded, unclicking my seatbelt and opening the door. “Okay.”

We got out of the car, and I put Piper in her pram. My shoulders tensed, and every step I took was short. Clipped. To the point. Get in and get out. Shield your emotions.

That way, no one would get hurt.

That would never be true.

I hurt every moment I’m here.

I power-walked through the entry doors, stopping at the front desk to sign in.

“Why hello there, Cameron. I see you’ve brought some special visitors today.” The receptionist’s eyes twinkled. Christ.

“Hi.” I scribbled our names on the roster as quickly as I could.

“It’s a nice day out there, isn’t it?” she chattered on. “Do you three have plans after this? I can recommend the fish-and-chip shop down on the beach. Just opened, and their salt-and-pepper squid is to. Die. For.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I muttered, turning to charge down the hall.

“Thanks so much, Janet. It was nice of you to tell us about that,” Everly, all sweetness and light, said, then followed me, pushing the pram. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

“I’m being a jerk, aren’t I?” I stopped outside Dad’s room, awaiting the judgment I knew was coming.

“Yep. But I get it.” She linked her fingers through mine, and I felt her support in every fibre of my being. “It’s hard for you to be here, so you try and arsehole everyone away.”

“I do. But … it’s no excuse.” My chest shuddered as I breathed out. “I can’t keep using that as a reason to be a jerk. To close off …”

“To close off your heart.” She squeezed my hand. “I know. But we’re working on it. We’re working on getting your heart back.”

Getting my heart back. That sounded so good. How did I get so lucky as to have her here with me?

“I’m going in.” I paused, looking at the two of them. “Will you …?”

“You want us to go hang out somewhere for a while?” Everly asked.

Piper smiled, only it was more like a grimace. I read something the other day about twelve-month molars. How they could start to cause pain and irritation around the eight-to-nine-month mark. Maybe her teeth were bothering her today.

I want to stop pretending. I wanted my dad to meet his granddaughter. I wanted him to see her, and I wanted to tell him about the teeth thing, get his take on it. I wanted Piper to meet my old man and know that there were more people in this world who would love her. More people to call her family.

“No. I don’t want to go in alone.” I placed one hand on the doorknob. “Let’s do this as a team.”

If Everly was surprised, she didn’t say so. She simply followed me into the room, pushing the pram and parking it in the corner.

Dad lay still. His eyes were shut, his mouth slightly parted, and even in sleep he seemed tired, purple shadows under his eyes, the lines around his mouth deeper than they were before.

“Hey Dad.” I sunk into a chair next to the bed as Everly unclipped the buckles in the pram and let Piper out. “How you doing?”

His eyes crept open. For one moment, one short moment, I prayed. I prayed that this was the time he remembered me. That this was the time he was here, in the present, not on a loop somewhere in the past.

“Wh … who are you?”

“Your son.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I’ve come to visit, and I’ve brought my daughter. Piper.”

“Your …” He frowned, grey eyes tracking over the room until they rested on the little girl crawling toward his bed. She pulled herself up on my leg, and her tiny arms reached high above her head as she asked to be lifted. Dad didn’t take his eyes off her. A smile twitched at his lips. “Your Piper.”

“My Piper.” I placed her on my knee. She looked toward Dad, almost as enamoured with him as he seemed to be with her.

His hand shook as he reached out to touch her. He smiled. “She’s … okay, I guess.”

I laughed. Okay. It was such a Dad way to describe her, and it made something inside me warm. Because perhaps if he could use words like “okay” to describe this baby girl, there was a part of him inside that was still him. Still the father I loved.

He gave a small shake of his head, as if trying to clear the fog from it, then looked at me, his shaggy brows drawn into a deep frown. “Now, I’m here to meet my family, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Dad …” I sighed. God, this doesn’t hurt any less, no matter how many times I say it. “Dad, you’re not at the café anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” He pushed up onto his elbows. Piper wriggled a little closer to my chest. “Are you trying to pull one over me, boy?”

“No, Dad. You’re in a hospital, in Magenta. You’ve been here since—”

“Don’t tell me where I am,” Dad yelled. Piper squawked.

I pulled her closer still. “Dad, keep your voice down.”

“Stop calling me that, and—”

“Hi. I’m Everly.”

Christ.

Everly. I’d forgotten she was here.

I took a deep breath. I’d tried so hard to keep my cool, but when he yelled, it was hard not to raise your voice back.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you …?” Everly walked to the other side of the bed and held her hand out for Dad to shake.

His eyes were wide.

It was as if he were entranced. He sunk into his pillow, his fists unclenching, and a small smile crossed his lips. “Everly. What a beautiful name.”

I gave an internal fist pump. Yeah, it is, Dad. It is.

“I’m Donald. Donald Lewis.” He took her hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“How are you feeling today, Donald?” Her voice was so soft and gentle. So patient. She was great with him.

“I’m … I’m okay, thank you. A little sore in the leg.”

Everly didn’t say a word. Neither of us looked at the place where those limbs should have been.

“I’m havin’ you on, dear girl. I don’t have legs. See?” He roared with laughter, slapping the sheet beside him where his thigh should have continued.

I was shocked. He didn’t have … he knew? Had he always known? Was this new?

Everly laughed along with him, her voice so melodious compared to his gravelly caw. “You’re very funny, Mr Lewis.”

“I try. I try.” He winked. “And please. Call me Donald.”

“Okay … Donald,” she said. “What are you up to today?”

“I’m just trying to have a coffee and some lunch.” He shot me a look that was part resentment. Of course. He was back at the café again.

“Fabulous. I’m just going to order. Would you like me to get something for you too?” she asked.

What was she doing? We weren’t at a goddamn café. This was a recovery centre, and lunch wasn’t served for another hour and a half.

“I’d love that, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. What can I get?” She was all smiles, as if she wasn’t about to send my father on a downward spiral.

“Everly,” I warned, but she ignored me.

“I’ll have a tea, black with one sugar, please. And perhaps some of that banana bread,” he said.

“No problem. I’ll go get that for you, but can I ask you a quick favour first?”

Dad frowned. “Yes. Of course.”

“Can you please sit at the café next door? I’ll need this table in a second for someone else.”

Dad looked mystified, but he gave a sharp nod. “Right then, right you are. I’ll just head off.”

He shuffled in his bed, moving his body about without leaving his seat. Everly left the room and me with my mouth open. What was she doing?

“Excuse me,” I said to Dad, then hoisted Piper up in my arms and headed to the corridor where I closed the door softly behind me.

Everly stood there, looking up and down the hall.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting the man what he needs.” She shrugged, as if it were really that simple.

“What he needs is to be brought back to reality. To stop living that nightmare over and over again,” I protested. “This is how it starts. Then it gets worse and worse, until the bomb explodes in his mind. We have to try and get him out of this funk.”

“Or maybe, he needs us to experience it with him. Maybe he needs to be taken from the café so he doesn’t get hurt, but still kept in that reality. Maybe he needs someone to just believe in him.” She shrugged. “Either way, I could use a coffee. There’s no crime in getting him one, too.”

“What happened to honesty?” I pressed. “You said honesty mattered a lot to you. That you understood honest love. Doesn’t that mean telling Dad the truth? Doesn’t that mean being open with him and helping him connect to reality?”

A sad expression passed over her features. “Honest love does matter. But you’re missing the second word.” She stepped closer, tucking a strand of Piper’s hair behind her ear. “Honest love. For me, that means loving someone without any barriers. Without anything standing in your way or coming between you.” She gestured to the room door. “Your father has this horrific incident in his past, and his inability to move past it is coming between you. If you honestly love him, can’t you support him through it instead of fighting him every step of the way?”

“How dare you suggest I don’t love him?” Menace hung heavy in my tone. Piper whimpered, and I pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“How come you don’t give him a chance?” she asked with her arms out wide, as if my words had rolled off her back and onto the speckled linoleum floor. “I’m going to the common room.”

And with that, she walked down the hall, away from Piper and me, and not for the first time in the last few weeks, I felt everything. Anger, doubt, love, hate—they rolled around inside of me until I wanted to explode. I needed my goddamn punching bag.

I threw my head back, staring at the white fluro overhead. “For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.

“Fah,” Piper repeated.

My heart sunk.

Oh, shit.

That wasn’t good.

That wasn’t good at all.

“Faaaaaaar out,” I said, trying to cover my tracks.

Piper studied me with those big blue eyes, unamused.

Why were all the women in my life messing with me today?

I turned and headed back to Dad’s room.

His eyes were on the television, some daytime soap humming white noise. I sank down into the chair beside him.

“You’re back,” he sighed. “Well, I knew the peace around here couldn’t last forever.”

Dad never used to be that grumpy. He used to laugh, love, living fast and free.

That day stole that from him.

It stole all that and more.

But as I sat there, wondering how long we had until the bomb went off again, I couldn’t help but replay Everly’s words. What if she was right? Was telling him the truth helping him? Loving him? Or was it just being honest?

I made a note to ask his doctor. The nurses here all acted as if he needed to be brought back to reality, but perhaps there was no harm in doing something different. Everything we’d tried so far clearly wasn’t working.

“Tea is up.” The door opened, and a nurse ushered Everly in before closing it behind her. Everly walked a plastic brown tray over to the table by Dad’s bed, placing it down. “One black tea, one sugar.” She took it off the tray and placed it on the bedside table. “And they were all out of banana bread, so I got you a Snickers from the vending machine.”

“Hmph. Thanks.” Dad took the chocolate bar and worked on the plastic. “How much do I owe you?”

Everly took her mug of coffee and rested the tray against the wall, sitting on the chair opposite mine. “Consider it my shout. You can get the next one.”

Dad stopped. Looked at her. Narrowed his eyes. “Are you flirting with me, young lady?”

“No!” She laughed, the sound pure joy. “You bad thing.”

“Just checking.” He turned to me, a smile lighting his whole face. It was as if someone was holding the strings to all the lines that made him sad, that made him frown, and stretching them upwards. “You’re lucky to have this one, Cameron. She’s a keeper.”

My chest tightened.

My heart jumped to my throat.

Cameron.

He called me Cameron.