Something was wrong.

I knew it as soon as I reached the lounge room.

Everly sat on the couch. She was wearing her T-shirt and shorts again, and her bra was stuffed in a ball beside her.

It was the expression on her face that was the problem.

She’d left her moans of ecstasy in the garage.

“What is it?” My chest felt leaden.

She regretted this.

She wished it’d never happened.

Even as I feared the worst, I knew it couldn’t be true. She’d flirted. She’d acted as if she wanted this for far longer than I had. She had to like me, or why did she stick with Piper, with Dad for as long as she had? Why stick with me?

Her arm shook as she held out my phone. Her skin, flushed with red just a few minutes ago, was as white as the stark light shining in from the garage.

“What …” I took it from her and draped the washcloth over the corner of the couch.

My app was open. She’d read my message.

My eyes focused on the screen.

I couldn’t breathe.

This. This was the goddamn worst thing that could have happened. It felt as if someone had a vice around my chest, and they were pulling it tighter with every second.

That new message wasn’t from Mack.

It was from Wayne.

And I wasn’t in my own Facebook account anymore.

Wayne: Look, Cameron, I know you’ve set up a fake profile for Giselle. I showed it to her when I visited, and she told me it must have been you. What kind of a freak does that? You’re like some crazy kind of stalker.

I stopped reading and looked at Everly. God, no. She knew I’d lied to her. She knew I …

“I’m sorry,” I croaked.

But she shook her head, as if I’d missed the point. “It’s not that.” Her voice was strange, as if it belonged to someone else. Someone watching this scene play out from far, far away.

What else could it be?

I turned back to the message, reading on.

Wayne: She also told me you been threatening for custody of that kid.

Giselle just needed someone with some cash to care for Piper.

It’s why she chose you.

Chose me? I didn’t understand. I looked at Everly, as if she had the answers, but she was still pale, still shaking. What the hell did this all mean?

I paused. I didn’t want to read anymore. Whatever Wayne had to say couldn’t be that important. Some dropkick ex of Giselle’s was nothing to me.

But that sick ball of dread that had started rolling when I left the bathroom was bigger now. It’d reached wrecking-ball proportions. It was that same feeling you got when you saw a fist flying toward your face. You knew it was going to hurt. You knew that soon, you were going to be in pain.

And yet I couldn’t look away.

I couldn’t goddamn turn my head.

With a sigh, I readied myself to read the last two lines. I’d fix things with Everly, no matter what this message said. It wouldn’t change the things that counted—Piper, and my plans for the future. Nothing Wayne said could ruin that.

I took a deep breath.

I read.

Wayne: You’ll never get custody, because you’re not the kid’s father.

I am.

Two simple words.

I am.

No. But Piper was mine. I loved her. I’d been caring for her, damn it. How could he be the father when we’d just built this world together?

I clutched the phone tighter, as if I could crush it in my grip. If only that would make the message go away. I loved Piper. She was mine. Wasn’t she?

Words from my meetings with Giselle rang in my ears. “That’s why I asked you, Cameron. Out of all the people I knew, you were the least likely to try take her from me.” She hadn’t meant that because of my obsession with the past. She’d meant it because I wouldn’t have a legal leg to stand on. “You can’t take her away from me.”

My stomach lurched. Bile rose in my throat. How—how could she?

How could I have gone from almost having it all to losing everything I loved in the matter of minutes? Who did that? Who manipulated so viciously?

It was as if the rug had been ripped out from under my feet, only the earth had gone too, and I was falling, falling into a pit of nothing.

“Are you okay?”

Everly.

But I didn’t have the energy to fight this right now. Not when the little girl I so cared about was slipping through my fingers.

“Just go.” I buried my head in my hands. “I’ll explain in the morning. I’ll—”

Warm arms wrapped around my waist. Her skin against mine. It was too much. I was going to fall apart, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Everly, please.” My voice cracked. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s okay. I know. I can’t imagine,” she said in a quiet melodious voice. “After everything you went through. You already lost one baby—to lose another like this …”

She understands. She’s still here, even though I—

My blood turned to ice. “Wh … what did you say?”

“That I can’t imagine how it must feel,” she whispered, pressing soft kisses on my skin.

“The other thing.” I pulled her arms from my waist, turning to face her. “Everly, what did you say?”

Colour drained from her face.

And in that moment, I knew that she knew. She’d made a big damn mistake, and I’d figured it out.

“You said I’ve already lost one baby.” I gritted the words out, trying to keep cool, calm, in control. “But I didn’t tell you about that. It didn’t make the news that Bella was pregnant when she died, and we hadn’t told anyone except my dad. What’s going on?”

“I …” She shook her head and took a step back. “I was going to tell you—”

“Tell me what?” I ground out between my teeth, advancing upon her. Anger fired through my blood, ravaging the space where sadness once lived. “How did you know? Were you spying on me? Did Giselle—”

“No! Cameron, just hear me out.” She retreated, her hands up in defence.

“When did you know my wife was pregnant?” I seethed.

“Right from the very beginning. I was the—I was a midwife at …” She sobbed, and I was a monster for making her feel that way, but right now, I didn’t give a flying fuck. Familiar. When I first saw her, I’d thought she looked familiar. Maybe that was because she did.

“Fuck!” I threw the phone at the wall. Everly jumped when it made impact. “Is that why you approached me? Why you came to me that day at the beach?”

She nodded, silent.

“Goddamn it!” I roared, my hands to the sides. “You’re just like the rest of them, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not, I—”

“Cameron Lewis, some broken man you’re out to save. Well, maybe I don’t want to be saved. Maybe I’m too screwed up to be put back together,” I yelled, and she shook her head, no.

“That’s not true. I’ve seen the real you. I’ve seen—”

“Get out.” I jerked my hand toward the door.

“Please, let me tell you everything. She wasn’t just a patient. Bella was—”

“Don’t you ever say her name to me again.” I raked my hands through my hair. Tears stung at the backs of my eyes. “You don’t get to speak about her to me. Not after I trusted you. Not after this.” I pointed to the garage, where we just made love. She betrayed me. Another pity fuck. Goddamn it. Never again.

“But I need to tell you the truth,” she begged. A lone tear travelled down her ivory cheek, and I hated the way my heart betrayed me. My heart itched to wipe that tear away, but my head told me she didn’t really care.

If she did, she wouldn’t have let things go so far. She wouldn’t have lied for so damn long. She would have told me her truth when I gave her a piece of my own, back at the care centre when Dad had that breakdown in front of her. My long confession about the attack—she would have already known. She pretended it was news. She pitied me.

A cry sounded from Piper’s room.

Piper.

It was a hit straight to the chest. I’d gone ten rounds with my worst nightmares, and they’d come out screaming victory.

I trudged toward the hall, toward Piper, whose cry had become a definite wail. Piper. My little—

No.

Not my anything.

Just Piper.

When I wrapped her in my arms holding her close to my chest, she settled. Her breathing evened out, and a soft little sigh escaped her lips. As if this was what she needed. As if she’d been waiting for me all along.

But she’s not mine. She’ll never be mine.

And I’d been a complete and utter fool for thinking that she was.

Slowly, I lowered her into her crib, taking out her stuffed unicorn and carrying it with me back into the living room. There was no sign of Everly. The only sign she’d ever been there was that goddamn washcloth.

And as the rain outside finally eased up, the storm inside me broke. I held that goddamn stuffed toy and I cried, I cried for everything I’d lost, and everything I’d never regain. The memories I fought so hard to hold on to swirled about in my head until it hurt, a physical pain that was so much worse than any wound I’d ever had. So much deeper than any scar.

I stayed like that until the sun came up, only the golden hues lied about the day ahead. It wouldn’t be sunshine. It would be rain, inescapable, torrential rain.

Three names ran on repeat through my mind.

Bella.

Everly.

Piper.

And in that moment, I knew Dad was out of touch even before the bomb. Because honest love was a nice idea, but it didn’t exist.

We weren’t in that café anymore.