Mack took me to the house and helped me set up the portable crib I’d bought on the way there. Once I gently tucked Piper in, she seemed to fall into sleep like log, her little chest rising and falling with steady solemnity. The sea air must have been good for her.

The sea air sure was good for me.

As I took in a long inhale of the salty scent, Mack joined me on the balcony, a beer in hand. “Whose care is that?”

“Giselle’s. I had to leave mine in her garage. Couldn’t fit a baby seat in a two-seater.” I narrowed my eyes at the piece-of-shit mobile in the driveway. The air-con didn’t work, and the thing had rattled every mile on the freeway, as if it would fall apart.

“You? No Mustang?” Mack laughed. “That’s …”

“Don’t say it.” I rolled my eyes. “I can be an … Excel guy.” The word tasted nasty. “No, fuck it, I can’t. The car sucks. I hate it.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” Mack sighed.

We stood in silence for a while, the burning orange rays of the sun reaching out from behind a cloud as it floated to the horizon. How my life had changed.

“Who was the chick?” Mack asked, and my shoulders tightened.

“What chick?” I took a sip of water from the bottle I’d balanced on the rail.

“You know. The one down at the beach. All legs for days, sexy smile …” Mack ran a hand up in the air, showing the length of her pins. “She’s my type.”

“Pussy is your type.” I snorted.

“And yet you don’t see me falling for you,” Mack replied, and I rolled my eyes. “So who was she? And, better yet, did you find out if she was single?”

“I don’t know if she’s in a relationship, and it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested,” I growled.

“You know, you’re allowed to like her.” Mack held up his hands at my accusatory glare. “If you like her, of course. And I’m not saying you do. But if you did, it wouldn’t be like you were betraying anyone. It wouldn’t be like that at all.”

It wouldn’t? How could it be fair that I got some sort of free rein to invite people into my life when the woman I loved was ten feet under?

It wasn’t okay. No matter how sexy Everly was, how different she was—I couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

But maybe, maybe one day.

For the first time, the idea didn’t feel so foreign.

* * *

The scream pierced through the fog of sleep shrouding my mind. I shot up in bed, my heart hammering against my chest. Sweat was clammy against my body. Fear, wild and rabid, shocked me into consciousness. Bella. Please let Bella be okay.

The scream sounded again, only this time, it was followed by giggles. A series of giggles, like little bubbles of happiness, and my breathing slowed, my chest rising and falling as if I’d just run a marathon. The baby. Of course.

I peeled the sheets back, pulling on a pair of shorts, and walked into the spare room where I’d set up the port-a-cot. Just as I reached the door, a missile shot at me. The stuffed bear landed square on my stomach, bouncing off my abs and landing on the floor.

Piper laughed. She laughed as if it were the funniest thing that had ever happened.

And even though I was tired, even though this kid had pulled fears from me I thought I’d successfully buried, I smiled along with her. It was kinda cute.

“Ready to get up, huh?” I walked around the minefield of toys thrown around the room. Piper had evicted every stuffed animal I’d so carefully placed at the head of her bed the night before.

When I reached the crib, she looked up at me and smiled. She actually smiled. As if she were pleased to see me. As if I meant something to her. Good mornin’ to you too, little one.

I bent down and picked her up, and this time, no tears followed. Maybe I was getting the hang of this after all. I shifted so my arm slung around her behind.

Wet.

The kid was soaked.

“Okay, tiger,” I sighed, kneeling on the floor and pulling down the change mat from on top of the dresser drawers. “Let’s do this thing.”

I placed her little body on the mat. Last night, changing her had been easy. She’d lain there, complacent while I’d pulled one set of dirty diapers off and put a fresh pair on. I had been pleasantly surprised.

I unbuttoned the onesie around the legs, then pulled at the sticky diaper tabs revealing—oh, Lord. That stunk. That was some truly nasty shit.

“Girl, what have you been eating?” I muttered. Spaghetti Bolognese. I’d shared my takeaway dinner from the Italian down the road with her, and yep—there was an unprocessed piece of carrot. Sick clawed at my throat. Disgusting.

I removed the dirty nappy, then grabbed five wipes, wrapping them around my hand as if I was preparing for war. This was gonna be horrible. Lifting her legs, I moved in position to wipe—

And she wiggled.

The little demon wiggled.

Baby shit smeared across the change mat.

“Piper, no!” I grabbed at her arm, trying to keep her in one place. Damn it, lie still! Why wouldn’t she just lie still like a normal baby and let me change her?

She flipped. I reached for her other arm this time, trying to pull her back in place, but her little butt shifted under my arm and—bile soured my mouth. I jerked my arm away. Poop, brown and disgusting, was smeared across my skin.

In horror, I ran the wipes along my arm, but it only seemed to rub it in. The smell lingered. I needed a shower. With extra-strong soap.

As Piper crawled away, I swiped at her butt and got some of the mess off. A sense of hopelessness weighed down my limbs. How was I going to do this? How had this baby set the rules when I was an adult? When I was supposed to be in charge?

What have I gotten myself into?

Five minutes later, Piper was clean, dressed and ready to face the day. I gave her the bottle, as dictated by Giselle’s list, then prepared some porridge to the tune of her heartbreak as she sobbed at my feet, waiting impatiently for it to be ready.

Finally, I put her in her chair and shoved a spoonful in her mouth.

Silence.

Blessed, golden silence.

But her cries continued to play in my mind, a never-ending song on repeat.

Piper smacked her lips, then opened them wide, waiting for more food. I loaded up the spoon and fed her.

“Nice?” I grunted.

She opened her mouth wide again.

The crying echoed in my brain. Why wouldn’t it stop?

“Okay then.” I spooned more porridge in. Perhaps talking would quiet the noise in my mind. “I suppose you’re, uh, wondering who I am, right?” I loaded another spoon. “Well, according to Gis—your mum, I’m your dad. I think I am.” I paused, shaking my head. Could I really be a father and not have ever known about it? Would the world be so cruel?

Yes, it would. My baby was taken from me.

There is nothing the world wouldn’t do.

“Maybe you should call me Cam, not Dad. Dad sounds … like someone else. Like my father.” I tightened my mouth. Talking to Piper felt weird. Could she even understand?

“So, a little about me. Uh …” I loaded up another spoon, giving it to the child. What else was there to tell a baby? “I live about an hour from here. Newcastle. And I work as an electrician, fixing …” I scanned the room, then pointed at the bulb above my head. “Lights. Electricity.”

Piper followed my point, and I could swear that she smiled.

Then her frown was back. Her mouth opened, waiting.

“So, that’s what I do. But for the next three months, I’m gonna look after you. I know it’s been a bit of a slow start, but I’ll get the hang of this.”

I looked at Piper once more. My head throbbed. My eyes twitched every now and then, too little sleep, too much on my mind.

This was hard. There was no question about it.

But I wouldn’t let this little girl down.

“I’ll look after you. Don’t you worry about that. Until your mum gets out, and she can take care of you again. And I know it’s been a rough day—a rough few days, probably. And I know that I’m kinda a disappointment in the parent department, but I’m not gonna quit. I won’t give up.” My hand tightened around the spoon. “I won’t leave, kiddo. I promise you that. I’m not going anywhere.”

Piper leaned her head forward, her mouth open, her eyes focused on the spoon that was clearly taking too long to reach her mouth.

“So there you have it.” I gave her the final mouthful of her porridge. “That’s what I’m doing here. That’s the whole story.”

She smacked her lips with the last bite, and I lifted her from her chair to the floor. As I filled her bottle with water I pulled out my phone, scrolling through Facebook. A photo of Mack with his arm around a dark-haired woman at the Honeysuckle flashed into my feed, and I smirked. He must have had a good night after he left here. Some posts from people about politics, world peace, veganism—all the things people used Facebook as a voice for.

Then, something else flashed into my feed.

Something far, far worse.

You and Bella Rogers have been friends for ten years.

I swallowed, my throat tightening. Goosebumps rose on my arms, my hair on end, even though it was a balmy summer morning, even though I’d woken in a sweat.

Ten years. Ten long, happy, torturous years.

A mini movie started, photos of the two of us flashing across the screen. Bella and me after my initiation into the army. At her university graduation, her wearing that black hat and cape. In front of the Mustang when I first bought it. At her friends’ wedding. With me down on one knee in front of the Grand Canyon on our big USA trip.

But they weren’t the photos I searched for. I looked for all the ones in between. Bella and me laughing. Holding. Holding each other, and holding each other together. Smiling. Kissing. Looking, looking at each other as if no one else existed. Looking at each other as if no one else ever would.

My chest swelled, and I pressed my eyes shut. Fuck the world. Fuck it for taking her from me.

“Gagagagagagagagaaaaaaaa.” The voice was guttural, low. Warmth on my leg. The touch of skin to skin.

I opened my eyes, my lids heavy. Piper smiled at me from her place on the floor, her miniscule hand on my knee, then broke into a burst of nonsensical rambling again, gagagagaga and nananana, over and over on repeat.

And I didn’t know why. I had no idea how, but her being there, just looking at me—needing me?

It made me feel better.

After almost two long years of nothing easing the ache, this did.

And a small, infinitesimal piece of the shattered glass of my heart shifted back into place.