Chapter Fourty Four

Jake

I should have been ready for this.

Hell, I should have expected it. Kids are blunt, they don’t tiptoe around the truth the way adults do. They say what they see, what they feel, without considering the weight of their words.

And yet, when Chanel looks up from her plate, sticky syrup shining on her chin, and asks if I’m going to stay forever, it’s like someone drives a fist straight into my chest.

Then Elias follows up, his eyes wide, so damn hopeful. “Is he gonna be our daddy now?”

The sound of that word, daddy nearly knocks the air out of me.

I freeze in place, hand gripping the back of the chair so tight my knuckles turn white. My throat closes, my heart hammering like it’s trying to punch its way out of my ribs. For a split second, I think I might actually break apart right there in front of them.

Because the truth?

I don’t know what I am to them.

I don’t know what I can be.

My eyes flick to Kyla. She is pale, her fork trembling in her hand, her lips pressed together so tightly it looks painful. She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look at me.

And I hate that.

I hate that I don’t have an answer either.

The silence is unbearable. Their question hangs in the air like smoke, filling my lungs, suffocating me.

I clear my throat, forcing a smile I don’t feel, and mutter something about finishing their pancakes. They accept it easily, too young to realize I’m dodging, too distracted by syrup and giggles to notice how my world just tilted on its axis.

But inside? I’m spiraling.

I move around the kitchen on autopilot, clearing plates, pouring juice, nodding at their chatter. But my mind is a storm, a mess of jagged thoughts tearing at me.

Daddy.

That word echoes again and again, brutal and unforgiving.

I never got to be one to them

I didn’t even know I was one until days ago. And now? Now I’m sitting at a breakfast table, cutting pancakes, listening to two kids laugh like I have been in their lives all along.

And they want me to stay.

They want me to be him.

The man they trust, the one they look up to, the one who never lets them down.

But how can I, when all I have ever done is let their mother down?

I glance at Kyla again, and the look on her face nearly wrecks me. She is trying to keep it together, but I see it the shimmer of unshed tears, the weight pressing on her shoulders, the way her chest rises and falls too quickly.

She is just as shaken as I am.

And the guilt that slams into me is unbearable.

Because she carried this alone. She raised them, loved them, gave them everything I didn’t. And now here I am, swooping in with pancakes and bedtime stories, and they already want to hand me a title I don’t deserve.

Daddy.

God, it tears me apart. I always wanted to he a dad, that's why I made sure to be there for Ethan, I didn't want my children to grow up like I did, with an absentee dad who didn't care. 

I excuse myself once the table quiets, claiming I need to get fresh air. I step out onto the porch, but the air isn’t fresh at all it’s heavy, suffocating. My hands tremble as I brace them on the railing, my breath coming hard and shallow.

I’m not sure if I want to punch something or collapse.

Because the truth is, a part of me wants to say yes.

Yes, I will stay.

Yes, I will be your father.

Yes, I will never leave again., I will always be here to tuck them in bed and make them smiley pancakes every morning. 

The way they looked at me, it burned right through me. Like I was someone worth keeping. Like I was someone they could trust.

And I have never felt that before.

But I also know the weight of those words. I know what that promise means. It’s not pancakes and laughter, it’s years. It’s responsibility. It’s sacrifice. It’s showing up even when it’s hard, even when you want to run.

And I don’t know if I’m capable of that.

Hell, I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I drag my hands over my face, trying to steady myself, but all I see are their faces. Elias’s wide grin. Chanel’s bright eyes. The hope that poured out of them so easily, as if it were nothing to ask me to be something so monumental.

And the worst part?

I want it.

I want it more than I have ever wanted anything in years.

But I don’t know how to deserve it.

I don’t know how to look Kyla in the eye and tell her I’m ready, when the truth is I’ve been lost for so long I don’t even know what ready looks like.

The porch creaks behind me, and I stiffen, half expecting Kyla. But when I glance back, it’s just Elias, peeking out the door, rubbing his eyes like he’s still tired.

“Jake?” he mumbles. “You coming back?”

My heart lurches.

I force my voice steady. “Yeah, buddy. I will be back in a minute.”

He nods, trusting me without hesitation, and disappears inside.

Trust.

That’s the thing. They already trust me. They don’t know my sins, my failures. They don’t know the years of silence, the choices that kept me from them. All they know is the man in front of them now the one who flips pancakes and listens to their stories.

And it terrifies me.

Because if they ever learn the rest? If Kyla ever decides to tell them the truth about me, about the past I’ll lose that trust in an instant.

I grip the railing tighter, my knuckles aching, and stare out at the horizon.

Their question still echoes in my head, relentless.

Are you going to stay with us forever? Are you going to be our daddy now?

And I realize I can’t run from it.

Whether I want it or not, whether I’m ready or not, the truth is simple.

I already am. Without her telling me the words I know I belong with them and they belong with me. 

But this was not that easy, there was so much complications between us.