A Missing Heart(44)

As she puts the gear in park and turns the ignition off, a nervous blush fills her cheeks. “Casper isn’t thrilled at the moment. We had plans—life plans, and Ever wasn’t part of them.”

“Did he say that?” I ask, feeling pissed already. That’s my daughter, and anyone, who doesn’t want her around should just go the f*ck away.

“No,” she says quickly “But I’ve been with this man for six years and…” And, you’re still engaged? “I know when he’s not happy about something.”

“I see.” Keeping my mouth shut. Best thing for both of us.

I follow Cameron into the hotel, then the elevator, and up to the top floor. As the doors open, my stomach sinks. I’m going to see my daughter, the little girl I never thought I would see again. Cameron stops in front of the hotel room door and turns to face me. “Act as normal as possible. She’s fragile. The only people she knew as her parents just died three weeks ago.”

“Cam,” I interrupt her before turning back toward the door. “Does the foster care know you have her?”

Cammy places her hand over her heart. “Of course. I contacted them right away. I have temporary permission from the state she was living in to sort things out and make a decision.”

“Make a decision?” I ask.

“On whether or not I will pursue re-adoption—take her into my custody.”

“What about me, Cam?” I ask, swallowing the knot in my throat. I will not lose her again. No way.

“One thing at a time, okay?” she says softly.

I inhale all of the air surrounding me until the beat of my heart slows a touch. Waiting the long second for her to unlock the hotel room door, I’m not surprised when the open door reveals a large suite with ceiling-to-floor length windows that cover the entire far side of the room. The main area seems to open up into two other rooms, as well. Putting the greatness of the room aside, it takes me what seems like forever to scan the room before I set my eyes on a girl slouched into the couch with her arms crossed over her chest.

She sits up straight when Cammy addresses her. “Ever,” she says, gently. “Where is Casper?”

“Watching TV in the other room,” she says tersely, annoyed.

Cammy releases a sigh but shakes away her annoyance as she backs away to stand beside me. “Ever, this is AJ, your—”

“I was told I didn’t have a dad,” she says. If it wasn’t enough to hand this little girl over before she was an hour old, this stab to the heart feels almost as bad. All I wanted was for her to know she had a dad, one who loved her.

“Well, you do,” Cammy says, sternly.

Ever looks angry and upset, and I hope I’m not causing this. Though, by the looks of the way she’s dressed, she isn’t a happy, chipper person, in general. Feeling nervous, I walk over and sit down next to her on the couch. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” I tell her. “Today’s the big day, huh?”

“How do you know?” she asks with a small snarl.

“I would never forget. Plus, every year on your birthday, I buy a cupcake, light the candle, and make a wish for you.” I look up at Cammy while saying this, wondering if she has done anything every year on Ever’s birthday. Whether she has or not, I don’t know, but her hand is cupped over her mouth and tears are welling up in her eyes again. She turns and walks toward one of the adjacent rooms and closes the door behind her.

“You do that?” Ever asks me.

“Every year,” I tell her.

Looking at me for a long moment, I watch a range of emotions pass through her eyes. Then she leans back into the couch and utters, “That’s lame.”

“Maybe,” I snap back. “But I’ll do it for the rest of my life.”

“Whatever,” she says.

It’s not hard to tell Ever’s going through a lot of shit right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to sit here until I can get her to smile, even if it’s a tiny smile. I need to see her smile. She has jet-black hair, like me, and like Cameron said, my eyes. She has Cameron’s pouty lips and fair skin. Ever looks a lot younger than thirteen, but she’s dressed like she’s eighteen and miserable. With black leggings and a matching black shirt lined with some kind of silver studs, I’m having trouble imagining that those prim and proper people who adopted her allowed Ever to dress this way. She has dark red lipstick and thick eye makeup, nothing a thirteen-year-old should be wearing. And the piercings in her ears and nose are too much.

“Is your favorite color black?” I ask her.

“Obviously,” she snaps back.

“Do you like pizza? Because that’s my favorite food, and I was wondering if that was a genetic thing.”

“Who doesn’t like pizza?”

“Hunter, my brother—that weirdo doesn’t like pizza.”

In response, I get a raised brow and a spiteful smirk.

“What do you think about Connecticut?” I ask her.

“It’s boring.”

“I know, right?” I relax into the couch and put my foot up on the coffee table.

“Look, I get it. You’re making small talk so you can learn all about the daughter you never knew you had. It’s nice, really, but you don’t owe me anything, and you don’t need to make such an annoying effort to know me.”