Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1) (26 page)

Her eyes soften, but her resolve stays firm. “Herb,” she says slowly, eyeing me with sincerity, “made victims out of you, your mom, and Edward.”

I flinch when I hear my real dad’s name slip out of her mouth.

“You’re the only one who’s no longer a victim. You said you wanted to move forward, and I think talking to your mom and offering to help her is a good step.” She hesitates, caressing my face with her thumbs. “So is talking to your dad.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” I search her face for signs of disappointment, but I’m only met with her unwavering love and understanding.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Just think about it.”

It’s not really a request, so I don’t bother answering. Instead, I pull her to me and hug her with the sun hitting our backs and Nisa sniffing the flowers Olivia and I planted. A gentle breeze swims around us, and I sway our bodies to nature’s rhythm. We stay that way until Olivia comes outside and starts running circles around us with Nisa on her heel.

My lips linger a few inches from Yanelys’s ear, and I whisper, “Are you ready to tell Livvy?”

“Do you want me to stay, or do you want to tell her yourself?”

“Stay.”

Fear festers inside my heart, making my hands tremble. I clasp them together, and my heart stammers, struggling to beat, when Yanelys takes my hands in her cool small ones and squeezes.

“She already loves you,” she reminds me.

I swallow past the ball forming in my throat.

“Livvy,” she calls out, squeezing my hand again as my wild eyes meet her calm ones.

The need to run resurfaces, but I push past it, and instead, I focus my attention on my daughter skipping toward us with her dog faithfully by her side. I bend down and pet Nisa on her blocky head, and when she licks my hand, I wipe it on my filthy jeans.

“You wiped off Nisa’s kiss,” Olivia accuses, her lips pressing together into a thin line.

“Oh,” I manage to get the single word out, but it sounded rough, so I lean down and kiss Nisa on her head.

When I stand back up, Yanelys’s bright eyes meet mine, laughing at me. I bite back a smile and rub my face with my still dirty hands.

“Now, you have dirt all over your face.” Olivia points out the streaks on my cheek.

“Okay, little Miss Smarty-Pants,” Yanelys says. Taking Olivia’s and my hands, she guides us to her patio furniture. “Cam and I want to talk to you for a minute. I want you to listen to us, okay? You can ask all the questions you want after we finish, but listen first. And”—she pulls Olivia to her lap and kisses the side of her face—“remember how much we love you. Can you do that?”

Olivia nods, uncertainty tracing every feature on her face.

I hesitate, looking to Yanelys for guidance.

“A long time ago, you asked me who your dad was and where he went,” she begins.

Her words resonate in the cool air as my past hangs over us and slams its fist into my gut.

“And I told you he had to go away but that he loved you very much. Do you remember that?” Yanelys asks, her voice calm, affectionate, and reassuring.

Olivia nods.

“When your dad left, he didn’t know I was pregnant with you—”

“He made a mistake,” I cut off whatever else Yanelys was going to say.

Two pairs of eyes look back at me.

“He was a scared boy, and he thought leaving your mom and grandparents was the right thing to do, but he also left because he was afraid. He mostly left because he was afraid.” My throat bobs, the saliva thickening, as I continue to speak, “He had bad parents, the kind who hurt him a lot growing up. The only good he had in his life was your mom, Ita, and Tito. It was a dumb decision, but he got scared one day and left them. He never called, wrote them letters, or anything. He didn’t know you existed. He would’ve come home sooner if he had because—your mom’s right—he loves you very much. I’m not trying to make excuses, Livvy. I’m just telling you what happened so that you understand. It’s okay if you’re angry with him, but I promise you, he’ll make it up to you.”

“Is my dad back?” Olivia asks, caution seeping from her sweet voice.

“Yeah.” I let out a small breath of air. “And I’m not going anywhere ever again. You and your mom? You’re it for me. You’re my girls, my whole life. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you what you mean to me,” I press on, the ache in my chest growing with every admission, leaving me breathless.

Olivia crawls out of Yanelys’s lap and takes a step toward where I’m sitting, so she’s standing in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest.

“You’re my dad?” Her brows draw together in question.

“Yes.” My heart derails as her eyes trace over my face, and I wait for her to hate me.

She sucks in her bottom lip and nods her head. “You’re not leaving again?” Her voice quakes.

I reach for her, pulling her small body onto my lap, and I hug her to me.

“Never.” I press a kiss to her temple and then pull her away, so she can see the honesty behind my words. “It’s okay if you’re angry with me, Livvy. Just give me a chance to make things right and be your dad.”

Delicate small hands touch my clean-shaven face before she wraps her arms around my neck. “My heart loves you too much to be mad at you.”

With my daughter in my arms, my body begins to shake as tears of remorse and relief skate down my cheeks and into her dark brown hair. Yanelys’s arms go around both of us, her faith coursing through me as I finally become a part of my family.

Seconds turn into minutes, but I hold my girls, my life source. When Olivia begins to squirm, I reluctantly let her go and am met with her curious dark eyes.

“Mom said I could ask you anything.” Her lips twitch, the sides lifting, as she waits for my response.

“Anything,” I repeat.

“Since you’re my dad, will you let me have soda at dinner?”

Laughter rings in my ears, and I join Yanelys in our shared joy as I shake my head at Olivia’s question.

“I won’t be overriding your mom,” I tell her when I can finally speak. “But maybe we can come to a compromise.”

“What sort of compromise?” Yanelys asks, her brows shooting up.

“I vote for a movie night every Friday. We can have pizza, soda, popcorn—”

“And chocolate!” Olivia interrupts, bouncing on her heels.

“And chocolate.”

We turn our heads and wait for Yanelys to make the executive decision, and then we whoop in the air when she agrees. Olivia’s smile stretches across her face, and she hugs my neck one final time before she runs to her bedroom to play, Nisa following close behind her.

Love overflows in my veins, making the moment feel surreal.

I wasn’t there when Olivia was born. I wasn’t there for any of her firsts. Hell, I wasn’t even the first man she loved, Santiago rightfully taking that place in her heart.

But I am her dad, and our bond…our bond is real, our souls tied together. I have a commitment to her, and from sunrise to sunset, I’ll keep my word and never for a second waver. The depth of my love for her is endless, and as long as I’m alive, she’ll know it.

THIRTY-SIX

YANELYS

The road spans out in front of me as I beat my feet down into the hard pavement. My blood pumps harder, faster, stronger, and my chest heaves with every purposeful step. With my earphones blaring, I continue to jog, my body slicing through the air, as the breeze whips around my face. Thoughts of Camden cascade in my mind, unfurling and settling in my heart.

His courage, his unwillingness to give up, his love for his daughter, so effortless and true.

The horizon blazes with the rising sun, and while everything in my neighborhood still looks the same, everything is different. I’m different.

I keep a steady pace and focus on my breathing as I round the corner and see Camden waiting for me in front of our house. With his shoulders straight and his head unbowed, I see the man he has always been meant to be.

I breathe in a lungful of the morning air when I greet him and bend over, placing my hands on my knees. Sweat coats my skin, and Camden traces a light finger over it, igniting the flames I carry for him. Our eyes meet, and when I stand back up, he takes my face in his hands and kisses my lips, taking his time as his tongue prods and pulls from me.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Sweaty and disgusting is more like it,” I counter.

He chuckles, his breath falling on my skin when he draws closer to me and licks my lips.

“Beautiful and tasty.” He smirks.

“Did you come out here just to taste and taunt me?” I raise my eyebrows in question.

He laughs again but takes a step back, his body tensing. “I’ve been thinking”—he brushes his hands over his face and laughs nervously—“maybe you’re right.” He stops, his eyes meeting mine.

“Of course I’m right,” I acknowledge, taking Camden’s hand in mine and leading us back indoors. “What am I right about?”

His body relaxes with my easy banter. He follows me to the kitchen and prepares a glass of water for me when I sit at the bar.

He waits for me to finish drinking, and when I put the water down, he answers, “I’m going to meet Edward.” His voice breaks, making my heart squeeze in my chest. “I looked him up online while you were jogging, and he’s still at the same address my da—Herb gave me.”

“Oh,” I breathe out the word, letting it hang in the air, as I search Camden’s face.

His eyes fill with unrestrained emotions, but he keeps them at bay, so I do the same with the emotions twisting inside me.

“When?”

“Today.” His hands comb through his hair.

“Okay.”

“Come with me?” he asks, his voice calm, while his eyes plead with me.

“Of course. I can take Livvy to school this morning and call in sick at work. I’ll also ask my parents to pick Livvy up from school and take her to their place, so we can go whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.” His throat bobs when he swallows.

“I’m proud of you, Cam,” I say, keeping my eyes trained on his. “I just wanted you to know that.”

He nods once as an awkward silence hangs between us. I smile to lighten the mood, but Camden looks away.

“I’m going to make breakfast while you shower.”

“No chocolate chip pancakes,” I tease.

His eyes lighten. “Don’t worry, Mom.” He smiles. “I told Livvy I was making strawberry waffles.”

In the shower, I take my time, so Camden and Olivia can spend some time together without me. Knowing Camden can use some of Olivia’s lightness, I don’t bother worrying about whether she’ll make it to school on time. School can wait.

Camden…Camden needs her.

It took two days for him to come to terms with the fact that he should meet his biological dad, and during those days, I’d felt his apprehension grow as he mulled it over. Fear had gripped my throat. Fear that he’d leave or that he’d give in to his addiction.

But Olivia would waltz into whatever room he had been brooding in and wash away his pain so smoothly that it was as if the pain never existed. And I pray, one day, the pain no longer exists. That it becomes a memory so distant that he no longer feels it.

After I finish in the bathroom, I call my parents and then work to let them know I won’t be going in today. A part of my heart grows sad, knowing someday in the future I’ll no longer be working there. In the five years I’ve spent at the animal shelter, it has become my second home, and leaving my friends and the dogs and cats that would undoubtedly spend their lives in that shelter hurts me profoundly.

But I want to start my new adventure with Camden. I love his idea of opening a center for foster kids, and I am delighted that he liked my idea of incorporating rescue dogs into his program.

Our program.
I smile.
Our center. Our kids.

I braid my hair as I walk to the kitchen, stopping just outside the room for a moment so that I can listen to Camden and Olivia. Camden’s laughter fills the open spaces of the house, vibrating off the walls and crashing into my soul.

Feeling better, I step into the kitchen. The smell of freshly made waffles makes my stomach do happy flips, so I take two from the pile Camden’s building by the stove and sit next to Olivia. I eye her as she gets the butter knife and starts to put globs of butter on my waffles. My lips twitch as she tries to spread it but ends up tearing the tender pieces apart.

“You’re a good helper,” I say, proud that she wants to help.

She looks back at me with pride brimming from her eyes, and my lips brush over her hair as I place a kiss on the back of her head.

“They’re really good, Mom. Wait till you try them.” She bounces on her chair in excitement. “I think maybe Cam should be the one who cooks from now on.”

I smirk, all too happy to hand over the cooking duties to Camden. “No complaints from me.”

“Except for pizza. You make the best pizzas in the world!” she says.

“The rest is on me, huh?” Camden’s eyes shine back at us, his lips turning into a beautiful smile.

“Looks like it,” I agree, craning my neck around, seeing the mountain of waffles grow. “There are enough waffles to last us all week. Come eat with us.”

Rather than wait for his reply, I take Olivia’s and my plates to the dining room table while Olivia takes her glass of milk. Camden follows behind us with two mugs of coffee. He hands one to me, and I breathe in the sweet aroma of morning bliss.

“You’re not eating?” I ask.

“I’m stealing from your plate.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to just let you eat my waffles?”

“Yeah.” He smirks.

“Wrong,” I reply, pushing the plate toward him after I cut a few pieces.

When the door opens and I hear my dad’s voice booming through the house, I stand up, leaving Camden more than half of the waffles and strawberries to finish.

“Eat,” I order before I greet my parents.

“Yeah, eat,” Olivia repeats.

I shake my head when I hear Camden reply with a, “Yes, ma’am.”

That’s my family. Camden and Olivia. And my parents.

We talk with them for a short while before my parents leave to drop Olivia off at school. Just as I walk my mom and Olivia to the car, I catch my dad talking to Camden. Camden nods his head several times and holds on to my dad when my dad hugs him.