“And whose fault is that?” I demand. “I never had the chance to be a father because you stole thatfrom me. Did you know you were pregnant when you left?”
The word lashes out like a bullwhip. She wants it to hurt me.
I already knew that answer. But her confirmation still feels like ice water down my back.
“You knew and yet you left anyway.”
“If I’d told you, you would never have let me just leave,” she points out.
“Yes, I would have,” I refute. “But I’d have kept my kid.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You’d have asked me to leave my child?”
“Is it that big of a stretch for you to imagine?” I ask. “You already left her.”
“But I was always going to come back for her,” Sonya tells me. “And here I am.”
I stare at her, letting those words sink in for a moment.
“So thi
