Kitty French - Knight and Day

But it was a big deal. A big, huge deal. It was the gift of precious breathing space, of time to get a handle on the enormity of what had happened to him, to get to know his baby, to grieve for the love he’d lost.

Billy was the most effective distraction imaginable when he was awake, but when he slept, Kara came. She came to Dylan in his daydreams and in the snatches of sleep he managed at night, sometimes smiling, sometimes furious, and beautiful all the time. His whole body ached with missing her, as if he’d been trampled by wild horses.

The only time of day when he could find any solace at all came at sunset. Most nights, Billy’s fledgling routine allowed for him to be fed, winded and bathed by then, and they’d developed a habit of sitting up on deck, one man and his baby, to watch the horizon darken.

Billy seemed able to sleep easiest held skin to skin, his tiny chest against his daddy’s, his blanket tucked around him until just his small round face and wild-child hair poked out above. Dylan often found his own eyes closing too, drifting into a doze along with his son.

It was there, in that exact position, that Kara found him, two weeks and two days almost to the hour after she’d left.

It was the way he cradled the damn baby that made her cry. All of that big, powerful strength rendered gentle and tender by the presence of the infant in his arms. How could a man who held a baby with such infinite care be the same man who’d broken her heart?

Kara wiped her fingertips over her damp cheeks, glad that Dylan was sleeping. He didn’t deserve to see her tears.

She wavered, uncertain, considered walking away. She’d come here in anger, with an outraged sense of unfinished business, fury that he’d left her feeling a million times worse than Richard had. If she let it go by the wayside without ever setting the record straight, she feared that she’d never trust her own instincts again. Her self respect was a cause worth fighting for. But now he was here in front of her, she realised she’d come for something else too. She’d come to be near him one last time: her traitorous heart hadn’t yet completely cast him out and the knowledge of this scared her witless. If he opened his eyes now and lied some more, would she believe him? Her faith in herself was on the floor because of Dylan Day.

Then he opened his eyes.

“English.” He spoke on the softest of intakes of breath as he looked at her, and the expression in his eyes confirmed Kara’s fears. She was in trouble, because she could see him going through the same overwhelming emotions that she’d experienced herself a few minutes earlier. She saw it all play out on his face: incredulous surprise, the bright, against-all-odds flare of hope, and then the bitter, crushing weight of disappointment.

Kara didn’t speak because she found herself out of suitable words.

He glanced down at the sleeping baby, and then back up at her.

“I’ll go and put him in bed,” he said, getting up carefully. He turned back before he disappeared inside, uncertainty on his face. “I’ll be a couple of minutes…please don’t go.”

And there it was again, that hot ball of tears burning her throat. She didn’t answer him, just turned away and sat down in the low deck chair he’d vacated. The heat from his body warmed hers.

Yes. She’d wait.

Below deck, Dylan laid the baby down in the makeshift cradle he’d fashioned himself over the last couple of days. He could have bought one, but the idea of a shopping trip with a baby in tow terrified him, and besides, he'd needed to keep his mind busy during Billy's naptimes. It’d never grace the pages of a design magazine, but it was good enough, and that needed to be enough, for now at least.

Kara was here. He’d worked hard on resigning himself to the fact that he’d never see her again, but she was actually here, right now, here on his deck, cowboy boots and all, and he had no idea how the hell to play it.

He unfolded a second chair on deck a few minutes later and sat down alongside her. The answer was simple. He would play it straight. He owed her that at the very least.

“Why are you here, Kara?”

His question held no trace of confrontation, more a resigned sense of defeat.

“To hear the truth from you, I guess.” Kara shook her head, her eyes on the horizon. “I need to know why. Was it all a big game for you?”

“Kara, no…”

“I wake up every day and wonder how I could have been such a monumental fool. I thought I knew better, but it feels like I’m the girl who never learns her lessons. My father. Richard. You. Is there something about me that marks me out as a pushover, Dylan? Something pathetic, needy?”

Deep frown lines creased his brow.

“I lied, Kara. I lied and you believed me, which makes you a good, trusting person, which is a fucking miracle given the number of people who’ve let you down. That I’m the latest name on that damn list kills me.”

“I hear you’re planning to disappear,” she said tonelessly. She’d come here to reclaim her self-respect, even if it meant stripping him of his. “That makes you a man who lies and then runs from his problems. Not exactly daddy of the year material. I should know, I grew up with a father like that, remember?” Anger made her harsh, and she twisted to look him directly in the eyes. “I don’t envy your child.”

It was a lie. She did. She envied the baby that he’d get to spend every day with Dylan.

But every one of her words hit their target, and he took her arrows because she had every right in the world to hate him.

“Can I tell you the truth?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s funny, coming from you,” she said. “You mean the sob story about your evil ex-wife dumping your newborn baby on you? Don’t bother, I’ve had it all relayed second hand already.”

Dylan nodded. “I figured you would have heard.”

“So what else is there I need to know?”

He sighed heavily, his head leaned against the wooden sidebar of the seat as he looked at her. 
“I’ve apologised to you a million times over in my head, Kara. For not finding the right time to tell you all my fucked up, ugly truths, for not giving you the choice to walk away from me, for the fact that you had to find out in such a cruel, humiliating way.”

“You should have told me yourself,” she said quietly. “I’d have believed anything you told me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s not a pretty life back home, Kara.”

“You think I’m that shallow?” she said. “I’d rather have ugly truths than pretty lies.”

He nodded. “That’s the thing, Kara. The lies weren’t for your benefit. They were for mine. It was a fairytale. My fairytale. One where my brother hadn’t died, where I hadn’t married a woman I didn’t love, one where I didn’t lose everything I ever owned.” The fierce longing in his eyes held hers. “I needed a holiday from my real life, but I didn’t count on you. You were so much more than a holiday romance. You made me want to be Dylan Day forever.”

“I wanted you to be him too,” she whispered, her tears threatening again. She’d loved him so very, very much.

He looked at her, brittle and broken, and he knew that the moment had arrived, finally, to do the right thing by the woman he loved.

“Kara, I miss you every day. Every morning. Every night. All of the time.” He badly needed her to know how very much she meant to him.

“I know it doesn’t matter now, and I know you can’t come back to me, because it isn’t just me any more. It’s me and Billy. Billy and me. ” The river deep conviction in his voice made her envious of the baby for the second time that evening. “I’m a father, Kara. I have a son. I’ve been all kinds of stupid, but you’re wrong about one thing. I’m not going to be a bad father to Billy. Maybe I suck at it right now, but I’m learning. He stops crying when I hold him, so I figure I must be doing something right. And I’ll get better. I won’t lie to him, or let him down. I’ll do the best I can and hope like hell that it’s enough.”