“Yes, Evan and Beau were in the delivery room with me, though Beau’s five SEAL buddies were waiting outside until she was born. They declared themselves her uncles before she was even born.” Blaire’s face settled into a gentle smile at the memories.

All of a sudden, it hit me… I had been so thrilled since the first moment I realized that sweet little girl was mine, but now the reality was setting in. The loss of five years with my daughter. I had been anxious and excited to hear every little thing about Carrie, but, in truth, I should have been there to experience those things for myself, not have them recited to me like a freaking bedtime story. I would give my right fucking arm to be able to go back in time and be there in the delivery room, not only for Carrie, but for my Blaire. I should have been the one there kissing her beautiful sweaty face and holding her hand as our child came into this world.

I felt a deep, sharp ache in my chest like my heart was shattering into tiny shards. But it wasn’t just the ache; I was also angry as fuck. I stood and whirled around, glaring at Blaire. “So, there were seven men at my daughter’s birth? But I—her goddamn father—wasn’t there?”

Blaire seemed taken aback by my abrupt change in mood, her mouth dropping open as she stuttered, “I-I didn’t think you wanted to be. Y-you said…”

“I know damn well what I said, Blaire. Trust me, those words play through my brain like they’re on a loop every single fucking day.” I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and stared at the edge of my dark gray rug, trying to calm myself before bringing my gaze back to Blaire. “But you still should have told me. I had no idea you were having the baby. You should have told me. I didn’t get so much as a fucking birth announcement. And she was my child!”

I had never felt like this before… pain and fury swirling together until I couldn’t tell one from the other. I wanted to weep and scream at the same time. Blaire said something to me, but I couldn’t hear the words because of the maelstrom inside my head. I felt something warm on my cheeks and realized I was crying. Roughly sweeping the tears away with the heels of my hands, I asked her to repeat herself.

She looked up at me with those big, expressive, green eyes filled with her own tears, and I could see that this hurt her as much as it did me. I’d left her pregnant and alone, having to depend on other men instead of the one that should have been by her side, taking care of her and our child.

Me. It should have been me there.