Free Before I Break by Portia Moore Page A

never stopped to think she’s been doing this alone. Other than the one I had two days ago, I haven’t had a blackout in almost two years, which means he hasn’t been around. He missed everything too.
    I turn towards her . “You’ve been raising her alone?” I ask, and she rubs her palm against her thighs.
    “No. My aunt and friends have been there since the beginning to help me with her. She doesn’t lack anything,” she explains.
    “But a father,” I say quietly. If we share the same genes, God, she could have to deal with something like this . “She doesn’t do anything strange?” I ask, and she looks confused.
    “Like what?” she asks, a hint of sharpness in her voice.
    “In general?” I say hesitantly; she’s not getting what I’m hinting at.
    “Caylen isn’t strange!” her voice is definitely sharp now.
    “No, I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” I’m backtracking from insinuating her daughter...our daughter is crazy like good ol’ dad.
    “She’s been okay an entire year of her life without you making sure she was okay. I’ve made sure she’s okay!” This is going bad. I didn’t mean to insult how she’s raised her. Well, I don’t know how she’s raising her, actually.
    “I didn’t mean anything by it. I—I don’t know what I meant.” I stand up and offer her the picture; her angry demeanor changes.
    “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I’m—I’m just not used to this. All of this…it’s all—” She stutters nervously.
    “N o, it was my fault. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have asked such a stupid question.” I stop her and she gives me a small smile , her one dimple makes another appearance. I look back at the picture of Caylen. She looks like me, but she has her mom’s dimples and nose. It’s amazing how a little human being can look like a combination of two people. I don’t remember my biological mother or father so I’m not sure who I look like. I sit back down on the sofa, and a moment later, she’s beside me, the obligatory few inches between us.
    “She has your eyes. They turn like yours do.” Her voice is soft but now steady. Her eyes find mine, and for a moment, she’s smiling, a barely-there smile but still a smile.
    Stay with me.
    It’s like a whisper in my ear.
    The image of her from my dream the other night invades my thoughts. I shake it from my mind. I haven’t thought about it since, but it’s decided to announce itself right here, while she’s on the verge of crying, and I’m whining like a little boy. Get a grip, Chris .
    “I— I mean I…” She stutters, and her skin flushes a slight shade of pink. It causes me to smile. She really is beautiful… I turn my attention back to the picture in my hand. She’s still looking at me, and it’s scary because it makes me nervous, worried, and excited all at the same time. I don’t know her, but something about her evokes these emotions that I can’t deal with right now. They probably aren’t mine to deal with. The only thing that makes it feel like I’m not going to cave in is to talk, so I do.
    “How are we supposed to deal with this?” I ask quietly. Thankfully my voice doesn’t give away the energy flowing around inside me like a tornado.
    “I—I don’t know how to deal with this…” I say, wringing my hands together. I let out a sigh and stand.
    “You don’t know anything about me. I don’t know anything about you. And this Cal guy…” I cover my face. I need to run or hit something…these words are coming up and spilling out of me involuntarily, but the more I speak the more the energy is released so I continue.
    “I mean…I have a daughter I don’t even remember…” I laugh angrily, but I continue . “Years of my life! All of these things happened, and I don’t remember any of it. No one bothered to tell me. What am I supposed to do with this?” I’m pacing the room now, and I want to stop and sit down and ask her how she’s dealing