I stare at the address on the paper in my hand, and then up at the white, two-story house in front of me. My heart drops.

This can't be right.

I take in the surroundings of the white house. There's a house with light blue siding to the left and a brick house with a large porch to the right. My eyes are drawn to the brick home.

On its covered porch is a beautiful porch swing, made of wood and painted white. Around the property is a white picket fence, separating it from the white home in front of me and the other brick house to its right.

I feel like it's taunting me.

"Oh, you wanted a porch swing and a picket fence in your future?" it asks me, "Well how's this for your future? You're alone, searching for someone who clearly isn't here! Dumb bitch."

And I'm also getting verbally attacked by a house...

I roll my eyes at my own dramatics and move my gaze back to the white house that I came to this town to find.

It has a porch as well, but it's not nearly as grand as the porch attached to the neighbouring brick two-story. There's a red minivan in the driveway, and a tire swing hanging from a branch of large maple in the front yard. The mailbox, near the road where I'm standing, has "A+B & lil E O'Malley" written on its side, in faded and cracked, white paint.

My shoulders sag.

What a waste of time.

I'm about to turn away when the door opens. A brunette with a librarian bun on top of her head, and a denim sundress that hits her knees, walks out. The dress does nothing for the woman's figure. The way it hangs loosely off her body makes it impossible to tell if she's on the heavy side all over, or if she just has some really accentuated curves.

The homely outfit somehow makes me feel like a slut, even though I'm dressed in skinny jeans and a cropped t-shirt. And it's not even that cropped, only showing off a bit of the skin above the high waistband of my jeans.

The woman looks surprised when she sees me. "Can I help you?" she asks, glancing down the street like she's wondering where I came from.

"No," I answer, "but I wish you could."

"Maybe I can try?" she offers with a kind smile.

I shrug my shoulders. "There's no point." I turn to walk away and begin to aimlessly wander down the sidewalk.

Now what?

"Are you sure?" she calls after me. Her voice sounds closer, and when I turn around, I find her walking toward me.

"Positive, thanks..." I drift off and glance at the mailbox, then lamely add, "Mrs. O'Malley."

She looks almost startled, for just a second, and then her eyes move to the mailbox too, and a soft smile crosses her face. "April is fine."

"Okay..." I say. It's not like I'll ever talk to you again, lady.

I continue walking, and once again, April calls after me. "Do I know you?"

"No," I answer. This time, I don't bother to look back at her.

I hear an engine start, and a moment later, the red minivan drives past me. April waves to me from the window.

I lift a hand in a short wave of my own and then glare after the minivan as I watch it drive away.

I know it's not April's fault that Cal's not here, and she really was just being nice, but her kind heart and easy smile rubbed me the wrong way.

They aren't kidding when they say that misery loves company.

And I'm alone, and as miserable, as it gets.

----------

I drag my feet while I walk through the park. I can't believe I let myself get my hopes up. I should have known that the information I got from Ricky wasn't going to be of any use.

He didn't even sign his name on the letter. Why would he use a proper return address? Not to mention, Ricky received the letter over a year ago. He could be anywhere now.

I don't know what my next move is. I can't go back. I don't know how to move forward. I feel like I've been stuck in limbo since he left me; just waiting for him to reappear.

And then, I was finally told the truth.

Not that it does me any use now. It's been five years. He could literally be anywhere. And here I am, walking in circles at a park, with a backpack filled with only a few of my possessions, because my only lead for Cal's whereabouts was a total bust, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do next.

I probably look like a predator, with the way I'm wandering around a playground, but the grassy field and the trees in this area are calming. The change in scenery from the busy city may be the only benefit I get out of this trip, so I might as well soak it in. It's not like I have anywhere else to rush off to.

The threat of tears burns my eyes, but I won't let them fall. I've cried enough tears over him. I won't do it again.

I think I'm actually starting to lose my mind because the guy in the expensive suit walking toward me looks just like Cal. Except for, you know, the suit.

I keep my eyes forward as he passes, and then I hear it.

His voice.

"Emy?"

Great. Now I'm hearing things too. Maybe I shouldn't have snorted that last bump.

I keep walking, but then a hand wraps around my arm just above my elbow, pulling me to a stop.

I spin around and glare up to confront my assailant, and am met with the shining, dark blue eyes of Cal Jones.

"It's really you," he whispers.

"Cal!" His name comes out with a sob—so much for not shedding any more tears over him—and we both throw our arms around each other.

Soon, he's lifting me off the ground and stroking my hair. "Emy, Emy, fuck, I can't believe it's really you," he murmurs in a soft whisper close to my ear.

I lift my head from his shoulder and grab his face with my hands. "It's really me," I whisper back to him with a wide smile. I go in for the kiss I've been fantasizing about for weeks now, ever since I heard the truth.

The moment my lips graze his, Cal pulls his head back and abruptly places me back down on the ground.

"Emy, I—"

"Just kiss me, Cal! I know we have a lot to talk about, but it doesn't matter now. I've missed you so much. I need you to kiss me, and there's not a single reason in the world for us to—"

"I'm married."

"—wait." I stare at him in shock as his words sink in. "What?" There's no way I heard that right.

"Yah, I—" he stops and looks down to his side.

I follow his gaze to see a little blonde girl, maybe four years old, tugging on his suit jacket. She's dressed in a sparkling blue dress, fit for a princess.

She narrows her eyes at me, then tips her head back to look up at Cal. "Who is this, and why did she kiss you, Daddy?"

Daddy?!

"Emy! Emy!"

I look behind Cal when I hear a new, unfamiliar voice calling my name.

A burly man with a bushy beard approaches us. He eyes me carefully, as he lays a hand on the little girl's shoulder. He looks at Cal next, and a mixed expression of shock and worry settles over his features. "Sorry Cal, I tried to stop her, but she noticed you were still here and took off while I was still at the top of the slide."

He looks back at me and stares me down with a wary look in his eyes.

Why the hell was he saying my name? How does he know who I am? I've never seen him before.

... And did he just say he was at the top of the slide?

Cal glances at him and then looks back at me. He runs a hand over his daughter's—I can't believe I'm even thinking that word—hair. "This is dad's... friend," he explains, while looking at me with an almost sorrowful expression.

"Friends don't kiss," the little girl says, glaring at me like I'm the enemy.

Cal opens his mouth but then closes it again. He gives a short nod of his head. "You're right, they usually don't, but..." He drifts off and looks back to the bearded man with an expression that is begging for help.

"Your dad hasn't seen this friend in a long time," the man explains, coming to Cal's rescue, "She might be a little... confused."

Something inside of me snaps at the word "friend". I glare at Beard Guy and then at Cal. "That's one way to fucking put it," I mutter the words, without consideration of the young ears listening to our conversation.

Beard guy quickly moves his hands to cover the girl's ears, but not quickly enough.

Cal visibly cringes, as the girl smirks and points a finger at me.

"You said a bad word!" she accuses. She tips her head back to look up at Cal again. "She said 'fucking', Daddy, just like you used to say!"

"Emy," Beard Guy scolds, "You know you shouldn't say that."

What the actual fuck? Yah, I know I probably shouldn't swear in front of a kid, but who the hell does he think he is to scold me?

I open my mouth to tell him off, but the little girl beats me to it.

"I didn't say it, Daddy's friend did," she defends herself. She smirks at me again.

It slowly hits me why Beard Guy was calling my name earlier. He hadn't been talking to me, he had been talking to Cal's daughter, which means...

I look from the girl to Cal. "Her name is Emy?" I ask a question, that I already know the answer to. The disbelief I feel is evident in my voice.

Cal grimaces uncomfortably and nods his head. "Well, yeah, but—"

My fist connects with his cheek before I know what I'm doing. "How could you?!" I scream.

His daughter, Emy, jumps forward to shove my leg. "Don't hit my dad!" she screams before Beard Guy swoops in and pulls her back by her shoulders.

"Emy," Cal says to me in a quiet voice, but that's as far as he gets before I take another swing at him.

"You left me! I know why now, but still, you should have known it wasn't true!"

Cal gives me a confused look, but I'm not willing to stop and explain at this moment. I'm much too angry about this bullshit.

I punch him again, and continue my rant, "Even if you thought it was true, how could you move on so fast? You have a fucking four-year-old, Cal? You hate kids! You told me you never wanted them, and then you leave me, knock up some bitch immediately after, and name the child after—"

I've been hitting him repeatedly as I yell, but now Cal catches my wrists and shouts back, "She's not mine!"

"Cal," Beard Guy loudly says his name, in a voice full of disappointment and warning.

Cal drops my wrists as his eyes dart to the girl. "Monster..." he says softly, taking a step toward her.

Emy, the little girl, is staring at him with wide eyes. "I thought I was now," she says in a quiet voice, that doesn't match the spitfire personality that was radiating from her seconds before.

"You are!" Cal says adamantly, dropping to his knees and holding his hands out toward her. "I didn't mean—"

A tear rolls down her cheek, and she turns on her heel, before taking off in a run.

Cal jumps to his feet to go after her. He makes it a few feet before he spins around to look back at me. "Stay right there," he demands, pinning me in place with his dark eyes. "Please," he adds, a little more gently, with a pleading expression on his face.

He looks completely torn about whether to run after the girl, or whether to make sure that I stick around to talk to him. In the end, Emy Junior seems to take priority.

I watch in agony as Cal turns away and leaves me behind to go after her.

She's reached the side of the road now, where vehicles are parked, and she starts reefing on the back door handle of a small, black car.

Beard Guy digs in his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. He clicks a button, and Emy Junior manages to open the door and starts to climb inside.

Cal reaches her and leans into the car, presumably to talk to her. His back hides the girl from my view, but after a quick moment, I see her throw her arms around his neck. He straightens from the car, holding the girl tightly in his arms. He runs a hand over her head and down her back, and then just stands there with her, slowly swaying back and forth.

My heart hurts. Everything hurts. I wipe a tear from my cheek and clear my throat. "Tell Cal I said goodbye," I tell Beard Guy.

"Wait," he says, but I don't want to hear it. I turn around to walk in the opposite direction.

Author's Note: I meant to post this earlier, but got sidetracked. Sorry!

Here is chapter one! Hit me up with any and all theories and questions. I love to know what's going on in my readers' heads. ❤️