Page 16

"Tell me about Luna," Razor says, like he can read my mind.

And just like that, I relax.

Because I can talk about Luna for hours. She's the one subject I'm never at a loss for words on.

"She's six," I start. "First grade. She's smart, scary smart, actually. Reading at a third-grade level, obsessed with dinosaurs right now. She can name every single period and tell you which dinosaurs lived when and what they ate and how big they were."

"That's impressive."

"She gets it from my dad. He was a paleontology buff. Used to take me to the natural history museum when I was her age and spend hours in the dinosaur exhibit. He died when I was twenty-three, but I still have all his books. Luna's been reading through them."

"I'm sorry. About your dad."

"Thank you. He would've loved being a grandpa. Would've spoiled Luna rotten." I take another sip of wine. "What about you? You said your parents were in and out of prison. Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Just me."

"Do you ever see your parents?"

"No." His voice is flat, final. "Last I heard, my mom was still inside. Dad died a few years back. Overdose. I didn't go to the funeral."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Don't be. He was a bastard when he was alive. Death didn't change that."

"Still. It's your father."

"Biology doesn't make someone a parent." He takes a long drink of his beer. "The people who raise you, who show up, who give a damn, those are parents. Everyone else is just DNA."

I think about Jason again. About Luna asking why she doesn't have a daddy like the other kids at school, about the way I tried to explain that some people aren't ready to be parents without making her feel like it was her fault.

"Luna asks about her father sometimes," I confess. "I never know what to tell her. That he left because he was scared? That he wasn't ready? That it has nothing to do with her?"

"Tell her the truth. That he's a coward who walked away from the best thing that ever could've happened to him."

"She's six. I can't tell her that."

"Then tell her a version of it she can understand. But don't lie to protect him. He doesn't deserve that."

"I'm not protecting him. I'm protecting her."

"From what?"

"From feeling like she wasn't enough to make him stay. From thinking something's wrong with her. From—" I stop, blinking back the sting in my eyes. "From all the things I felt when he left. Like I wasn't worth fighting for."

Razor sets down his beer. "Look at me."

I do.

"You were worth fighting for," he says. "He was just too much of a coward to do it. And Luna is worth everything. She'll figure that out on her own eventually, with or without him. Because she has you showing her every single day what real love looks like."

I can't speak. Can't get words past the lump in my throat.

"I'm sorry," he says, misreading my silence. "I'm overstepping. It's none of my business."

"No." I wipe at my eyes quickly. "No, you're not. You're right. About all of it."

We sit in silence for a moment. The jukebox switches songs, something slower, sadder. A couple in the booth across from us is leaning close, laughing about something.