I'm a father. Me, of all people. Miles fucking Matheson. I'm the last person in the world that ever needed to procreate. Hell, I had a kid before my older brother and he's got all the brains in the family. I'm a Marine, a high IQ wasn't one of the job requirements. What's worse was the way it happened. We split before I left for Afghanistan. Rachel's beautiful and smart and ambitious, everything I'm not. I knew she was too good for me…and I probably wasn't coming back anyway. Chances are Bass and I would wind up in the sand somewhere and I didn't want to do that to Rachel. I think she knew it was coming, same as I did. No point in making it hard.
I was only gone for a couple weeks when she wrote me with the news. She's pregnant and she's keeping the kid. What the hell do you say to something like that? Luckily, I was too busy trying to keep Bass and I alive to think about it much. I asked Ben to be there for her. I sent her most of my income and let her knew my intentions. Ben and I had a shitty dad that was never there for us and I'll be damned if I do the same. No kid should grow up without a father.
I got a couple weeks leave six months later and came home to a surprise. Rachel and Ben had been spending a lot of time together, like I asked, and I could tell there was something there. They were alike, they had similar personalities and life goals. Though they tried to hide it, I knew what they wanted to hear. They wanted to be together, they wanted to start a family. They wanted my blessing. But every time I looked at Rachel's belly I felt a knife twist in my gut. I knew it was right, I knew Ben would be a better father than I could ever hope to be. I knew that even if I survived the sand box, I wouldn't be in one place for long. I knew Ben offered love and stability and prosperity and kindness and compassion and everything I was not. I knew the kid would rather have Ben than me if it had a choice. I knew it was the right decision, even after I made it.
But I also knew something else. A few months later when I held a pink bundle it my arms and felt her soft blonde curls in my hand, I knew she had my heart. I knew I was changed, as hard as I tried not to be. I told them I never wanted her to know. I didn't want anyone to know, not even Bass. She was theirs one hundred percent, even on those rare visits when I came home and found a toddler where there was once a baby. She was theirs, she wasn't mine. It was better that way, better for her. She wasn't mine to hold or comfort or care for or protect, and I tried my best not to think of her. Until the day she walked into my bar.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Charlie...Charlotte. I'm his niece."