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doorway. I know my eyes must be huge by the bizarre way he's looking back at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
    I don't say anything as he cautiously walks toward me, like I'm a skittish animal ready to run at any moment. He doesn't take his eyes from me, staring at my face. He looks mesmerized. As badly as I want to, I can't take my eyes from his, either. It's like staring into a mirror. I never knew we were this similar.
    He reaches out to place his hands on each side of my face. My initial reaction is to pull away, but I can't. I crave this man's affectionate touch for a reason I can't identify. "My God, you look just like my sister. It's amazing."
    I've spent most of my life hating this man for what he did to my mother and me. He got her pregnant while he was married to another woman and then pretended we didn't exist. He threw us away like trash. I hate him for it and every moment he could've made my life easier but chose not to.
    I hate you. The words dance on the tip of my tongue. I want to say them—or maybe scream them—so I can see the look on his face. I want to hurt him the way he's hurt me all of these years.
    When he finishes looking at me, he takes his hands away and uses them to pull me into a tight embrace. My face is pressed into his shoulder but it doesn't stop the words I'm determined to say. "I hate you," I weakly whisper as I halfheartedly push against him, but he only grips me tighter.
    "You can tell me you hate me as much as you like, but it won't change how much I love you, Laurelyn."
    I want to tell him how painful it's been to feel unloved and unwanted by him my whole life and how it directly affects the way I view every man I interact with. Instead, I'm shocked by what I'm feeling. This isn't at all the reunion I'd planned in my head. All the years of anger I've felt for this man melt away because he's my father and he's holding me for the first time. I regress to that little girl who dreamed and prayed he'd want me because I was worth loving.
    "I can never tell you how sorry I am for being absent from your life. But I promise you that it will never happen again. The world is going to know that you're my daughter because I love you."
    I never needed the world to know I was Jake Beckett's daughter. And I sure don't need them to know now. I don't want his free pass into the music industry. "No. I don't want anyone to know."
    "I don't understand."
    I'm sure he doesn't. Most people wouldn't. "I don't want my success based on the fact that I'm Jake Beckett's daughter. I want to make it because I'm a damn good musician. If you announce that you're my father, I'll never know if I was good enough to succeed on my own."
    I can tell he doesn't like it, but that's really too bad. "I'll do whatever you want, Laurelyn. Just promise me I can announce it after you've proven yourself."
    I'm not in a place where I'm anxious to make promises. "Let me make it first, and then we'll go from there."
    ***
     

 
     
    I've spent the last week at my apartment in Sydney because I thought I'd lose my mind if I stayed another day at Avalon. Laurelyn's memory haunts me every place I look. There isn't a place on the vineyard that I don't see her, but my bed is the worst. I won't let Mrs. Porcelli wash the sheets because I want to lie in them and still smell Laurelyn next to me.
    How desperate is that?
    My decision to come to Sydney was ultimately a good one. Although the whole number-fourteen thing was a huge mistake, it opened my eyes to what needed to be done, so I can't regret it in that aspect. But in every other way, it was the stupidest decision I'd ever made. I don't know why I thought anything could drive Laurelyn out of my head. Amnesia couldn't erase her from my brain. She's etched there forever.
    My time hiding out at my apartment has come to an end. It's time for me to return to Avalon. I can't neglect the vineyard during the harvest any longer.
    I'm almost ready to leave when my phone rings, my