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nothing to do it and traipsed off scot-free, like he did.
    ‘Yeah, okay, okay – but no one’s going to let you disrupt his life now just to –’
    ‘Disrupt his life? He’s in foster care. And I’m his
mother
.’
    More silence, and I think I’m as stunned as he is by my declaration. It’s clear that he doesn’t feel the same obligation I feel, but this has never been his burden. It has only ever been mine. His twelve-step apology, no matter what it stems from, doesn’t extend that far.
    ‘Look, I don’t expect you to be involved or anything, okay? I didn’t claim that you were his father four and a half years ago, and I won’t now – not that there might not be some media speculation –’
    ‘
Brooke
. You can’t seriously mean to go to Austin and bring him back to LA? What about your career? Or the fact that you’re twenty? And single?’
    I should have known he wouldn’t understand.
    ‘What, like there’s no such thing as a single mother? Besides which, I can’t think that far ahead right now. All I know is he needs me and I’m going and I don’t give a shit who thinks what about it, including
you
. Just deny you’re his father, if it comes to that. I’m sure Graham and Emma won’t tell, and they’re the only ones who know. I have to go now. Later, Reid.’
    I press
end
and toss the phone on to the bed.
    I still hate saying Graham’s name. Or thinking about him. I press my fingers to my sternum, hard, because it hurts. It always hurts when I think about him.
    The weather in Austin is close to that of Los Angeles this time of year, though it’s a bit more volatile. I roll up a jacketand cram it alongside the jeans. And then I stop dead, thinking about River. He’ll need clothes. And toys. And soap.
And … whatever else kids his age need. Special food? A nanny? I have no idea.
I have no idea
. The enormity of this decision swirls around me and fills the room, insinuating that I can’t possibly do this.
    I’m going to fail. One way or another, I’m going to fail.
    I’ve heard those same sorts of prophecies inside my own head my entire life, and I learned long ago to ignore them. At fifteen, I decided to become a movie star, and now I am. I run my career and my personal life as I see fit, and no one –
no one
– tells me what to do. I screw up occasionally – like I did with Graham. That failure cost me my best friend, and I’ll never come to terms with it. ‘Dammit,’ I mutter, yanking the second case from the bed and shoving Graham Douglas from my mind. Again.
    If I get to Austin and believe there’s a viable alternative to me taking my son back, I’ll consider it. Otherwise, I’m just going to have to figure this single parent shit out.
REID
     
    Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
    Tonight, Dori and I have our first public date. We have literally days until she leaves for Berkeley, which is an ass-numbingly boring five-hour drive from LA. The last thing I want to do is drop
Oh by the way – I’m a father … sort of
on her right before she goes.
    The longer I don’t tell her, the worse it becomes that I haven’t.
    Unless she never finds out.
    The probability of Brooke actually bringing the kid home with her like he’s a puppy from the pound is doubtful. Aside from the legal implications of her having relinquished her rights to him, there’s the simple fact that Brooke Cameron doesn’t voluntarily interact with children. Even Graham’s kid seemed like no more than a means to an end to her – an inconvenience she knew she’d have to tolerate to be with him. She’s got a younger half-brother, I think, born after we split, but I’ve never seen a single photo of her with him. Although that could have as much to do with avoidance of her father, whom she loathes.
    Would Dori do that for me? Though I don’t plan to claim paternity publicly, no matter what I plead guilty to privately.
    Christ, I can’t even go there right now. Dori was abandoned by that guy in high school, and on