Eventually, she peeled herself away and stepped out first, wrapping a towel around her still-damp body. He followed, drying off in his own slow, careless way, the kind that always made her feel like he had all the time in the world when they were together. But she knew better now. Time was never on their side.
She dressed quietly, carefully. The calm after passion brought clarity, but it also brought back the weight she had been carrying for so long. She walked to the dining area and waited, seated at the edge of the table, hands clasped in her lap, eyes staring down at nothing.
Dave emerged minutes later, wearing just his joggers, a towel draped over his shoulder, hair dripping. He looked younger like this, unburdened. It struck her how easily he still took her breath away.
But she had a purpose. One that would change everything.
He smiled when he saw her. "What? You look like you're about to break up with me and we're not even dating."
Gina gave a soft laugh, but it didn't reach her eyes.
He sat across from her, his expression sobering as he picked up on her tone. "What's going on?"
"I have to tell you something," she began, her voice steady but low. "And I need you to listen. Please don't say anything until I'm done."
Dave leaned forward slightly, his brows knitting together.
She inhaled deeply. "Nine years ago… I had a daughter. Your daughter."
The silence dropped like a stone between them.
"She's nine now. Her name is Davina." Her voice wavered just slightly. "I wanted to tell you, Dave. God knows I did. But I couldn't."
His lips parted in disbelief, but he stayed silent as she asked.
"When I found out I was pregnant, I tried to reach you. I called. I wrote. I even came to your parents' house. But your father… he was the one who answered the door. He said you wanted nothing to do with me. That you were done. That I should go raise my 'mistake' on my own."
Dave's eyes darkened. "My father—"
"Let me finish," she said gently, though her voice was tight. "I believed him. I was alone. Scared. But I kept going. I raised her, loved her, gave her the best of what I had. She has your eyes, Dave. The same smirk when she's trying to lie. She's smart, fierce. Just like you."
He rose slowly from his seat and paced the room, raking his fingers through his damp hair. She watched him wrestle with the shock, the betrayal, the ache of time lost.
"I wanted to tell you when she turned five. I even brought her to your music show in Chicago—remember that one?"
He nodded slowly, eyes distant.
"But I saw your father backstage. He saw me too. And the look he gave me..." She trailed off. "I couldn't bring her into that. I was afraid he'd try to hurt us again. That you really didn't want us."
"Jesus, Gina," Dave said, voice hoarse. "You thought I'd walk away from my own child?"
"I didn't know what to believe. I just knew I couldn't afford to be wrong."
He sat back down across from her, breathing heavy, like he'd just run a marathon. "Where is she now?"
"With my mom. Safe. I didn't want to overwhelm you."
His eyes locked onto hers. "Gina, I've missed ten years of being her father."
She reached across the table and touched his hand gently. "You don't have to miss any more. That's why I'm here."
He gripped her fingers tight, his voice cracking. "Can I meet her?"
Gina nodded. "Yes. But only if you're ready."
He gave a soft, broken laugh, wiping his face. "I've never been more ready for anything."
And in that moment, they sat in the quiet aftermath—not of passion this time, but of truth. Something deeper than sex passed between them. Something older. Unfinished.
It was the beginning, again.