its time we danced with the truth (p)

An hour and two wrong turns later, Bronte pulls up to a tall and modern building in the heart of New Rome. It looks more like a fancy office building, she thinks, as she glances up at the six or so stories of large glass windows and small balconies. She parks her old prius along the road, puts a dollar in the meter, and walks up to the front step. There's a long list of names at the buzzer, each printed in neat handwriting next to their own little button. It takes her a minute to find Davenport, and she holds her breath as she presses the circular button. She just has to hope that this time she isn't greeted by another one of Liam's siblings. Her last encounter was awkward enough. At least she doesn't have to worry about coming face to face with the infamous Michael Davenport just yet.

Bronte hears the door unlock, and she doesn't waste time entering the building. She climbs the staircase, prolonging the journey to her ex's front door. She knows she doesn't have a whole lot of time, but whats an extra minute? For all she knows she could be leaving here two minutes later empty-handed. Three flights of stairs later she ends up standing outside his apartment door, and before she can stop herself, she's knocking. This isn't for her, she tells herself.

And there he was, in the flesh, right in front of her. Bronte had imagined this moment for years, and now it was coming true. Yet for once, she couldn't predict the outcome. Right now her baby girl was half a mile away, sitting in a room in the pediatric ward of Julius Caesar Memorial Hospital. And her father was standing right in front of her.

"Hi Liam," She says, as confidently as she can muster, "It's a long story. Can I?" She gestures to the door, hoping that she won't have to stand outside for the next hour.

Bronte takes a seat on the couch in the living room, glancing out the window to her right. It overlooks the valley, and in the distance she can see the outline of Camp Jupiter, where she had spent so much time. She only hopes her daughter will get to experience it too.

"Well, I guess I should start from the beginning." She says, folding her hands in her lap, "Four years ago, when I left New Rome, I was pregnant. With your child. Her name's Masie, she's four. I wasn't planning on leaving, its just that your father found out. He offered me one million dollars to leave and never tell you of her existence. It gave me the chance to give her a good life, something my mother wasn't ever able to offer me. It also let me pursue a career in journalism. To be honest, I wasn't planning on coming back here. But" Here came the point, the reason why she's sitting on this couch right now instead of taking her daughter to the park or scheduling playdates. "Masie has cancer. Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia, hers is pretty aggressive. She's already relapsed twice and she's about to go into her third chemo treatment but the doctors are recommending she get a stem cell transplant. I would've just donated myself but apparently, stem cells of women who have been pregnant are less likely to work, even if I'm her mother. That only leaves you."

Bronte felt awful for showing up out of the blue and dumping this all on him. Hey, how are you? Oh by the way you have a daughter I never told you about and you may be the once chance she has of staying alive. But this was her only chance. She wouldn't have come here if she wasn't out of options.

Bronte breathes a sigh of relief, and for the first time in forever, it feels like there isn't an elephant sitting on her chest. She no longer has to worry about going back to that awful hospital room with nothing. Now that that was out of the way, she had the chance to really look at Liam. He looked good. Older, of course, but still handsome.
Bronte, on the other hand, looked tired. Maybe that was the toll of being a single mother, even if money wasn't the issue. There was a thought, in the back of her head, of what might happen if his father received word of her return. Yet that wasn't important now. Whatever happened, she could get through it, as long as her daughter was healthy in the end.
"Would you like to meet her?" Bronte asked, "Its up to you whether or not you want her to know. But, I think it might be good for you to at least see her."

Bronte smiled, "She's four, all she really wants is a pony and to eat candy for every meal." Bronte hadn't really told Masie about her father.
Sure, she had asked, but she always seemed temporarily satisfied with Bronte telling her he just wasn't around. Thankfully, four-year-olds are very easily distracted. Later on, however, Bronte knew that she'd have to give her some sort of concrete answer.

"Another thing I should mention." Bronte said, "Is that Masie's treatment has been moved here to New Rome. There's an oncologist here that's been mixing mortal chemo treatment with magical medicine. She still insists that a stem cell donor is the best course of action. I'm only saying this because, well, it's a bit closer to home, and your father." Bronte trailed off.

Bronte nods. Maybe if they're lucky, she'll never have to face Michael Davenport ever again. Thats all she really wants.

"Well, the transplant would take place about a week after high intensity chemo, which will last about four weeks, maybe five if it's not responding the right way. So you still have some time." Bronte has cancer facts down. The past year she has been reading every book about cancer available, scouring websites for hours on end, attending support groups. It was like a second full-time job, well third, if you count being a mother in general as a full time job, which she does.

Bronte smiles at Liams attempt to get the stain out of the couch. "Try lemon juice. It gets out tomato and grease stains." She has experience with these types of things. She is a mother after all. It's a weird thing to think about. Last time she was here, she was a whole different person.

"Masie is, well, she's independent." She has to hold back a laugh at that part, "She's already mastered the art of sass, and she's working on sarcasm as we speak. She doesn't act like she's sick. She loves horses and playing doctor, she's recently really gotten into The Backyardagains, she'll watch the same episode over and over and she doesn't even care." Bronte, on the other hand, got a little tired of it.

"Well," Bronte stands up, "Speaking of Masie, I should probably get back to her. You're welcome to tag along if you want, so I can formally introduce her to you." Besides, she had only put a dollar in the meter, it'd be kind of annoying to have her car towed.

Bronte smiles at Liam and tries to force down any anxiety that was starting to bubble up. Its fine, she was just introducing her daughter to the father she thought was a firefighter in New York City. She hadn't meant to lie to Masie, she just realized 'I don't know' isn't a good enough answer for a four-year-old. Besides, she had never imagined that she'd end up in this situation.