by Marlie May
“I couldn’t. Not then. I guess I should’ve.” As they said, hindsight was everything. “Then maybe this wouldn’t have blown up like it has, but I had to be sure. I know the original results are somewhere, but I haven’t been able to find them.” I’d begun to think Jason had disposed of the evidence, which would fit with the rest of his behavior. “I had to get a new copy and it took forever. And there they are.” I flicked my hand toward the paper she’d dropped so she could wipe her eyes.
“The results came today?” she asked.
“Roan saw them before I could tell him.” My eyes watered all over again. “He accused me of keeping this from him for six years. Of lying.”
“Hmm.” Camila’s lips twisted. “Seems that woman he married has risen up from his past to strike him again.”
“I tried to explain, but he packed his bag and said he was going to Sam’s.” The crack in my chest was echoed in my voice. “He left me.”
“I’ll speak with him immediately.”
As she started to stand, I shook my head. “Don’t. I know I sound silly.” I huffed. “I should want the world to intervene, right, because I don’t deserve to be treated like this.” My hands pinched together on my lap. “But if he has no trust for me now, he never will.”
“I don’t like this,” Camila said firmly. “He needs to listen.”
No denying that truth, but I couldn’t make him. He had to find faith for me within his own heart. “Promise me you’ll say nothing to Roan about this. I came here under strict confidence. You’re my lawyer.”
Her nod came slowly. “Sometimes, even though he’s twenty-eight-years-old, I want to spank that boy.”
My snort slipped out. “I’ll let ya.” Sobering, I sat forward, my tone earnest. “But tell me. What does this mean for the case?”
“I’ll pass the results to your in-law’s lawyers.”
“They’re in town right now.”
“Bethany and John?”
“Bethany only. John will be here on Friday. Arie’s birthday party is on Saturday.”
“She’ll be…”
“Five.”
Camila clapped her hands. “I have a five-year-old granddaughter. I can’t believe it. I can come to the party, can’t I?”
“Of course. You’re welcome to visit her any time, too. I want you to get to know her. She’s wonderful.”
“I’m thrilled.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, my. Does she like dolls? Books? What are her favorite things to do?” Her expression stilled when she caught the droop on my face. “I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead myself.” Sobering, she straightened in her chair. “Your case. Right. We’ll need new testing, since this was a home kit you sent in, I assume?”
I nodded.
“You, Roan, and Arie will need to give new samples at an official medical testing facility—I’ll text you where to go—and they’ll conduct the test and deliver the notarized results to me. Once we have something that’ll hold up in court, I’ll arrange for them to be sent to your in-law’s lawyers.” Her grin came across like a cat who’d filled her belly with a big bowl of cream. “But this is just a formality. Their case is finished. No court would take a child from her mother and father and give her to someone who is not a blood relative.”
Relief made me sag in my chair.
“Until we’ve got the new results, however, we need to keep this quiet. Can you avoid sharing this with your former in-laws?”
“Easily.” I’d be happy if I never spoke with Bethany again.
Standing, I thanked Camila for taking the time to speak with me.
After walking me to the door, she hugged me and we made arrangements for her to visit Arie soon.
I paused in the hall outside her door, staring blankly down the hall.
One final thought had hit me, a bolt of lightning jolting down my spine.
The case would soon be over, which meant Roan would divorce me.
Roan
“Wake up.” Sam stood glaring down at me as if I’d eaten her last donut.
I’d slept the night on her living room sofa. She only had one bedroom in her townhouse, so the couch had become my new residence.
She nudged my shoulder, and I rolled onto my side and groaned. Just because my eyes had closed, it didn’t mean I’d fallen back asleep. That would be impossible. Her damn couch needed re-stuffing. Or to be thrown into a dumpster immediately after she bought something new.
“I imagine you forgot to set your alarm,” she said abruptly. “It’s almost seven-thirty.”
Rising to sit up on the side, I scratched my neck, finger-combed my hair, yawned.
“How long you going to crash here, anyway?” Sam asked, tapping her booted foot on the floor.
“It’s only been one night.” I frowned up at her. “Why? Am I messing up your single lifestyle?”
“You know I’m not seeing anyone.” No one serious since her fiancé died in that crash in Europe a year ago. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not getting myself out there.”
I didn’t even want to know what getting out there meant.
Grumbling about the shitty turn my life had taken would get me nowhere, and I hated to lay that burden on my sister. “I’ll do my best to find a new place to stay before you, um, want to get out there. Get in here.” Whatever. “I’ll talk to Cara about what’s best.”
There was no best. Just a fiery sensation inside of me that threatened to burn a hole through my intestines. After it finished incinerating my heart.
Her eyebrows lifted. “If you’re talking to her, then why are you here?”
“We’re not really talking, but I can stay in my spare room.”
Sam’s scowl deepened, but jeez, I refused to discuss my failed marriage with her. It hurt too much to remember.
“I want to get to know Arie better, anyway,” I said. “And I can’t do it here.”
“You can bring my niece over any time. In fact, I’m going to go meet her today. Family needs to stick together.”
Not touching that comment, because the reply might come with a smack up-side my head, along with a long discussion about the importance of marriage. As if we’d had a good example growing up. Dad and Mom split when I was ten, and Dad moved out of state not long after that. Sure, we saw him every other weekend and school vacations, but it wasn’t like growing up with two parents.
“I can’t believe I have a niece,” she continued to gush. “It’s the most wonderful thing in the world.” Her brow furrowed. “You think she’d like to take a spin on my Harley?”
Hell, yes. Assuming I dared let my daughter ride with my speed-demon sister. Maybe I’d let her put-put around in the yard, but nothing else. “Why aren’t you mad about all this?” Meaning, why wasn’t she mad at Cara, like me.
“Because Arie’s a little kid, and I love her already.”
“That’s not what I meant. Cara kept her from me. From us. For almost six years.”
She shrugged. “I imagine there’s a good explanation.”
Not that I could tell. Like everyone else in my life, she’d been determined to take advantage of me. A sour taste filled my mouth all over again, which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I hadn’t brushed my teeth.
“Don’t you have to go to work?” I asked, standing. Reaching over my head, I stretched. I’d shower once she left. I was late already.
“Lots of things on my agenda today,” she said, grinning.
No one should be cheerful at this hour of the morning. Not that seven-thirty was early; I was usually up by six. But I’d barely slept. My eyes stung, my head pounded, and my body ached after trying to find a comfortable position on her couch. Which was impossible.
Her stride perky, she walked toward the door, scooping up her purse up from the table as she passed. “Will you still be in residence tonight?”
I grumbled when she chuckled. “I’ll make other arrangements.”
That surge in my heart was not excitement about moving back in with Cara. It wa
s my house. I could stay there if I wanted. I’d avoid her and spend all my time with Arie.
“I appreciate it,” Sam said. “It’s not that I don’t mind giving you a place to stay while you think this through, but I do hope you’re thinking hard.”
“I am.” Couldn’t do anything else, other than mourn.
“Because life’s too short to throw something wonderful away.” The door shut behind her, leaving me alone with silence I was finding more and more difficult to fill with anger.
* * *
On my way to the bottling plant, Mom sent me a text. Come to my office. Now.
Since I’d only just parked in the lot, and I wasn’t ready to tackle life without an IV coffee infusion, I turned around and drove to Mom’s office, stopping to buy a double espresso at Mr. Joe’s on the outskirts of town along the way.
“Roan,” Mom said when I strolled into her office. She retook her seat behind her desk and pointed. “Sit.” Her expression reminded me of when I’d been ten and decided it was an awesome idea to ride my bike out to Lake Snyder to camp overnight without telling her first.
“Cara came in yesterday for my advice,” Mom said.
About a divorce? She’d acted fast. I rubbed my belly, where that ulcer was already forming. I shouldn’t be upset if that was why Mom called me here, but it stung. But, then, I couldn’t stay married to someone who’d lied, even if I loved her more than I had when we were kids. Why couldn’t I drum up the anger I’d felt before? Stealing was stealing, and in some ways, stealing a child was worse than taking money, because it was a theft of a big part of me.
Maybe divorce was our only future. I loved her, but how could we make it work if there wasn’t truth between us?
Mom handed me a slip of paper with a phone number on it. “Call them. Make an appointment for the paternity test, please.”
So, this wasn’t about a divorce. Yet.
Would my mother handle the divorce for me or for Cara? From the scowl on Mom’s face when she stared at me, paper extended, I had a feeling I should consult a different lawyer.
“Arie’s mine.” I stared down at the number before folding the paper and stuffing it into my pocket.
Her lips thinned. “Call today.”
“I assume you’re angry Cara kept this from you, too.” That must be why she was acting so peeved.
“You are beyond deluded.” Her pen smacked onto her blotter and she leaned forward, making her chair squeak with the quick motion. “Frankly, I’m ashamed of you.”
Defensive rose in me like a spiteful child. “I didn’t hide a little girl from half her family.”
Mom’s sigh took so long, the wind hit my face. “Cara was right.”
I didn’t like where this conversation was headed. My voice thickened. “Cara was wrong.”
“Lainie’s actions hurt you. It was a betrayal of trust from a woman you loved. A woman you married.”
“Yeah.” I stood, needing to get away from the uncomfortable emotions beating down on me like a sledgehammer. Talking about my ex with Mom would get me nowhere. That chapter in my life had closed when they put Lainie in orange and hauled her off to jail. “Is this all you needed to see me about?”
“I’ve instructed Cara to say nothing about this, especially to her in-laws, until the results come back, which won’t take long. I’m asking you to do the same.” Rising, Mom came around the desk and took my hand in her own, something she hadn’t done since I was little. “I imagine you’re eager to tell Arie, too, but that will also have to wait.”
I hadn’t thought about it yet, but now that she mentioned it, I was eager to tell my daughter she was mine. How would she take it? Would she be mad or sad, or would she welcome me as her father?
Mom squeezed my hand. “If you’d like some advice, when it’s time, tell her together. She’s young. She won’t understand. She thinks Jason’s…Well, she’s the one we need to protect the most here.”
“I can wait.” I’d talk to Cara, assuming she was still speaking to me. Once the results came back and things were settled, we could sit down with Arie and share the news. Jesus, I hoped she’d be okay with it.
What if my own daughter rejected me?
Mom followed me to the door. “I’ll give you and Cara a call and have you come into the office once I receive the results. I’ll also notify the other team’s lawyers, but that will be a formality. With proof in hand, they’ll have no case.”
If nothing else, that was a relief.
“Thanks, Mom.” I kissed her cheek, ignoring the sadness lingering on her face because I knew it was reflected on mine, and left. As I strode across the parking lot to my car, it occurred to me that, once the results were confirmed, Cara really could divorce me. Kick me out of her life for good.
Our marriage hadn’t lasted any longer than a celebrity’s.
That night, after work, I moved back into my other spare bedroom. Since I didn’t want to make things awkward, I stayed inside, pacing around the double bed, until everyone else was asleep. Cara, other than widening her eyes when I walked through the door and sheepishly told her I needed to use the other room, had said nothing.
If she hadn’t hated me before, it was clear she did now.
Why did I care what she thought of me? She had no reason to feel upset. She was the one who’d kept my daughter from me.
But not any longer.
We sat in the dining room together the next night. I ate a pizza I’d picked up at the Brew House. Cara and Arie ate chicken with rice and vegetables, something Cara had cooked. Though it smelled awesome, I wasn’t sure I would’ve dared ask for a serving.
“After dinner, sweetie, we can do your homework,” Cara said. Her eyes slid past me as if I no longer existed, which should spark my ire, but just made me feel sad. As if a big part of me had been severed from the rest. “Just math tonight, right?”
“Yup,” Arie said.
“I’ll put Arie to bed tonight,” I said. I’d memorized the book I wanted to read to her, practiced Cara’s prayers until they were seamless. And while I had no singing voice, I’d struggle through the song. My daughter and I would bond. Get to know each other so that, when we told her the truth, it wouldn’t come as too big of a shock.
Cara flinched as if I’d hit her, but then lifted her chin. “Putting her to bed is my routine.”
Hers. As if it was something I could never share.
I had, though. It ended when we shattered.
“We can do it together.” I shouldn’t feel happy about the relief spreading across her face. We were Arie’s parents. No reason we couldn’t get along for our daughter’s sake. Lots of divorced parents found a way to raise their child by making the arrangement a healthy environment. My parents had. Even after Mom married Janine when I was fifteen.
I tossed my half-eaten slice of pizza onto my plate. Damn thing tasted like ashes. Standing, I grabbed the box and dumped it in the trash. After taking a beer from the fridge, I retreated to my room until it was bedtime.
I couldn’t face Cara without my soul twisting sideways.
Sitting on the bed, my legs stretched out in front of me, I stared at the sweat beading up and sliding down my beer.
I had not made a mistake.
Our split was inevitable once her lie came out.
* * *
On Friday afternoon, Mom sent me a text asking me to come to her office. Probably sent one to Cara, too, because she was sitting in one of the chairs when I arrived. Her back stiffened, but she didn’t cut a glance my way, just wrung her hands on her lap.
Mom grinned when I sat. “The results are back and it’s conclusive.” Joy overflowed her voice when she looked at me. “You’re Arie’s father.”
Why did I sag with relief? I’d known the moment I saw the other results that I had to be my daughter’s father.
Cara stared straight ahead, barely responding outside of a soft, okay. But then, she’d known this information for years. Easing forward in her chair, she said, “Where
do we go from here?”
“Continue to keep this quiet until your in-laws’ lawyers notify them. I sent the results already, but the clinic will follow up with something official.”
“Will the lawyers tell them before tomorrow? That’s Arie’s birthday and they’re in town to celebrate.”
“I believe so. They may have told them already.”
“All right.” Cara stood.
We left, Cara going to her building.
I went to the Brew House because it was Mei’s day off. I spent the evening at Spicy Concoctions after that, dealing with a supply issue.
Arriving home just in time to help put Arie to bed, I read her a book.
“Prayers, Mommy,” Arie said. Her eyes slid to me, where I leaned against the doorframe. “Can you say ‘em, too, Roan?”
Roan. Would she ever call me Daddy? I ached to hear the name from my daughter.
We recited the prayer, then sang Arie’s bunny song.
After, I slunk to my room and shut the door.
Each day, it was harder to maintain the wall between us, but I still couldn’t let go of my resentment that Cara had betrayed me.
* * *
The next day was Arie’s birthday party, scheduled for the afternoon. In the morning, I went out to Spicy Concoctions. The first thing that hit me when I strode through the door was the missing menu and pricing board that had always hung above the bar in the tasting room. When had it been taken down?
“Kevin!” I shouted.
Some guy I’d never seen before manned the taps at the bar. He jumped when I yelled.
What the hell was going on here?
A woman—who I also did not recognize—stared at me for a second before scurrying through the door into the main room. Hopefully, she’d return with Kevin.
Kevin came alone. Like a dude from the Wild West, prepared to fight it out with the local gunslinger, he stopped in front of me and placed both hands on his hips.
Sam followed, Kevin’s trusty back-up. Why was she here? Didn’t she have a showing to get ready for?