by B. B. Hamel
He nods. “All right. Go ahead.”
Chad is a handy guy. Always has been. From what I can tell, he basically built his whole house himself. Bought it cheap and improved it, nail by nail. He’s the kind of guy that can fix just about anything, and on top of that, he has a pretty wife and three kids.
He’s more like our father than I ever will be, which is fine. I never loved my father much, and my father never cared much for me. He always preferred Chad, although my mother always hated Chad’s existence. Chad was always proof that my father had a life before my mother, and I think that rubbed her wrong. But Chad’s mother died when Chad was nine, and so my father got custody. It was weird, growing up with a brother so much older than me, although I don’t remember when he first came to live with us.
“I want to ask you about… being a father.”
Chad looks surprised. “What did you do, get a girl pregnant?”
I nod. “Three years ago, actually. Didn’t find out until now.”
“Damn,” he says softly. “That’s one hell of a break.”
“I like the girl, though. Maybe more than like her. I want to be with her. But she hasn’t admitted that her son is mine.”
“How do you know he is, then?”
“Hired a private detective,” I admit. “He did some research and… well, he’s mine.”
Chad nods, not giving anything away. “So now you’re wondering what the hell to do, and you wanted to ask me.”
I shrug. “Seems stupid, I know.”
He sighs, the sort of sound a man used to working long, late hours can make. “No, not really. We turn to family in times like these. Shit, Declan, I wish I could help.”
“How did you know?” I ask him. “I mean, that you wanted to be a father.”
“I didn’t know for sure,” he admits. “But I wanted a family. So we made one, and I became a dad gradually.”
“What do you mean?”
He takes a long drink and looks at me. “Here’s the thing they don’t tell you, Declan. With women, all these hormones and shit course through them, making them love that baby more than life itself. But for us? We have to learn to love.”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not automatic. Oh, don’t get me wrong, you love your kid, of course, but… that intense, undying, incredible sort of love a parent has for their child doesn’t just appear for us. We have to earn it.”
“How?” I ask him softly.
“Hard work,” he admits. “Changing the baby, burping it, letting it scream in your face, letting it shit on you, piss on you, smile at you, laugh with you. Teaching it until one day, your child is a real living person and you realize how much you love it.”
I watch him closely and for a second, I can see that. I can see myself with Felix when he was small, changing him and holding him. “My son’s two,” I say to him.
“So what?” He shrugs. “Like I said, you have to work. You have to put in the time. The feelings are there, you just have to grow them.”
This isn’t what I expected to hear, but it actually makes sense, and it’s strangely… comforting. When I found out that Felix is my son, I didn’t understand why I didn’t have an instant and intense love for him. I thought that just automatically happened with parents. But this makes sense to me. This gives me hope.
“That’s what it means to be a father,” Chad says, finishing his beer. “You put in the work. You give a shit.” He shrugs at me, looking at his glass. “Everything else comes in its own time.”
I ring Teagan’s doorbell and wait.
I know she’s home. I let her know that I’d be stopping by, although I didn’t say why. I just told her that I wanted to see her, and that I had a surprise for her.
She answers the door a few seconds later, a smile on her face. “Hi, Declan.” She looks at my hands, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
I hold up a Lego Star Wars set. “I can’t stay. I just wanted to drop this off.”
“Legos?” She laughs as I hand them to her.
“For Felix.”
The laughter slowly fades. “Oh,” she says, clearly surprised.
“I know it’s out of the blue. I was just thinking of you and him, and I realize that I’ve never given him a gift, although I’ve given you plenty.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she says softly.
“I want to. I’m a part of your life now, aren’t I?”
She nods after a second. “Yeah. You are.”
“Good. I think that might be a little old for him, but he’ll love it when he’s ready.”
She smiles at me. “This is really sweet. Do you want to come in, give it to him yourself?”
I hesitate. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe some other time.”
“Okay.” She smiles and gets up on her tiptoes, kissing me. “Thanks, Declan.”
I pull her against me, kissing her deeper. “You’re welcome.”
“When am I seeing you again?”
“Soon,” I say. “Don’t be too impatient.”
“I’m always impatient for you,” she whispers, sending a thrill down my spine.
I kiss her again before turning away. I walk quickly down her stoop and get into the back of my car. I tell Andrey to head back home, and I watch as Teagan waves before heading back inside.
Part of me thinks I should have gone inside and seen Felix, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I know she’s probably wondering why the hell I just did that, but I don’t care. I’m taking it one step at a time. It’s okay if I don’t feel overwhelmed with emotions when I think about Felix.
I’m going to be a father to that boy whether Teagan knows it yet or not. And I’m going to put in the work, the effort, the time. The feelings will come after that, sooner or later.
I’m going to do right. Whatever that means.
20
Teagan
Sometimes, the morning just fades into afternoon, and suddenly the day is gone.
I put my hands flat on my desk, surprised that my phone says it’s after five already. Felix is with Marta again, but I feel guilty for not being there. I feel guilty for a lot of things.
I lean back and sigh. I close my eyes and I can see Declan standing there at my door, completely out of nowhere, with a present for Felix. I almost told him, right then and there. I almost spilled it.
But something in his expression made me stop short. I don’t know what it was, but it pushed me away, made me clam up. I’m afraid, if I’m being honest with myself. I’m terrified of how he’ll respond.
I’ve been holding this secret in for so long now that I don’t know how to give it a voice. I don’t know how to tell him. If I just say the words, he might not understand. He might disappear from my life and right now, I don’t think I can handle that.
He’s the best thing happening to me. Really he’s the best thing in a long time.
He deserves to know. I need to tell him, and the longer I wait, the worse it gets. The more attached I become, the harder it’s going to be when he gets so angry that he leaves me forever.
Do I really think he’d walk away from his son? Or maybe even dump me and fight for custody of Felix in court? I can’t imagine he’d try and take my son away. I don’t know. I don’t think so, but he didn’t ask for this. He wasn’t ever given the choice. But maybe the same can be said for keeping this from him. I’m not giving him the chance to have a son by not telling him the truth.
My head keeps running circles around this problem, over and over again, but I don’t have any extra space for it. I don’t have a single second to spare right now, not with the case getting more intense. After that hearing, Jerry basically doubled our already-taxing workload. I can’t complain, but it’s still burying me, and I feel like I’m never going to catch up with any of this.
I have to, though. I can’t just give up. Felix depends on me. And then there’s Declan. I don’t know what he’d think if I screwed all this up. He might
be happy that they won their case, but I doubt it. I think he’d be disappointed in me.
I don’t know why all roads keep leading back to him for me right now. Everything I say and do has some connection to him, some gossamer thread running tight between me and him, keeping me in his orbit, dragging me along behind him.
He texts me, but we don’t meet up, and he doesn’t bring over any more surprises. I think he’s busy at work, and I know I definitely need to concentrate on what I’m doing. The week drags past this way, texts and phone calls snuck between tasks. He travels to Canada on Thursday, and the texts slow down, but they don’t stop.
I don’t see him all weekend. I’m starting to feel like an addict, Jonesing for my next fix, but he’s my drug. His smile, his muscular body, the way he bites my lower lip, the way he slides his hands down my body like he can’t get enough of my curves, the way he laughs at my jokes like I’m the funniest person alive, it all makes me feel so incredibly good that I can barely describe it. I want more of him, more and more of him, but I know everything between us is a ticking time bomb.
So while he’s away, I concentrate on myself. I do my job, work hard at it, and I spend as much time with Felix as I can. Although seeing Felix is like seeing Declan, or at least a smaller version of him. Declan’s features are there in Felix, very much alive, and I’m starting to see them more and more.
I take Felix to the park. I take him to the museum. I take him to the zoo. I spend all my time with him over the weekend, and I barely think about Declan. I barely wonder what he’s thinking, who he’s with, what he’s feeling, if he misses me the same way I miss him.
Monday rolls around. “So, you haven’t mentioned… him yet.” Sara raises an eyebrow at me.
I shrug a little and take a bite of my salad. “He’s away on business.”
“Business, huh?” She grins at me.
“Yes, business.” Sometimes I regret telling her about Declan. On the one hand, she totally gets it. But as this trial drags on, I can feel some resentment starting to form.
“Sometimes I wish you’d just get him to drop this whole thing. You know?” She laughs a little, but it’s hollow. “Like, use your feminine wiles. Seduce him.”
I glance away. “You know this isn’t his thing.”
“I know, I’m just kidding.” She laughs casually but I know it’s forced.
“Really, Sara, it’s not him. It’s his partner.”
“Does that make it better?” She cocks her head, suddenly getting serious. “His company does things to the environment that we’re actively working against.”
“I know that,” I admit. “It’s something I have on my mind.”
“So what are you doing about it? You like him obviously, but is that enough?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We haven’t talked about it. We’ve been keeping business out of our relationship.”
“Business is always personal,” she says, shaking her head. “People trying to pretend like it isn’t are just using that as an excuse to do really shitty things.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I lean back and look into her eyes. “But why does his job have to be inherently bad?”
“Because they’re doing bad things.”
“Like what? Building stuff? They’re not polluting the earth or something. They’re just developers.”
“They’re building on spaces that should be preserved for everyone. They’re stripping away nature.” She sighs and leans back. “You know all this.”
“I guess my point is, not everything is so simple and easy.”
“I guess not.”
We fall into a strained silence, and although I manage to change the subject, that argument still hovers in the air between us.
The frustrating thing is, I don’t really disagree with her. But I don’t think Declan is bad anyway. He’s making a living doing something he’s good at, and I don’t think he intends to hurt the environment in any way. It’s just a byproduct of his business. I can help steer him away from that, show him other ways to be productive and to make money while still living within the bounds of nature. He doesn’t have to bulldoze the wetlands to build a mixed-use tower.
I know Sara’s just stressed. I can’t blame her. This week is already a nightmare, with Jerry working us hard. We submitted some requests for special witnesses, professionals in our field that can speak to the impacts of building on that space. But as soon as we did, the opposition’s lawyers had something to say.
Tuesday morning, Sara storms into my office. “Did you hear?”
I shake my head. “I just got in.”
“The fuckers got our witnesses thrown out.”
“What? All of them?”
“Bias, or some other shit. Can you fucking believe that? It’s absurd, they dug up a bunch of shady dirt on these guys, slandered them, fucked with their careers. What kind of people would do that just to win a case?”
Sure enough, Sara’s right. I find an email at the top of my inbox detailing everything. She heads back to her desk and my anger just starts growing.
I can’t believe they did this. Our witnesses are good people, but the opposition dug up a bunch of bullshit dirt from their pasts just to smear them and get them thrown out. Their testimony is important to our case, but the judge doesn’t care about that, he just cares about the reliability of the witnesses and the sanctity of his courtroom.
Fuck his courtroom. And fuck this case.
I’m livid when my phone vibrates. “I’m home.”
It’s from Declan. “Are you back at your place?” I send him.
“Yes, I am. Good to be back. Can’t wait to see you.”
I stare at my phone and make a snap decision. I stand up, grab my things, toss my phone in my bag, and storm out of my office.
Maybe Sara’s right. Maybe I can do more. And right now, I’m just angry enough to try.
21
Declan
I’m tired from traveling yet still wired. I drank too much damn coffee on the plane and now I can’t sleep.
I stand in my kitchen, yawning and stretching. I pour myself a whisky, hoping the alcohol can help calm things down. I grab my phone and check my messages, but there’s nothing except the usual million emails I’m going to ignore.
I frown and sip my drink. I expected more excitement from Teagan. I know I haven’t been able to give her much attention over the last week, but it’s not entirely my fault. I’ve been traveling all over fucking Canada, looking at job sites and taking meetings with clients and investors, doing the usual fucking song and dance.
Frankly though, I was just thinking about her the whole time. As soon as I stepped off the plane for my trip, I just wanted to turn around and go back home.
I never felt that way before her. I lived for my job, loved it. All I wanted to do was make deals and build. Nothing else mattered to me, nothing at all. I didn’t even give a shit about the money, I was more interested in playing the game.
Now though, it feels boring and useless. That trip normally would be the highlight of my year. Normally I would love running around Canada, wheeling and dealing, but this week just felt…. bland. Uninteresting. And all I wanted was to go back home to Teagan.
I tried to ignore that feeling. I tried to fight it. I kept myself away from her as much as possible, called and texted the bare minimum, even though all I wanted to do was talk on the phone with her. And not even in a dirty way, I just wanted to hear her voice.
Now that I’m home, I can’t wait to see her. I assumed she felt the same. That text didn’t seem too promising though.
I sigh. I shouldn’t read too deeply into it. According to the emails I’ve been on, Reid’s lawyers are causing them a lot of problems. Their key witnesses were thrown out, a particularly devious move. They dug up a bunch of dirt on those guys and submitted it to the court, making it all public record. I’m sure they ruined some lives with that shit. Apparently one environmental specialist has been going to a prostitute every da
y for ten years, and apparently he has two children with her.
I don’t feel good about what they did. Frankly, if I had known, I would have stopped it. That’s probably why Reid waited until I was out of the country. He knows me well, maybe too well. I like to play and win, but I don’t like to be fucking sneaky about it.
I take another sip of my whisky and suddenly my door starts buzzing. Surprised, I walk over and check the security camera.
I feel my heart leap in my chest. It’s Teagan, looking impatient.
I hit a button, unlocking the door. “Come in,” I say through the intercom.
She hesitates then pushes open the door. I turn off the camera.
“Back here,” I call out.
She comes walking down the hall, a frown on her face.
“It’s good to see you.” I walk up to her, putting my arms around her and pulling her close.
She returns my hugs stiffly. “Hey,” she says.
I pull away, sensing that something’s off. She doesn’t look happy, not at all. And she should still be at work, I realize.
“What’s going on?” I ask her.
“You know what’s going on.” She glares at me angrily.
“Shit,” I say softly, knocking back my drink. “This is business, isn’t it?”
“Declan.” She throws her bag onto my kitchen island. “They’re fucking us. And ruining lives in the process.”
“I hade nothing to do with it,” I say.
“How long is that excuse going to fly?”
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Not long.” She glares again. “I know you want to keep our jobs and our personal lives separate, but we can’t. Not after this, Declan.”
I turn away from her and pour myself another drink. I sip it slowly, trying to think. “What can I do?” I ask finally.
“You can get them to back the fuck off, for starters.”
I turn around and shake my head. “I can’t do that and you know it.”
“Why? People’s lives are being ruined.”