by RJ Scott
He squeezed her hand in return. "Leigh, honestly, I'm sorry I couldn't be that person for you." He attempted to be reasonable and fair, but in the back of his mind, the sudden realization hit him that his whole world had changed in the space of a minute.
"I haven't told Emma, but she knows, Liam. She isn't stupid, and I was never going to be a good momma. I'm not sure I ever will be."
"Of course you will," Liam said gently, "when the time is right, when the person you choose as your partner is the person you were meant to be with."
"I have embarrassed my family." She paused, straightened her posture and continued. "I don't care. I don't, and maybe that makes me sound like a bitch, but I finally decided to be me. God, Liam, you're a good guy, please… Does that make any sense?"
"More than you know," Liam said simply.
"Liam, I'm sorry."
He was a good guy? Hardly. He was a man with secrets of his own. He wanted to say he had been having second thoughts, but there was so much indecision in him he didn't know anything for sure. "I may have decisions of my own to make," he said hastily, "things that have happened to me…" He shrugged helplessly. She leaned in, a smile on her face.
"I hope he makes you happy." Shock cut through him, and he opened his mouth to speak, but she had already gotten up to leave.
Always the gentleman, Liam rose. Impulse had him embracing her in a tight hug, and she chuckled into his shoulder, leaning back to look up at him. He stole a kiss, a simple touch of lips, a goodbye really, and then feeling Emma tug at his jeans, he scooped her up, and for one final time, he wanted that hug where everything could be as normal. He'd analyze why he wanted that later, but for the time being, it was probably time to think about exactly who he was, and how he would explain it all to Emma once she was old enough. He wasn't going to lie anymore.
"Liam?" Micah's voice. Liam groaned inwardly, looking left into hazel eyes. A curious Micah stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Jeez, he couldn't handle any more this morning.
"Micah," he said simply. Micah looked at Liam, then to Leigh, then to Emma who reached out a syrup-sticky hand in welcome. "This is Emma, my daughter… and Leigh…" His voice tailed off, how the hell did he describe his ex-fiancée to his short-term lover and did it even matter? Leigh clearly thought Micah was some sort of guy who didn't need to know shit about anything going on and went into supportive fiancée mode. She wouldn't know it would do more harm than good, and it wasn't as if he stopped her in any way.
"His fiancée," she said firmly and held out her hand as Emma had done. Micah took the hand and shook it firmly before releasing it, then looked Liam direct in the eye. The hazel was dark. There was pain in his eyes, embarrassment, even a flash of temper, and then he released his hold on Leigh's hand and turned on his heel. This was stupid, letting Micah leave like that. With a few words, Liam could explain it all, but something held him back from saying a word. He just wasn't ready to talk about this. It was all too soon, and there were too many decisions he needed to make. He had his daughter to think about.
He would catch up with him in his room and explain it all. No harm done. As soon as he spent time with Emma.
"Micah, I'll talk to you later," he called after the retreating man, but Micah didn't turn, and Liam's stomach twisted. He would have one hell of a lot of explaining to do.
"Daddy, can we go on the beach?"
"I'm going to go now."
Leigh and Emma spoke at the same time, and Liam's priority was to answer Emma. "Of course we can, baby."
"Bye, Liam."
Suddenly it hit him that he and Emma, and a bag full of what he assumed was Emma's things, were alone together in the breakfast room. A slow trickle of people walked around them, chattering about usual stuff like what they were going to eat. Normal things.
Leigh had gone, Emma wanted to go on the beach, and Micah probably had an entire head full of misconceptions.
Fuck.
* * * *
Micah chalked it up to one night of really good sex. That was all it was, and it could be easily dismissed. So why did it hurt so much to see Liam lip-locked with a freaking fiancée in the restaurant and with his daughter in tow? A knife of disappointment had stabbed Micah through the chest when he saw Liam pull back and look down at the fiancée with a smile on his face. A daughter for fuck's sake? What was Liam? Bi? Curious? Clearly, whatever Liam was after, Micah had been a willing dick to fill the vacation. All that bullshit of wanting to talk. God, if it hadn't been for the little girl with her wide eyes and sticky hands, he would have laid Liam out with a punch to the face, expensive hotel or not. Instead, Micah climbed the stairs to his floor in a semi-angry semi-dazed stumble. Whatever. It wasn't like the last few days had really meant anything, and he could handle the embarrassment of being used for sex.
There were worse things in the world. He was out of here anyway, and it was time to get ready to go. He packed his case and did a final check on the room. Okay, so twelve hours early to the airport could be seen as running, but his seven days were up, and he was happy to be going home. So much for extending his stay a few days to spend more time with Liam. The bill was already covered by his credit card, and he could easily steal away down the back stairs and take the exit that led to the beach. However, masochist that he was, he went down to the marble pillared reception area to arrange a taxi to the airport.
A large part of him hoped Liam would still be there. He would bring over the woman, his fiancée, and the daughter, and explain the terrible mistake. Maybe he would reveal she was actually his best friend, and the little girl was a godchild or something equally innocent, anything so that the ache of betrayal inside Micah would ease. Maybe if he saw Liam, he could plant his fist into his face, show him that it wasn't right to use people like this or to lie. The adult part of him wanted to simply ask What the hell Liam? He wasn't going to subside into misery over what he had seen, and he wanted to leave.
Micah didn't see his erstwhile lover in reception. There was no sign of him while he stood on the front steps, and no one watched him get into the taxi as far as he was aware; nor did anyone follow him to the airport.
By the time his flight was called, the bitterness of embarrassment and betrayal and the need to ask questions had turned to cold icy dismissal. He had been used as some pseudo-straight guy's week off. The flash of attraction between them had merely been Liam's way of getting his fill of dick before going back to his soon-to-be wife. No wonder all he wanted to do was fuck with no affection.
A confused newbie he wasn't. He was just suffering from guilt overload, getting fucked over by a man who, all the time, had a fiancée and kid waiting on him at home. The bastard was simply living a lie. Had Micah known then he wouldn't have even bothered with tempering the sex with patience and affection. He really should have just enjoyed the fucking for what it was. No, actually, if he'd known, he had to be honest with himself, he wouldn't have gone anywhere near Liam. Ice turned to temper, and the idea of punching Liam repeatedly in the face pushed to the forefront of his mind once more. As his plane flew east, temper became the resolve to never think about the asshole again, and to never, ever, go away to the wine convention again. Ever.
Next time, his sisters would have to listen to him.
Because this time, however much he tried to rationalize it, this had hurt.
Chapter 12
"This is utterly ridiculous. You can't announce your marriage is off, and then leave the company and the family in one go." Patrick Wade turned purple, a particularly florid shade that flooded his skin, which wasn't unusual for Liam's father whenever he got stressed. Liam's mom fluttered like some kind of wounded bird at his dad's side, the fingers of one hand across her lips and a look of horror on her face. She looked between her son and her husband, and her eyes were wide and shiny with tears.
"I'm not arguing with you, Dad, I made my decision." Staying firm, he didn't let one small hint of his feelings filter into his voice. If his dad got one sniff of the f
ear inside him, he would lose the upper hand.
"You have a career, a life here. I won't have you making a mess of either, Liam."
"It's what I want to do." Liam swallowed the anger building inside him, aware his dad had moved from stunned to furious and then to demanding in the space of a minute. "My life here isn't real. I'm not who I am supposed to be. I want—"
"Who you are supposed to be?" Patrick thundered, advancing on Liam, his fists clenched at his side. Liam stood his ground, although half of him wanted to turn tail and regretted even telling his parents what he was planning to do. Maybe he should have grabbed Emma and left without saying anything.
"Liam…please…" His mom's voice was tiny, her other hand now on his dad's arm. Annabelle Wade had strength in her that Liam didn't even think she realized she had. Just the touch of her seemed to slow his dad's temper. She never used that strength for anything more useful than being a good wife and hostess.
"I'm sorry, Momma," Liam started. "I've made my decision. I promise to come home as often as I can."
"Come home?" There was temper emanating from his dad again, resonant in every word. "You're not going anywhere, my boy. Your job is here."
"I resign. The letter is on your desk at the office."
"Wade's don't resign. Being lawyers is in our blood."
"Dad—"
"You are being totally absurd. When I retire, this is all coming to you and your brothers, the house, the partnership—"
"You are not listening to me. I don't want any of it."
"Don't be preposterous. Of course you want it. Is this your way of asking for more money? I won't be blackmailed, boy, with your petty schemes and threatening to leave."
Liam shook his head. Money was the least of his worries, and he was far from trying to blackmail anyone. "I don't need money, Dad—"
"For God's sake, Liam, I don't expect this of you. You were getting married. Your mother had plans. Everything is booked. You could be an important man one day. Damn it, son, I had my eye on the perfect house for the two of you."
Shit, it didn't take long to get to the 'everything is organized and paid for' part, and a house? For God's sake. "Leigh and I have talked. It's for the best. Neither of us wants a marriage of convenience. If it helps, I'll pay for any expenses."
"What will people say?" This came from his mom, who suddenly seemed to realize what the potential fallout of this could be.
"Mom, I'm sorry, but what people say has to be least of my worries." If, for one minute, he allowed himself to think what other people said about him mattered a damn, then he was fucked.
"A year, Liam," Patrick snapped. "For a damn year, your mother has been planning this. Leigh is perfect for you. Her family line is impeccable. There may not be love now, but you like her and she likes you, and you could learn to love her as I did your mother." Liam sighed inwardly. His parents were the latest in a long line of Wades who had married for mutual benefit, but it would be a cold day in hell before he became the next well connected Wade now that he'd seen the light.
"I'm not getting married." Liam tried to repeat the words patiently, emphasis on the word "not." Clearly, Patrick had moved way past the listening stage.
"Okay," Patrick said finally and ever so calmly, "I see what is happening here."
"You do?" Liam felt anxiety twist inside him. What exactly could his dad see? Surely Patrick Wade wasn't privy to the fact Liam had finally decided to come out? Fuck. He wanted to be an entire continent away from his dad before he wrote a letter, or emailed, or even called, when the shit hit the fan. He wasn't sure he was ready to add being gay into the mix here. It seemed enough he'd told his parents the wedding had been cancelled and he was moving away.
"Maybe this marriage is too early for you," his dad pondered carefully. "You clearly need time to get this photography nonsense of yours out of your system. Perfectly understandable, son, I mean I was young once. I had urges." He sniffed at the last word. "What I say is take a year off to play, sow your oats, and then come back here and you can knuckle down." Patrick sounded so smug, like he had every single problem all wrapped up with one sentence. What kind of father did that make Liam if his own dad thought he wanted to go off for random sex and to play at photography? Where did Emma figure in this mighty plan from the great Patrick Wade?
"I have a daughter," he began, but his dad was there, interrupting, not letting him get a word in edgeways.
"You can leave her here with us. If you're ready to have a wife—"
"I am not leaving her here with you. She's my daughter." Wait, this conversation wasn't going the way Liam had planned. Emma was his daughter; no one would be raising his daughter except him. Did Patrick not see Liam loved his daughter? Was it not obvious he wanted to spend every hour he could with her?
"Not by blood, Liam," Patrick said confidently. "Don't worry about it. We can get some papers drawn up, an addendum to the official adoption papers you have, and pass the responsibility for the child to us." This was the final straw for Liam.
"She is not 'the child'. She is your granddaughter. I am moving away with my daughter to concentrate on my photography and to find some part of myself in the mire of shit that I've fallen into."
"Patrick!" Liam was startled as his mom half shouted his dad's name. Wow, her voice actually held passion for a second, horrified passion, but an unrestrained emotion nonetheless. "We love Emma. It doesn't matter whether she is Liam's by blood or not. As far as we're concerned, she is our beautiful granddaughter." She looked up at Patrick, who had the grace to look embarrassed at what he had said.
"Then surely you can see, Momma. I want to be a good father, actually in her life, not some absent person who works all hours. I want to make a home for us, and I need to have a life where I take Emma to school, attend teacher conferences, and watch her school plays."
Patrick snorted. "So take time off—"
"Dad, really, can we leave that now?"
The sudden silence was horribly pregnant with expectation of what level this would be taken to by the senior Wade. Liam knew his dad could either completely lose it, which gave Liam the chance to grab his bags and run, or he could move to the icy calm stage. The direction of the conversation soon revealed itself.
"Maybe Leigh wasn't right for you," Patrick started thoughtfully. "She wasn't the most affectionate of people where Emma was concerned. Maybe I'll have a think on who else might be a suitable match. Then you can stop this nonsense, and we can move on." Great, his dad was going with the icy calm dismissal of everything Liam had said.
"I'm telling you, Dad, there won't be anyone suitable," Liam started, and then immediately wondered why the hell he had said that and hadn't simply said no. His brain was clearly looking for a way to undermine his decision not to share the whole gay thing with his parents.
"Rubbish. I am sure I can find an appropriate match. I know that Groves has a daughter, eighteen, a bit on the plain side, but acceptable. We could get her polished up a bit, and your mother could advise her on—"
"I'm gay." The words fell like heavy stones into water. There was a silence and then ripples of shock that radiated from his father to his mom. "I didn't want to tell you," Liam continued, desperate to make them see that, "but you need to know." Then it all came tumbling out. When the first secret fell, inevitably the rest fell too. "I met someone at the hotel. His name's Micah. He's part owner of a vineyard in Rochester. Dad. Mom. I think there could be something there, and I need the chance to see if he wants to make something good with me and with Emma."
"Liam…" His mom was full-on sobbing now, her bony shoulders shaking as she leaned into his dad. His dad said nothing. Absolutely nothing. As still as a rock, he stood and stared, then his gaze narrowed, and his lips pressed tight. Liam held his breath. He wasn't expecting anything other than shock and derision, and hell, he probably deserved it. Not for being gay, and finally being himself, but for letting his life go this far without being honest with himself as a gay man. Gently, his dad
guided Liam's mother to the sofa and seated her, before sitting himself. Then he gestured to the other sofa, still implacably calm and composed.
"I think you need to sit down, Liam, and let's start from the beginning."
He didn't believe his dad would really ever forgive him. Even as explained about Micah and how he had always known he was gay.
"I'm disappointed in you Liam," his father said.
"I know you are," Liam summarized, "I've never been anything else than one big disappointment."
"I expected more than secrets and half truths." There was no passion in his father's voice, no pleading, just the icy sting of dismissal. "But as to work, we'll be more than fine. I'll move Samuels over to cover your position."
"Will you be asking Samuels to be your son as well?" Liam snapped, immediately regretting lowering himself to sarcasm as Wade senior simply lifted an eyebrow at Liam's impassioned words.
"If you insist on taking your future east to see this man, then I trust you have assessed educational opportunities for Emma in the locale. I know of many wonderful private New York schools that will—"
"Emma will be attending a local school in the Lakes area."
"Your money can buy her a better school—"
"Dad, I have more money in one of my accounts than I could possibly spend in my lifetime. That doesn't mean it can buy anything of worth. I'm not discounting any education, but I want us to try normal for a while."
"Don't be hasty. A good education would give Emma a sound grounding. She has many commitments that will fall to her in her life as a Wade."
"She has nothing except what she makes for herself," Liam argued. "My daughter isn't going to some private school where she learns nothing except how to be a hostess."
"Now you are being ridiculous. Emma should have every opportunity money can buy."
Liam didn't even begin to answer that one. He wanted what was best for Emma, and maybe one day she would go to a private school, but to start off with, he just wanted normal for them both. He said his goodbyes, and didn't really even pack. He simply scooped dolls and teddy bears into a bag, along with the blanket his daughter insisted on sleeping with. After the simple goodbyes and promises to be in touch, he left.