One More Chance: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance

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One More Chance: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance Page 17

by Brent, Amy


  “I did the best I could, for both of you. Even though you don’t think so and even though it hurts, I promise that’s all I tried to do.”

  “I believe you, Ana. I do. But that doesn’t stop it from hurting.”

  Nodding, I turned my gaze back out to the city lights.

  “I want to work on my relationship with my son. I think I deserve that.”

  “You more than deserve that,” I said.

  “But for now, I’m not sure about my relationship with you.”

  “What?” I asked.

  He turned his body toward me fully, and I mimicked his motion. I hadn’t heard him right. He couldn’t have possibly said what I thought I had heard.

  “You don’t trust me. The fact that you can still think you did the right thing by withholding my son from me means that you didn’t trust me. Up until three days ago, you didn’t trust me.”

  “I’ve never not trusted you. This has nothing to do with trust, Tyler.”

  “Then you didn’t love me. Those are the only two conclusions I can reach.”

  “No, they’re not. Are you even listening to yourself? I loved you so much that I committed to raising our child by myself and pushed you away so you could go off and make your dream reality.”

  “You aren’t a martyr, Ana. You made the decision on whether or not you wanted to be a mother—”

  “I had no choice in the matter.”

  “In this world, a woman has choices. Many in fact. And you chose not only to carry Brody, but to keep him. I, however, didn’t get that choice. So, you either didn’t love me enough to tell me, or you didn’t trust me enough with my own decision-making to tell me.”

  It felt like he had punched me in the gut.

  “I want a relationship with my son. Had you told me about him, I would have never left. I would have never abandoned you. I would have done anything I could have done to help you through your pregnancy and to help you raise him.”

  “And in the end, you would have hated us for it, Tyler! Don’t you get that?”

  I could no longer keep my anger in check.

  “You would have spent countless hours helping me with feedings only to fall asleep in your mediocre law classes! You would have dropped out of school and taken a job as a cashier or some shit, debasing yourself and that mind of yours just to bring in money to support us! You would have sacrificed your entire world for us! I didn’t want that for you. Does that not count for anything?”

  My voice echoed off the trees. I yelled so hard my vision tunneled. My head spun. My body felt weightless. I loved him. I loved Tyler. And he was backing away from me. His hands wrapped around my arms to steady me as I forced my tears to stay at bay. I needed to stay strong.

  “That was my decision to make, Ana. That’s my point. You chose the trajectory of my life by withholding information from me. In a court of law, that’s grounds for a mistrial.”

  “This isn’t court, Tyler. This is my life. Your life. Our son’s life.”

  “A life I want to be a part of. For someone who loves me, this was a hell of a secret to keep. And in my eyes, someone who loves another doesn’t keep things like this from them.”

  His hands left my arms, and I listened as his footsteps sounded behind me. I held back my sobs as the glow of the Hollywood sign cloaked my body. I heard his car door open and close. I heard his engine crank up. I heard him inch away, his tires rolling down the road. And as my legs carried me back to my car—away from the patch of grass that seemed to host the most important events in my life—I openly sobbed.

  I loved Tyler, and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to get him back.

  My worst nightmare had apparently come true.

  Tyler

  “Hey there, Tyler.”

  “Hey, Ana. I was wondering if Brody had any plans for lunch today.”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a slow day at the office, and I figured I could take him out to lunch. You know, to talk with him and stuff.”

  “Not me and him?”

  I closed my eyes and sat back in my chair. I had been afraid of hitting this wall with Ana after our conversation last night.

  “Sorry. Um, yeah. He’s free for lunch. He likes that sandwich shop, but I know you don’t like sandwiches. He’s also a fan of that pizza place across town. The one with the play place inside,” she said.

  “I figured we could drive around and he could pick us out a place to eat. You know, make it our place.”

  “Our place. Like the Taco Hut,” she said.

  “Right. Like the Taco Hut.”

  “He doesn't like tacos, so I wouldn't take him there.”

  “Ana.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s just lunch,” I said.

  “Hold on. Let me just—hold on. Brody!”

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Can you come here a second?”

  I chuckled and closed my eyes as the sound of small footsteps echoed over the phone. I listened in as Ana asked my son if he wanted to get lunch with me. The excitement in his voice warmed my heart.

  I wanted to find us a routine we could enjoy, a place he and I could call our own so that whenever we went out to lunch, we went to that same spot. I’d had one of those places with my dad growing up, and I wanted one with my own son.

  “Well, he’s run off to his room to get changed,” Ana said.

  “Then I’ll come by and pick him up,” I said.

  “Just—”

  “Yes?” I asked.

  Ana sighed lightly into the phone before she cleared her throat. “Just have fun. Okay?”

  “We will. I promise,” I said.

  I hung up the phone with Ana and finished up the paperwork I had in front of me. I wanted to have more than just an hour to spend with my son on my lunch break. I filed everything away before I shut down my computer, then slid my cell phone into my pocket and left my briefcase behind. I wanted him to know he had my full attention, and I knew that briefcase might set him on edge. It always had for me with my father while growing up. Every time the briefcase came out, I knew he was about to turn his attention to work.

  Brody wouldn't ever see it when it was just the two of us. Not if I could help it.

  I drove to Ana’s, and the closer I got, the more nervous I became. They were standing outside on the porch, and Ana had something that looked like a seat in her hand. I parked my car and stepped out, my eyes falling directly on my son.

  Holy hell, he looked just like me when I was a kid.

  “I just have to put this in your car,” Ana said, holding up the seat.

  Brody held on to her hand tightly as she set the seat in back.

  “Brody, you remember Tyler?” Ana asked.

  “Hey there, big guy. You hungry?” I asked.

  Brody furrowed his brow before he looked up at his mother, and I wondered what was going on. Ana gave me a wary look before she crouched in front of him. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a hug, and dread pooled in my stomach.

  Maybe Brody wasn’t ready for this.

  “I don’t know what to call him,” I heard him whisper.

  “You call him whatever you’re comfortable with calling him. Okay?” Ana whispered back.

  He peeked out over his mother’s shoulder and released her. She turned and watched him as he approached me. He stopped in front of me and held out his hand. I crouched down and smiled, taking his hand to shake it like we had the first time we’d met.

  “I’m Brody,” he said.

  “I’m Tyler.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I am. Are you? Because we don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. We can drive around or go to the park, or sit on the couch here and talk.”

  “Can we get ice cream?”

  I smiled as he finally dropped my hand.

  “We can get whatever you want,” I said.

  “Ice cream and spaghetti.”

  I heard Ana giggle as my smile grew wider
.

  “Then I know the perfect place. Come on. Let’s get you in your seat.”

  After opening my car door, I watched him buckle himself in. I looked into Ana’s eyes and saw the anxiety in her features, her nervous tears and the way her hands shook against her mouth. Her brow was furrowed and her shoulders slumped.

  She always had worn her emotions on her sleeve.

  “We’ll be back in an hour or two. Okay?” I asked.

  Her eyes whipped to me before she blinked rapidly and cleared her throat.

  “Yep. Yeah. That’s—that’s fine. I’ll be here,” she said.

  Then, my son and I were off.

  He was shy in the beginning. The farther away we got from his home, the quieter he became. I watched him in my rearview mirror as he took in the streets we passed by. I pulled into an Italian restaurant my mother used to love before things had really started going downhill.

  I didn’t want to think about my mother right now, though. I wanted all my focus to be on my son.

  “Ready to go in?” I asked.

  But Brody was hesitant to unbuckle his seat belt. I held out my hand for him to take once he inched his way out of my car, but he looked at it warily. I didn’t want to pressure him into anything, but I wanted to keep him close. The lunch hour was always busy at this place, and I didn’t want him getting lost.

  I got us a table at the back of the restaurant, away from the hustle and bustle of the rushing crowd. That seemed to settle him down a bit.

  “It’s okay. I’m not a big fan of crowds, either,” I said.

  “You’re not?” Brody asked.

  “Nope. I much prefer smaller groups of people. Or my office.”

  “Does anyone come into your office?”

  “Sometimes. But they have to schedule a meeting first, so I always know when they’re coming in and why.”

  “I should do that with my room.”

  I chuckled as the waitress came and set menus in front of us.

  “Welcome to Bella Dare’s. My name is Katie and I’ll be your waitress. Can I start you two off with something to drink?” she asked.

  “I’ll have tea,” I said. “Unsweet.”

  “Do you have milk?”

  “Chocolate and regular,” the waitress said.

  Brody glanced at me, and I threw him a wink before a smile grew on his face.

  “Chocolate, please.”

  “Excellent choice,” she said. “Do we know what we want?”

  “Spaghetti!” Brody exclaimed.

  I laughed as I handed the menu straight back to the waitress.

  “Two plates of spaghetti, please. And he’ll want ice cream for dessert.”

  “Any dessert for you?” she asked.

  “Maybe I’ll steal a bite of his.”

  “Mom does that all the time. You guys have that in common.”

  My eyes fell to my son as the waitress collected our menus. She left to get our drinks, and Brody eased himself back into his chair. The excited boy I had just seen retreated into the shell he most certainly got from Ana. While I saw why people thought he looked a lot like me, there was a lot of her in him as well. The wariness behind his eyes. The deep furrow of his brow. The length of his neck. All of it screamed Ana, and it made me wish she was here with us.

  Then it hit me.

  She must have felt just like this after looking into his face for years.

  “So, your Mom tells me you play sports,” I said.

  “Uh huh. Football and soccer.”

  “What positions do you play?”

  “I’m a goalie sometimes.”

  “What about in football?” I asked.

  “I hit a lot of guys. You know, to protect the one with the ball.”

  “That’s called a running back.”

  “Mom says you play, too.”

  “I did, back when I was younger.”

  “What did you play?”

  “I was a forward in soccer and the quarterback of my football team.”

  “You played quarterback!?”

  “I did,” I said, chuckling.

  “That’s awesome. My daddy was a quarterback.”

  My heart seized at that comment. Daddy. His daddy. It sounded so wonderful coming from my son.

  “Do you like school?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah, especially history.”

  “Really? I was terrible at history. You know who was good at history, though?”

  “Who?”

  “Your mother.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. She tutored me through it in high school,” I said.

  “That’s weird. She’s not very good with dates.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She always forgets what day it is. Like, she’ll wake up and think that it’s Friday when really it’s only Tuesday.”

  I laughed and shook my head as Brody shot a quizzical look my way.

  “We all do that sometimes. It’ll happen to you one day, too,” I said.

  “But yeah, I really love history.”

  “What part about it do you like so far?” I asked.

  “Well, we were talking about the presidents that did all the things with the outside.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, the parks. They passed laws for the parks so no one could mess them up. I like that. I want to go see them someday.”

  “Ah, the national parks.”

  “Yeah! That’s the name.”

  “You know, some national parks let you camp in them. Maybe we could go camping sometime,” I said.

  “That would be so cool. I’ve never been camping.”

  “Doesn’t shock me. I don’t think your mom would like it.”

  “We camp in the backyard.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Yeah. She got us a little tent, and she’ll put it up and we have sleeping bags and a DVD player that runs off batteries. She makes us snacks and everything.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “You wanna camp with us next time?”

  “I’d really like that,” I said.

  When I asked him about his favorite parks, he described all the animals and flowers he had learned about in history class, apparently. It seemed he enjoyed learning about the parks more for the outside content than he did the actual history, which only made me more excited. I loved the outdoors. Hiking, camping, swimming in lakes and playing in streams, fishing.

  I could take my son fishing.

  It was amazing how well-spoken and well-mannered Brody was. When the waitress brought our drinks, he thanked her. When he was done eating his spaghetti, he asked her if she was hungry and wanted some. He even offered more of his ice cream than was necessary so I could have another bite.

  He was kind, and generous. He had such a big heart and a smile to match.

  Just like his mother.

  Ana had done a really good job of raising him so far. Then again, I’d never had any doubt about that. But guilt settled deep in my stomach. I hadn’t been there for my son, for her, for her pregnancy.

  As Brody ate his ice cream, I wondered what it had been like for her to endure that alone, o grow and change and have a child, all at eighteen years old. To find out she was pregnant before she had even graduated.

  Had I done something to push her away before all that had happened? Had I done something to make her think I would have left had I known she was pregnant?

  “Mr. Tyler?”

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Do you like Mom?”

  “I think she’s a wonderful woman, yes.”

  “No, I mean like—”

  I watched him search for the right words, knowing good and well what he was asking me.

  “Do you like her like Grandma and Papa like each other?” he asked.

  “You mean do I love your mother?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I do.”

  “Does she love you?”

&
nbsp; I turned that question over in my head before I answered.

  “I think she does, yes.”

  “So does that mean we’re gonna be a family?”

  “It means I’m going to try to make sure we’re the best family we can be.”

  My son’s face fell, and it caused an ache in my heart.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I thought you’d live with us now, since you’re back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mom said that you left so you could get smart and then come back for us.”

  “What else did Mom tell you about me?”

  “That you are awesome, and smart, and funny. And that we are a lot alike. And that you went to a hard school and were the smartest person there.”

  “What do you think about all that?” I asked.

  His brow furrowed just like hers did whenever she thought hard about a question. It was adorable, and the love I already had for this little boy grew exponentially in that second.

  “You know you can talk to me about anything and it’ll stay between us,” I said.

  “Really?” Brody asked.

  “Really.”

  “I don’t want Mom to get sad.”

  “I’ll make sure she won’t get sad. Okay, buddy?”

  “Mom said you went to go get smart, but one time I heard her crying in the kitchen about a mistake.”

  “You heard her crying?”

  “Yeah. She does that. In the shower, or the kitchen. I sit down in the corner so she doesn’t do it alone.”

  He was an incredible young boy.

  “Sometimes I hear her say things that are really confusing.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Like ‘I should do better,’ or ‘did I do the right thing?’ One time she said ‘I wish you were here,’ but I don’t know who she was talking to.”

  I knew who she was talking to. I hadn’t thought my heart could break anymore, until it did.

  “I think that I want to have a daddy, like my friends have. But I don’t want it to hurt Mommy. I’m scared that if I want a daddy, she’ll cry about that, too.”

  “Come here, Son.”

  I held my arms out to Brody, and he raced into my arms. I held him close, burying my nose in his hair. He smelled like a mixture of me and her, like our blood rushed through his veins. I heard him sniffling into my shirt and I closed my eyes, trying to stay strong for him.

 

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