I’m gripped by a pang of longing so sharp that my heart skips a beat, but I push it away.
“Do you want more babies?” Confidence asks and the pain I just dismissed leaps back to life. The pain over Stone didn’t surprise me, I always feel something when I think of him. But this... this does. For a woman who spent more than half her life thinking she’d never have children, it’s jarring to feel a sense of longing when I already have three more than I planned.
Even if I didn’t have my IUD, there’s no chance of me being pregnant again. Marcel and I are irrevocably broken. I haven’t even seen him since I’ve been back.
And as for Stone … I know we’ll never be strangers again. The connection we forged on that trip was real and deep. But it feels like a dream more than anything else. Like it happened in another lifetime.
When I got back, things at home were haywire. back has been one disaster after the other.
Evangeline got into a fight at school the day after I arrived, Martinez had his fifth bout of strep throat this year, and his doctor decided it was time for him to have his tonsils out. And my brother’s disappearing act has become a PR nightmare.
So even though I’ve been home for almost three months, it’s only been a few weeks since things calmed down enough to allow me a moment to think.
I’ve stopped pretending that I didn’t leave a piece of my heart with him. But it doesn’t change the facts of our circumstances. I’ve got more baggage than he deserves to be saddled with. Once he’s here, if he’s even still interested in me, he’ll see how untenable a relationship between us would be.
Then, he’ll meet someone who can live out his globe-trotting adventures with him.
At least I hope so. If he settles here and I have to see him with another woman on his arm, I might have to consider moving.
I don’t know if this is what a schoolgirl crush feels like – I never had one of those. I’m having all of these feelings I used to find silly and fatalistic when I read them in romance novels. I’ve got it bad, right down to the whole “I know I’ll never feel this way about anyone again.”
Only it doesn’t feel silly, because it took me thirty-six years to find him. Those aren’t good odds.
“Regan?” Confidence’s slightly raised, concerned voice startles me out of my daydream.
I flush and pull my hand back from her belly. “Sorry, nostalgia got me.”
“Are you okay?” She’s watching me with a furrowed brow, and I wonder if I spoke some of my thoughts aloud.
“I’m fine, why?”
“It’s just…you looked so sad.” Her frown deepens.
“I’m fine. I just got lost in my memories for a minute.” I muster a smile and sit back in my chair, crossing my legs and forcing my shoulders to relax. “You really popped since the wedding, haven’t you?” I nod at her belly.
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but she lets me change the subject and nods. “More like exploded. People keep asking if I’m having twins. I just tell them um, no, his daddy’s a giant.” She rolls her eyes. But she can’t stop the smile that breaks over her face when she mentions Hayes.
“So, how are you doing? Is it hard with Marcel being gone all the time?” she asks.
My stock answer, “I miss him, but it’s best for our kids.”, is on the tip of my tongue. But I like Confidence and if we’re going to be friends, she’ll learn the truth sooner or later.
“Not at all. It’s actually easier this way,” I answer and instantly feel lighter, even when her smile falters.
She leans forward to grasp my hand, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head to dissuade her. “Don’t be. I’m fine.”
“But—”
“Confidence?” A woman’s voice I don’t recognize calls out to her and she sits up straight, and rests a hand on her forehead, her eyes widen with guilt. “I’m a knucklehead, I forgot Gigi was waiting for me in the car,” she grabs her purse and struggles to her feet just as a dark haired, willow beauty in silk light grey dress walks into the consultation room.
“There you are, I was—” The woman stops mid-sentence when she sees me. Her mouth falls open, her eyes go round like saucers. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.
“Hey, Gigi, I don’t think you’ve met Regan Wilde - Landel.” Confidence walks over to her. Her use of my maiden name surprises me. But, it, clearly, surprises Gigi more. The paper cup she’s holding slips from her hand and lands with a splatter at her feet. Confidence yelps and hops back. I stand to help, but Gigi stays frozen, not taking her eyes off me.
“Is she okay?” I ask.
Confidence glances at me and nods with a reassuring smile. “Noé?” she calls out to Tanaka’s assistant, and slides a protective arm around Gigi’s waist before she leads her from the room, without either of them saying another word.
I sit, barely registering when Noe comes in to mop up the spill. Gigi’s behavior just now was bizarre. I know very little about her. She’s Hayes’ aunt, but was disowned, when she ran with a man her father didn’t approve of. When her brother died, leaving Hayes an orphan, he went to live with her, and she raised him.
But I’ve been very curious about her lately. She was shot when a disgruntled employee went ballistic outside of the Rivers’ business headquarter. And, as far as I know, the last thing Remi did, before he hauled ass out of town, was visit her in the hospital.
She’s rebuffed all of our efforts to talk to her about his visit. And I felt bad harassing an old lady, who was recovering from a gunshot wound, and who probably knew nothing about whatever was up with Remi. But now, I wonder if there’s more there.
I get up and walk out to the reception area to see if I can catch them and maybe get her to talk to me. But when I get there, Confidence is walking back into the salon, alone.
“Where’s Gigi?” I ask, peering over her shoulder to see if I can catch a glimpse of her.
“I told her to go on home. She’s still healing from the gunshot and she’s tired…” Her eyes don’t meet mine and she swallows audibly.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. “What’s wrong?”
She winces and sighs heavily before finally meeting my eyes. Her eyes are bleak. My heart stops. “Has something happened to Remi?” I can barely get the words out and sag with relief when she shakes her head in vigorous denial.
“No, but I do want to talk to you –”
“Mrs. Landel, your phone’s ringing.” Noé calls as he rushes over to us, holding my vibrating purse out to me.
I stifle my irritation at the interruption and take it from him. “You didn’t have to bring it out here.”
“It rang twice already, I thought maybe it was urgent.” A new worry blooms. Eva seems to be settling back into school after her suspension, but anyone calling three times in a row can’t be good news.
“Sorry,” I mutter to Confidence as I fish my phone out.
I let out a sigh of relief when the name Kal flashes on my screen. She’s Remi’s ex… the one who got away. A few days ago, she showed up looking for him. Last time we talked, she thought she had a lead on him and said she’d be in touch. He’s gone off the grid before. But never for this long and never without being in touch at least sporadically. I’ve been waiting for her to call and tell me what, if anything, she’s found.
The call rolls to voicemail before I can answer it. I hold my phone up to Confidence, “I need to take this, one sec.” I sit down in one of the waiting room chairs and call her back.
“Did you find him?” I skip the formality of a greeting when the call connects.
“Reggie?” My brother’s voice rings in my ears.
Wild relief rushes through me. Fear I’ve kept bottled up overflows and anger surges. I cover my eyes with my hands and start to sob. “Remi? Oh my god, is that you?”
“Yes. Hey, Reggie. Don’t cry. I’m sorry” Remi says in a soothing voice that makes my blood boil.
“Don’t you dare
tell me not to cry, you asshole. You better be calling me from whatever hospital you’ve been laid up in - in a coma – unable use the phone for the last six months.” A bone deep fear that I haven’t allowed myself to acknowledge breaks and I yell at him through my watershed of tears.
“Regan. I haven’t been to fucking Disneyland, okay?” he interjects impatiently.
My anger pushes me to my feet. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at me Remington Wilde. You have no fucking right after what you’ve done to my heart.”
“I know, I know. I am so damn sorry,” he groans, but his contrition falls on deaf ears.
“I don’t care if you’re sorry. Tell me where you are and why you didn’t tell me you were leaving. And why didn’t you get in touch??”
“I’m in Burton at a ranch house that used to belong to our father and his wife.”
I go completely still at his grave, cryptic words. “Why are you saying his wife and instead of Mom?” I demand.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I start pacing. When I turn to face the front of the salon, I almost jump out of my skin, when I see Confidence sitting in one of the chairs in front of the large storefront window. Her face is creased with concern.
I’d forgotten she was there; I mouth Remi’s name and press a finger to my lips. Her eyes bug out of her head.
“Remi, answer me!” I bark when he doesn’t say anything.
“Reggie, you should sit down first,” he says in a grave voice.
My heart starts to pound, and I grit my teeth. “Stop trying to manage me and just answer me, right now,” I demand. My finger stabbing the air.
“Mom was his first wife…he had another –"
“What the fuck does that mean?” My voice is so sharp that Confidence jumps.
“If you’d stop yelling and interrupting, I’d already be done telling you.”
I close my mouth and bite back my retort. “Go ahead.”
“Lucas Wilde left Mom for another woman right after Tyson was born. He married her. Moved with her to Burton and started a new life. One day, he left for work and didn’t come back. She presumed he was dead and left too.”
None of that can be true. None of it even makes any sense. A new fear grips me and I turn my back on Confidence and walk to one of the product display stands across the room.
“Remi. Are you in trouble? Is this code for something? Do you need me to call the police?” I ask in a voice quiet enough not to be overheard.
He chuckles, but it’s devoid of humor. “No. Kal found me. I’m at their house. It’s all true.”
I press a hand to the wall to steady myself. “How? I’ve seen pictures of us at his funeral. Tyson was a tiny baby. How could he have gotten married, set up house and died in three months of Tyson being born?”
“Because he didn’t die. That’s what they told us and the rest of the world.”
“Who told you that?” My voice is guttural with anger.
“His wife,” he says flatly.
“You talked to her?” I screech.
“Yes.”
“Who is she? How did she find you?” My head rings like something hard hit it. I reach blindly behind me until I make contact with the chair of the arm and lower myself onto it.
“He left me a letter. All those years ago. He was planning on coming back for us. Regan, they had a child.” My hand flies to my throat as if it can stop the gasp of horror that comes.
“Oh my God.” I sit up straight, my mind racing. “Who is he? And what happened to the kid?”
“Oh God, Regan. Wait,” Confidence calls with a frantic urgency that draws my eyes to her. But she’s not looking at me. She’s typing furiously on her phone, her hands visibly shaking.
“It’s Gigi Rivers,” Remi answers.
The whole world comes to a screeching halt. “What?” croak. My voice sounds far away. All of this feels like an out of body experience.
“Regan, wait,” Confidence cries out again and everything clicks into place.
That look in Gigi’s eyes…. That expression I couldn’t read… it was guilt. She was the last person Remi saw. I stare at Confidence and remember Hayes almost having a panic attack when I asked about Remi in Mexico.
My stomach falls to my toes.
“Who is their son?” I speak into the phone, but my eyes are on Confidence’s bowed head.
Her sorrowful gaze snaps to mine. “Regan, let me take you somewhere private, please,” she stammers. I glance around. Noé is gone. We’re alone. I shake my head to say no.
“Who is his son?” I demand again. Confidence closes her eyes as if she’s in pain.
“Who’s there with you?” Remi demands.
“Is it Hayes Rivers?” I demand.
His silence and Confidence’s muffled sob are all the answers I need.
“Does he know?” It’s a rhetorical question. Because his wife clearly does. My eyes never leave Confidence. She’s sitting in one of the waiting room chairs. Her hands pressed together between her thighs as she watches me with deep, troubled concern on her face.
“Yes, Regan, He knows. He knew before me. I’m sorry. But I need to call Tyson, too and then we’ve got to get on the road. I know I owe you a million apologies and explanations. I was reeling from shock when I first heard. Then I had this argument with Mom, right after. She tried to justify it all—”
“Mom knows, too?” My voice comes out in a wheeze. I can’t breathe.
“She’s known the whole time. Pops, too. Listen, I know I owe you more. But I really need to go.”
I take a deep breath and compose myself…My whole life is unraveling. And I don’t know what to do next.
“That’s fine,” I say in the voice he expects me to use—calm, collected, cool.
“I love you, Reggie. We’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.”
I almost laugh at his use of the word we.
Is there a “we”?
I hang up and face Confidence.
“You already knew?”
Her nod is slow, her eyes sorrowful and downcast.
“I couldn’t say anything because Hayes asked me not to. I’m so sorry,” she sounds so sad.
And, it pisses me off. Why is she sad? When it’s me who’s entire life is a lie. I curl my lip at her. “So, was all of this friendship shit so that you could keep an eye on me for Hayes? To make sure I wasn’t planning on fucking his brother, since it turns out he’s my fucking stepbrother, too?” I yell and Confidence’s eyes nearly bug out of her head, and fill with tears.
Guilt deflates my anger. I’m not mad at Confidence. She’s not the one who betrayed me. “I’m sorry.” I cover my face with my hands and try to catch my breath.
“It’s okay. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling,” she says after a minute. Her voice is soft but guarded. I nod, but don’t meet her eye. “But I didn’t even know about you and… I’m praying it’s Stone… until right now,” she says.
To my horror, a sob breaks loose and a tear streaks down my cheek.
“Can I call someone or take you home myself? I know it’s a lot, but everything is going to be okay.”
Nothing will be okay, but I don’t have the strength to argue. My whole life has unraveled.
In the days to come, all of this will feel like a gust of warm wind compared to the tsunami that will land on our doorstep.
Chapter 34
Opportunity
Stone
“I’ve got some news. Call me when you can talk.”
Hayes’ text is curt and ominous.
My first thought is that something has happened to Regan. Then, I remind myself that if that was the case, he wouldn’t be the one calling to tell me. I’m not surprised she’s the first person I thought of, though, there hasn’t been a night, since I got back to Colombia, that I haven’t dreamed of her.
They’re vivid dreams, all set on that beach in the Sea of Cortez. They alternate between nightmares of me drowning or her disappearing and wet, hot fucking wh
ere my mouth and dick learn every inch of her intimately. I feel them all like I’m living them. I wake in throes of emotions and physical sensations so strong that either my pillow or boxers are wet with proof of how gripped by the dream I was.
And every day, I leave my bed and force all of those thoughts to stay there. And they do. I go through my day in complete isolation from my emotions.
But three months of trying to pretend that I don’t miss her, has left me exhausted.
Something tells me that Hayes’ news, even if it’s not about Regan, is going to force me to call on the same discipline that saw me through the night the first time I lost a patient.
I put my percolator on the stove and walk out onto the small balcony of my apartment.
I stare out at the fog-covered valley I call home. The sun will be up soon, and the small courtyard of our building is already full of the aroma of coffee brewing and bread baking. The city stretches out in a sprawl of churches, and homes and businesses that mingle to create a vista of soaring stone steeples and the red tiled rooftops that are ubiquitous to this area. On the edges of the city, modern residential skyscrapers sit like sentinel barriers of the town and ominously dark Cordillera Oriental, a discontinuous cluster of are part of the Andes range.
The view never fails to steal my breath. This morning, I barely notice it. My attention is still on Hayes’ text. My reluctant spirit slows my movements as I pull my phone out, and with a resigned sigh video call my brother.
He answers on the first ring and his grim face fills the screen.
“Hey, what time is it there?” His dark hair falls in messy waves over his forehead and he pushes it away from his face and rests his head in his hands. He reminds me of the way I felt the first time I had to inform someone that their loved one had died.
“Five thirty in the morning. Sun’s almost up, so your timing is good,” I make small talk, even though my heart is beating out of my chest.
He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“No easy way to tell you this…so I’m just going to say it. Gigi Rivers is my biological mother.”
The Rivals Page 88