by Naima Simone
Her words haunted him, lacerated him...indicted him.
But goddamn, he’d been crystal clear that he hadn’t gone into this arrangement for love. He’d been more than upfront that he’d wanted to save the Wellses and her from an ugly custody battle. To protect Baron from any future health risks that a custody suit could inflict. To provide for Aiden. To unite the boy with his father’s family. And everything he’d done—the engagement, the dinner with the Wellses, the DNA test—had been to work toward those ends.
He’d never lied. Never had a secret agenda.
He’d never asked for her love. Her trust.
When you let people in, they leave. He’d learned this lesson over and over again.
Isobel had left him.
Like his parents.
Like Faith.
Like Gage.
Anguish rose, and he bent under it like a tree conceding to the winds of a storm.
She’d begun to hope. Well, so had he.
In this dark, closed-off room, he could admit that to himself. Yes, he’d begun to hope that Isobel and Aiden could be his second chance at a family. But just when he’d had it within his grasp, he’d lost it. Again. Only this time... This time didn’t compare to the pain of his marriage ending. As he’d suspected, Isobel had left a gaping, bleeding hole in his world. One that blotted out the past and only left his lonely, aching present.
A knock reverberated on his study door, and Darius jerked his head up. Before he could call out, the door opened, and Baron appeared. Surprise winged through Darius, and he frowned as the older man scanned the room, his gaze finally alighting on Darius behind his desk.
With a small nod, Baron entered, shutting the door behind him. Darius didn’t rise from his seat as Baron crossed the room and lowered himself into the armchair in front of the desk.
“Darius,” Baron quietly said, studying him. “We’ve been trying to contact you for the past few days, but you haven’t answered or returned any of our calls. We’ve been worried, son.”
The apologies and excuses tap-danced on his tongue, but after taking another sip of bourbon, “Isobel left. Her and Aiden. They left me,” came out instead.
Baron grimaced, sympathy flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, son. I truly am.”
“Really?” Darius demanded, emitting a razor-edged chuckle. “Isn’t this what the plan was from the moment I announced my intentions to marry her? Trick her into complying with my proposal long enough to order a DNA test. And once the results were in, take her son and free me from her conniving clutches?” he drawled. “Well, you can tell Helena and Gabriella it worked. Congratulations.”
He tipped his glass toward Baron in a mock salute before downing the remainder of the alcohol.
“I’m sorry we’ve hurt you, Darius. I truly am,” Baron murmured. “Their actions might have been...heavy-handed, but their motives were good.”
“Why are you here, Baron?” Darius asked, suddenly so weary he could barely keep his body from slumping in the chair. He didn’t have the energy to defend Helena and Gabriella or listen to Baron do it.
Baron heaved a sigh that carried so much weight, Darius’s attention sharpened. For the first time since the other man had entered the room, Darius took in the heavier lines that etched his handsome features, noted the tired slope of his shoulders.
Straightening in his chair, Darius battled back a surge of panic. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay? Is it Helena? Gabrie—”
“No, no, we’re fine.” Baron waved off his concern with an abrupt shake of his head. “It’s nothing like that. But I...” He faltered, rubbing his forehead. “Darius, I...”
“Baron,” Darius pressed, leaning forward, bourbon forgotten. Though his initial alarm had receded, concern still clogged his chest. “Tell me why you’re here.”
“This isn’t easy for me to say because I’m afraid to lose you. But...” He briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them, a plea darkened the brown depths. “I can’t keep this secret any longer. Not when the reasons for keeping it are outweighed by the hurt it’s inflicting.”
The patience required not to grab Baron and shake the story from him taxed his control. Darius curled his fingers around the arm of his chair and waited.
“On Thanksgiving, you told Helena and Gabriella about Gage and Isobel’s marriage. That he’d been cruel, abusive and faithless. Everything you said...” He dragged in an audible breath. “It was true. All of it. Their marriage was horrible, and Gage’s jealousy, insecurity and weakness were to blame.”
Shock slammed into Darius with an icy fist, rendering him frozen. He stared at Baron, speechless. But his mind whirred with questions.
How do you know? Why didn’t you say anything to your wife and daughter?
How could you not say anything to me?
“How?” he rasped. “How do you know?”
Another of those heavy sighs, and Baron turned away, staring out the side window. As if unable to meet Darius’s gaze.
“Gage told me,” Baron whispered. “The night he died, he told me the truth.”
“What?” Darius clenched the arms of his chair tighter. If they snapped off under the pressure, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
Baron nodded, still not looking at him. “Yes, he found me in the library that evening and broke down, confessing everything to me. Isobel had demanded a divorce, and he’d been distraught. I’d barely understood him at first. But as he faced losing Isobel and Aiden, he’d come to me, horrified and ashamed.”
Baron finally returned his attention to Darius, but the agony on the older man’s face was almost too much to bear.
“My son... He was spoiled. Yes, he had a big heart, but Gage was entitled, and the blame for that rests on Helena’s and my shoulders. He’d defied us by marrying Isobel but hadn’t been prepared for the separation and disapproval from his family. Hadn’t been ready to live on his own without our financial resources. But instead of faulting himself, he blamed Isobel. Yet he loved her and didn’t want to let her go. So he’d alienated her from us physically and with his lies of mistreatment and infidelity. He admitted he lied about the cheating, but at some point he’d started to believe his own lies. Became bitter, resentful, jealous and controlling. It transformed him into someone he didn’t know, someone he knew I wouldn’t be proud of. Who he’d become wasn’t the man I’d raised him to be. And I think that’s why he confessed to me. His shame and guilt tore at him, and in the end it drove him out into the night, where he crashed his car and died.” Baron swallowed, his voice hoarse, and moisture dampening his eyes. “Do I think Gage killed himself that night? No. I don’t think it was intentional. But I also believe he was reckless and didn’t care. He just wanted the pain to stop.”
Air whistled in and out of Darius’s rapidly rising and falling chest. A scream scored his throat, but he didn’t have enough breath to release it. He squeezed his eyes shut, battling the sting that heralded tears. Tears for Isobel’s senseless suffering at her husband’s and family’s hands. Tears for the man he’d loved and obviously hadn’t known as well as he’d thought. Tears for the agony of conscience Gage succumbed to at the end.
“I’m sorry, Darius,” Baron continued. “Sorry I lied to you, to Helena and Gabriella. Gage didn’t ask me to keep the truth a secret, but I did because I couldn’t bear causing them more pain on top of losing him. Even if keeping the secret meant standing by while Isobel was villainized. I made a choice between protecting his memory and protecting her, and now I realize my lie by omission is hurting not just my wife, daughter and Isobel, but you, a man I love as a second son. I can’t continue to be silent. I can’t allow her to be crucified when she’s been guilty of nothing but falling in love with my son. Both of my sons.”
Trembling, Darius shoved to his feet, his desk chair rolling back across the hardwood floor. He pressed his fists to the desktop, w
restling against the need to lash out, to rail over the injustice and torment they’d all inflicted on Isobel.
Stalking across the room, he tunneled his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands and pulling until tiny pinpricks of pain stung his scalp.
“You’re going to tell Helena and Gabriella the truth,” he demanded of Baron, who’d also stood, silently watching him.
“Yes,” he murmured. “I planned on doing it today, but I felt you deserved to hear it first. Darius.” Baron lifted his hands and spread them out in a plea of mercy, of surrender. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Darius laughed, the sound crackling and brittle with cold fury. “Sorry doesn’t give her back the years where she was abandoned, left to raise a child on her own. If you knew Aiden was Gage’s, why didn’t you help her?”
“Gage said he believed Aiden was his, but I didn’t know for sure. And she’d refused the paternity test, which deepened my doubts. And honestly, I hated her after Gage’s death. I wanted her to suffer because I no longer had my son. I didn’t want any reminders of him around—and that included her and a baby that might or might not have been Gage’s. It was selfish, spiteful. Yes, I know that now, and I don’t know if I can forgive myself for it. Gage told me I’d raised him to be a better man. But I don’t know if I did.”
Darius clenched his jaw, choking on his vitriolic response.
Helena and Gabriella might not have known the truth, but their behavior toward Isobel since she’d reentered their lives had been spiteful, hurtful. So unlike the gracious, kind, affectionate women he’d known for over a decade.
And he’d excused it.
Which meant he’d condoned it, just as Baron had.
Grief and searing pain shredded him.
He’d told Isobel he would never leave her out to dry. Throw her to the wolves. But he’d done it. He’d broken more than a contract. He’d shattered her trust, his word.
His concern had been about betraying the Wellses, when he’d ended up betraying and tearing apart the family he’d created, the family he’d longed for—with Isobel and Aiden. The roar he’d been trying to dam up rolled out of him on a rough, raw growl. Every moment they’d shared since the night of the blackout bombarded him.
Laughing together in the hallway.
Sharing the stories of his parents’ death and Gage in the dark.
Touching her.
Her fiery defiance in her apartment.
Her surrendering to the incredible passion between them.
Her quiet dignity as she confessed about her marriage.
Her resolute pride as she admitted she loved him, but could, and would, live without him.
Jesus.
He slammed a fist against the wall, the impact singing up his arm and reverberating in his chest. He’d marched into her apartment, self-righteous and commanding, accusing her of being deceptive and manipulative, when he’d been guilty of both to maneuver her into doing what he wanted. He’d entered their agreement acting the martyr. When in truth she’d been unjustly persecuted. It’d been he who’d entered their relationship without clean hands or a pure heart.
She was the only one—out of all of them—who could claim both.
And he loved that purity of heart. Loved that spirit and bravery that had looked at all the odds stacked against her and plowed through them one by one. Loved the passion that had stealthily, without his knowledge, thawed and then healed the heart he’d believed frozen beyond redemption.
He loved her.
The admission should’ve knocked him on his ass. But it didn’t. Instead it slid through him, warm and strong, like a spring nourishing a barren field.
He loved her.
Maybe he’d started falling from the moment she’d coaxed him out of his panic attack with talk of movies and Ryan Reynolds. No doubt he’d fought his feelings for her, but if he were brutally honest with himself, the inevitable had occurred when she’d embraced him and assured him his love for his friend—her abusive husband—wasn’t wrong.
A weight that had been pressing down on his shoulders lifted, and he could breathe. He could suck in his first lungful of air unencumbered by the past. Turning, he faced Baron. Darius loved him. But if it came down to a choice between him, Helena and Gabrielle, and Isobel and her son—their son—then Isobel and Aiden would win every time.
“I’m going to go find my family,” Darius said.
His family. Isobel and Aiden.
From the slight flinch of Baron’s broad shoulders, the emphasis hadn’t been lost on him.
“I don’t know what this means with you, Helena and Gabriella in the future. Maybe after you tell them the truth, they can find it in their hearts to forgive Gage and let the past go, including their hate of Isobel. But right now, that’s not my issue—it’s theirs and yours. If they can’t, then we won’t be a part of your lives. And that includes Aiden. I won’t allow them to poison him, and you can inform them that if you continue in the pursuit of custody, I’ll stand beside Isobel and fight you.”
Darius pivoted and strode out of the study without a backward glance, steady and determined for the first time since Isobel and Aiden had left.
He had his family to win back.
If they’d have him.
Sixteen
Isobel pushed open the front entrance to her mother’s apartment building, shivering as she stepped out into the cold December air. Her arms tightened around Aiden for a second before she set him on the ground.
“You’re okay?” she asked, kneeling next to him and making sure his jacket was zipped to the top. “Warm?”
Aiden nodded as she tugged his hat lower. “See Darry?” he asked, his eyes wide, hopeful.
A dagger of pain slipped between her ribs at his expectant question. Just as it did every time he asked about Darius. Which was at least five times a day since they’d moved out of the house. At least. Aiden missed Darius, and to be honest, so did she. It’d been a long week. One where she forced herself not to dwell on him every minute of the day. She only succeeded a quarter of the time.
She smothered a sigh, shaking her head. “No, baby,” she said, crying inside as his little face fell, the sparkle of excitement in his eyes dimming.
He didn’t understand that they were no longer living with Darius, that he would no longer be a permanent part of their lives. And it crushed her to hurt and disappoint her son. Darius had called a few times, but as soon as she saw his number, she’d passed the phone to Aiden.
Hearing his voice, talking to him—she wasn’t ready for it yet. Didn’t believe she would still have the courage and determination to say no if he asked her to return home.
Home.
She’d constantly told Darius his house wasn’t hers, but somewhere along the way, she’d started thinking of it as home. And she missed it. Missed Ms. Jacobs.
Missed him.
“See Darry,” Aiden whined, tears pooling in his eyes. His bottom lip trembled.
She hugged her son tight, as if she could somehow squeeze his hurt and confusion away. “I know, baby. But right now we’re going to see the lights and animals at the zoo, okay?”
She’d kept Aiden—and herself—busy with outings. They’d visited the Children’s Museum at Navy Pier, the Christmas tree at Millennium Park and the model trains at Lincoln Park Conservatory. And now they were headed to Zoolights at Lincoln Park Zoo. Yet, during all the trips, she couldn’t help but imagine how different they would be if Darius had been by her side. As a family.
Standing, she forced the thoughts away. Yes, she loved Darius. Maybe she always would. But he didn’t return the feeling, and there was no getting past that.
They weren’t a family.
“Good,” she said, injecting cheer into her voice for Aiden’s benefit. “Let’s go—”
“Darry!” Aiden’s scream burst
in the air seconds before he yanked his hand out of hers and took off across the tiny courtyard.
“Aiden!” she yelled, but her footsteps faltered, then jerked to a complete stop as she took in the man stooping low to catch her son and toss him in the air before pulling him close for a hug.
And the love on that face as he cuddled Aiden... It stole what little breath her baby’s mad dash away from her hadn’t.
Darius.
Oh, God. Darius. Here.
Stunned, she watched as he kissed Aiden’s cheek, grinning at whatever Aiden chattered about. Joy, sadness and anger filled her, and heat pulsed in her body at the sight of him. The wind flirted with his hair, and her fingers itched to take its place. Hair that just passed the five-o’clock shadow covered his jaw and emphasized the sensual fullness of his mouth. A long black, wool coat covered his powerful body. But she remembered in vivid and devastating detail what was beneath it. She craved the strength of it at night.
Darius shifted his attention away from Aiden and pinned her with that golden gaze. The intensity of it snapped her out of her paralysis. Still, her feet wouldn’t move, and she stood, immobile, as he approached her, carrying her son in his arms.
“Isobel,” he said, and she worked not to reveal the shudder that coursed through her at the velvet sound of her name.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. Damn it. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “What are you doing here, Darius?”
Sighing, he lowered Aiden to the ground, and turning, pointed in the direction of the curb where his town car idled. “Aiden, look who came to see you.”
The window lowered, and Ms. Jacobs popped her head out, waving to him. Shrieking, he ran to the car, and the older woman opened the door, scooping him up. In spite of the emotional maelstrom whirling inside her, Isobel smiled. Aiden had asked about her only slightly less than he had asked about Darius.
Rising, Darius slid his hands into his coat pockets. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want him to overhear our conversation.”
“No. He’s missed her,” she admitted softly. Shifting her gaze from the ecstatic pair back to him, she murmured. “You, too.”