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“During that time, I went to my class reunion. It was over the Fourth of July weekend, and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I went.”
“Really? Knowing how you’ve avoided going back to the area so you can’t accidentally run into your relatives, I’m surprised.”
“Yeah, well, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” he said wryly. “Anyway, during that weekend, I met up with Ruth.”
She touched his hand. “I’m glad you had a chance to reconnect with her after high school. Had you heard from her since then?”
“No. Not a word.”
Sara had assumed as much because Cole had never mentioned her, but he was a closemouthed individual and often didn’t mention those things he considered insignificant.
“Then what did the lawyer want?”
“He represents Ruth’s estate. She named me, us, in her will.”
Sara sat back in her chair, surprised. “She did? What did she do? Leave you her box of high school memorabilia?”
She’d expected her joke to make him smile, but it fell flat, which struck her as odd.
“She left us something more valuable than a box of dried corsages and school programs,” he said evenly. “She entrusted the most important thing she had to us. Her son.”
“Her son?” Of all the things he might have said, nothing was as shocking as this. “How old is he?”
“He’s two and a half. His birthday was in April. April 2.”
Surprise and shock gave way to excitement. “Oh, Cole,” she said, reaching across the table to once again take his hand, her heart twisting at the thought of that motherless little boy. “He’s practically a baby.”
As she pondered the situation, she began to wonder why this woman had chosen them out of all the people she possibly could have known.
“Exactly why did she appoint us as his guardians? She never met me and you said yourself that you hadn’t kept in contact with her. What about the boy’s dad? Or her family? Didn’t she have friends who were closer to her than you are? I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m only trying to understand why she gave him to people who are, for all intents and purposes, relative strangers, instead of choosing substitute parents who were within her current circle of friends.”
“She had no family to speak of,” he told her. “Ruth grew up in foster care and as soon as she graduated, she was on her own.”
“If you hadn’t seen her for three years, it’s especially odd she’d ask us to take care of him. There has to be a connection—”
“There is,” he said, clutching his mug with both hands. “But to explain it, I have something to confess.”
Once again, warning bells clanged. “Okay,” she said slowly.
“Ruth and I—that weekend we were together at the reunion …” he drew a deep breath as if bracing himself “… I did a stupid thing. Several stupid things, in fact. I was angry that you weren’t satisfied with our relationship as it was—”
“Just living together,” she interjected for clarification.
He nodded. “I was hurt that after all those years of being a couple, you wouldn’t be satisfied or happy until I put a ring on your finger.”
“Oh, Cole,” she said, disappointed that he hadn’t fully understood why she’d pressed him to take their relationship to the next level. “It wasn’t about flashing a gold band or a huge diamond. It was what the ring represented—a commitment to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“I realized that. Later. But during that first week we were apart, while I was angry and hurt and feeling everything in between, I went to my reunion and …” he took another deep breath “… drank a few too many margaritas. A lot too many.” He paused.
She was surprised to learn that Cole—a man who couldn’t even be classified as a moderate drinker—had over-imbibed. While she wasn’t condoning his action, she figured most people had done so at one time or another. His actions weren’t smart or ideal, but drinking too much on one occasion wasn’t an unforgivable offense, in her opinion, even if at the time he’d been old enough to know better.
“And?” she coaxed.
“When I saw Ruth again—we confided a lot in each other during our teen years—we talked. We both unloaded on each other and she helped me admit a few hard truths—”
“Do you mean to say that your friend Ruth convinced you to propose?” She’d always believed that he’d come to that conclusion on his own. It was disappointing to imagine that he’d been persuaded to marry her not because he loved her but because of a relative stranger’s advice.
“Ruth didn’t convince me to do anything,” he insisted. “She pointed out what I already knew but couldn’t quite admit—that I loved you and couldn’t imagine my life without you—which was why I was so angry and hurt and miserable. And if I loved you, then I had to face my fears and propose.”
Fears? He’d been afraid?
“Wait a minute.” She held up her hands to forestall him so she could sort through his confession. “You’d always said that you wouldn’t marry until you were ready, but now I learn that you were scared? Why didn’t you explain? We could have discussed this.”
“If you’ll recall, we’d tried, but the conversation deteriorated and you walked out.”
She wanted to protest that he could have stopped her, or that he could have called, or he could have done any number of things, but placing blame at this date was silly.
“Okay,” she said evenly, “both of us could have done things differently, but truly, Cole, what were you afraid of?”
“That I couldn’t be the husband you wanted or needed. That our relationship would change. We were doing great just living together and I had this … this fear … that marriage might ruin what we had.”
“How was that possible?” she asked, incredulous. “We’d been living together for two years and dated for a year prior to that. How did you think marriage would ruin—?”
“You forget that the last functional family relationship I was in ended when I was eight. What did I know about how a healthy marriage should be? By the time I started college, I didn’t know if the happy home I remembered was real or make-believe. Do you really wonder why I might be afraid our relationship would change, and not for the better? And when it did, both of us would be stuck in an untenable situation.”
She fell silent as she processed the information. “Okay, I can respect that, but you obviously faced your fears because you found me at my friend’s house and proposed.” It bothered her to think that he could discuss his fears with a woman he hadn’t seen in years instead of with her, but there was little she could do about it now. She only hoped he wouldn’t tell her that at the time asking her to marry him had simply been the lesser of two evils.
“Proposing—marrying you—was the best decision I ever made. Don’t ever forget that.”
His vehemence both surprised and alarmed her. “Okay,” she said warily. “But meanwhile you had your heart-to-heart with Ruth and because you two drowned your sorrows together, she wanted you to raise her child if something happened to her.”
He visibly winced and avoided her gaze. “Unfortunately, we did more than talk and drown our sorrows.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “Oh, Cole. Please don’t tell me that you—That you and this high school friend …”
He nodded, his expression grave. “We slept together. We didn’t plan it, I swear. I didn’t even know she was going to be at the reunion. The combination of everything from my insecurities and alcohol level to Ruth needing her own listening ear all coalesced until events just … happened. I’ve never done anything like that before or since and I regretted it right away. You have to believe me.”
A part of her brain heard his near-desperation, but she was still too numbed by his newest revelation to grant him absolution.
“You should have told me,” she said as her whole body seemed to turn into ice. “We should have had this conversation as soon as you rolled back into town. About your doubts and your … and Ruth.”
“I couldn’t,” he admitted. “I was too embarrassed and ashamed. I didn’t go to my reunion intending to do anything but meet with old friends. After my lapse in judgment—” his voice was rueful “—I knew this news would be devastating and even though we technically weren’t a couple at the time it happened, I couldn’t risk my mistake potentially destroying our future.”
Would she have refused to marry him if she’d known he’d slept with another woman? Knowing how devastated she’d been at the time he’d stormed out after their argument, hearing that would have probably convinced her to count her blessings that he’d walked away.
At this point, however, she didn’t know for certain what she might have done. She might only have extended their engagement until she’d been fully persuaded that he hadn’t entertained second thoughts about marriage, but one truth remained undeniable. He’d taken away her opportunity to choose.
“I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am,” he added. “If I could turn back the clock and live that night over, I would.”
His remorse seemed genuine, but it did little to ease her sense of betrayal. “Sorry that it happened or sorry that you told me?”
He didn’t have to explain, her little voice pointed out. He could have simply let the story stand that they were old friends who’d reconnected during a class reunion. You’d still never know …
“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel regret for my actions,” he said, meeting her gaze. “That’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life.”
The pain in his eyes wasn’t feigned; she recognized that. Unfortunately, his revelation made her question so many things. Had he really wanted to marry her, or had he only asked her because he’d found his courage in the bottom of a bottle?
How many other secrets had he kept from her? He probably had many, because there were so many personal topics he refused to discuss.
And yet, technically, they had severed their relationship, which meant he hadn’t been required to answer to her. No vows had been broken at the time he and Ruth …
But it still hurt to know that he’d fallen into bed with another woman so quickly. Granted, the alcohol and his own anger had contributed to his decision, but still …
Although the truth weighed heavily, she had to give credit where it was due. He’d been a faithful husband for the past three years and he’d been honest when he could have kept this secret forever and no one would have ever known. Yet he’d taken the risk and apologized profusely rather than simply brush off the incident.
Emotionally, she wanted to bristle and remain angry, but logically the incident was over and done with. Walking away from him because of one relatively ancient mistake committed when they’d been separated suggested her love must be terribly shallow if she couldn’t forgive and forget.
“Sara?” he asked tentatively.
She exhaled a long, drawn-out sigh and offered a tremulous smile. “As disappointed as I am, as betrayed as I feel, even though some would say I shouldn’t, I can’t change the past. We’ll leave it there, shall we?”
“Unfortunately, there’s more,” he said.
“More?” she asked, incredulous. “What more can there be? Isn’t this friendship you had—” she chose that word instead of “affair” because she didn’t know if a one-night stand fit the true definition “—the reason why she wanted you to look after her child?”
He didn’t answer at first. “Sara,” he said softly, “Brody is thirty months old. His second birthday came during the first part of April.”
“Yes, you already told me.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do the math.”
She did. Then, with a sinking heart, she knew. The apology on his face confirmed it.
“Oh. My. God. He’s your son, too.”
If Sara’s face had revealed her shock before, now Cole only saw horror. From her sudden intake of breath, the oxygen in the room had vanished with the news, just as it had when Parker Maitland had delivered the same bombshell to him a few hours ago. This news had knocked his world off its axis, just as it had for his wife.
Eternity had only lasted forty-eight hours.
An unholy dread had filled him from that moment on because he would have to explain the inexplicable to Sara. His confession had crushed her, just as he’d suspected it would, and, just as he’d feared, the light in her eyes had faded. Already she stared at him as if he’d become someone she didn’t know.
How ironic to be in this position. After spending his entire life always weighing his options and plotting his course carefully to avoid potential pitfalls, the one time he’d acted impulsively would haunt him for ever.
Oh, he could have ended this earlier without Sara ever being the wiser. He could have told the lawyer that he didn’t want to raise Ruth’s son—and his—and all this would have vanished like morning mist on a hot summer day. Yet he couldn’t build one lie upon another, no matter how enticing the idea was. Untruths always had a tendency to be revealed.
“You had a baby with this Ruth person.”
She sounded dazed, much as he had when he’d heard the news. “Apparently so.”
“Are you certain? I mean, if she slept with you at your reunion, she might have spent time with someone else, too.”
Her faith in him was bittersweet and only made him feel worse than he already did. He, too, had posed the question, hoping there’d been some misunderstanding, but the possibility had died an instant death after Maitland had presented him with undeniable proof.
“She didn’t,” he assured her, hating to destroy her hopes but understanding how the possibility was a lifeline for her to grab—a lifeline that their life wouldn’t be turned upside down so easily. “Maitland gave me a picture of the boy. There’s a strong … family resemblance.”
It was more than a resemblance. The phrase “chip off the old block” came to mind. If he compared photos of himself at that age, he’d think his image had been cut and pasted into a scene from today.
“And she wants you to look after her—your—child.”
From past experience, Cole knew that Sara’s reserved tone was merely a smoke screen, especially given the words she’d chosen. Her. Your child. Underneath her deadly calm was a churning cauldron of emotions held in check by sheer force of will. Cole would have rather seen her yell, scream or throw things, instead of seeing her so controlled.
“She wants us to look after him,” he corrected. “She wanted Brody to have two parents, not one.”
As she sat frozen, Cole hastened to continue. “Apparently, Ruth knew the situation would be … difficult … which was why she left a letter for you to read.”
He dug in the manila envelope Maitland had given him and placed the small sealed white envelope that bore Sara’s name in front of her. Next to it, he positioned Brody’s photograph so that those impish dark brown eyes were facing her.
Sara didn’t move to accept the envelope or glance at the picture.
“Ruth rightly believed you would play an important role in Brody’s upbringing, which is why she stipulated that you also had to agree to take him.”
“And if I don’t?”
He paused, torn between wanting her to refuse and hoping she’d accept the challenge ahead of them. “Then the search will begin for different parents,” he said evenly. “According to Maitland, Ruth hoped that wouldn’t happen.
He and his wife, Eloise, were Ruth’s neighbors and they knew how much she worried about Brody going into the same foster-care system she had.”
“If they knew Ruth so well, why didn’t she appoint them as his substitute parents?”
“Parker is sixty-nine and Eloise is sixty-seven. As much as they love Brody, it isn’t feasible for them to parent a child at their age.” Parker had told him that he and Ruth had discussed this scenario and they’d both agreed that Brody needed younger parents who would conceivably give him siblings as well as live long enough to see him through high school and college.
“Where is he now?”
“He’s with Maitland and his wife at a hotel.” He paused. “Parker invited us to stop by at our convenience tonight. However, he did mention that Brody usually goes to bed at eight and with all the commotion of the past few days, he’s been a little cranky if he stays up later than that.”
The silence in the room became deafening and Cole watched helplessly as Sara rubbed her forehead with a shaky hand. “I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. “I’m tempted to believe I’m dreaming, that this is just an elaborate hoax or a misunderstanding.”
“I know how you feel, but this …” he fingered the photo “… proves otherwise.”
He stared at the snapshot lying on the table, picking out the facial features that seemed to be carbon copies of his own—coal-black hair, dimples, a straight nose and lopsided grin. Yet, even with the proof before him, he was still hardly able to accept that he had a son.
A son.
While he’d been willing to add to their family—someday in the future—knowing he had a son now was mind-boggling. It was one thing to feel guilty about his one-night stand, but quite another to know a child had resulted. He didn’t know if he felt happy or sad, disappointed or excited, but he’d sort through those emotions later. At this moment, the reality had to be addressed, which was, namely, would they accept Brody into their home, or would Brody enter the same state-run children’s services that Ruth had loathed?
He simply couldn’t go against Ruth’s wishes, but her way was filled with pitfalls. Having grown up in a situation where he hadn’t been wanted, he’d always vowed to keep some sort of “escape clause” in his relationships, which was why he’d had so much trouble making a commitment to Sara. But now, if he accepted Ruth’s child, his son, there would be no escape. If he intended to do this, he had to do so with the intent of being in it for the long haul.
This, at least, was the same decision he’d made before he’d proposed. And that had worked out, hadn’t it? he told himself.
