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She tossed her clutch on the couch, then kicked off her shoes and fell back against the cushions, exhaling the pressure that had been working up inside her chest since she’d left the hotel.
Mitch was alive! She still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. So many emotions, so many questions. What did this mean? Did she carry through with the divorce? Did they try to fix their marriage, in light of Leo? And why hadn’t she told him he was a father?
Guilt and anger walloped her. Yes, she should have told Mitch right away. But after learning he hadn’t called her immediately to let her know he was safe and alive, a selfish part of her had held back. She’d tell him later when she went to Wyatt’s house to talk to him, but back there at the hotel? She couldn’t. Her pride had made her mute about their son, along with the residual hurt that produced reservations about revealing the truth.
“Mom?” she called again. When she didn’t receive an answer, she hauled herself up and walked to the back of the house, sure to find her mother holed up in her studio. The southern exposure of light was an artist’s dream. Perfect for when Samantha was creating a new piece.
“Hi, Mom.”
Samantha never took her gaze from the canvas as she dabbed paint on the project before her.
“Is Leo okay?”
“Of course.” Her mother paused to glance briefly at Zoe, then back to her piece. “Why are you home early?”
“We need to talk.”
Samantha went still. She didn’t like dealing with real-world problems, preferring to let Zoe or an assistant take care of her life. Dealing with critical issues, like Mitch returning from the dead, were not her forte.
“Can it wait?” her mother asked, already looking for a way to avoid the conversation.
“No.”
“Let me just get this last shade...”
While she finished her task, Zoe roamed the room, thinking of a way to break the earth-shattering news.
Samantha laid down her palette and brush, then wiped her hands with a paint-spattered towel. “Are you going to explain why you’re home? Trouble with Tim?”
Poor Tim. He’d been just as shocked to see Mitch. Barely spoke on the uncomfortable ride to the house she shared with her mother.
“No. Well, yes, but not what you think.”
Her mother grimaced. “I knew this dating thing was too soon. You aren’t ready. He’s not right for you.”
Except, he had been. Until less than an hour ago.
“Mom. I don’t know any other way to say this without just blurting it out.” She took a breath. “Mitch is alive and here in Cypress Pointe.”
The color fled from her mother’s pretty face.
“But... How?”
“I don’t have all the details. Apparently, he was in some kind of accident and lost his memory. He was badly hurt and, until recently, unable to travel home.”
“Where is he?”
“At Wyatt Hamilton’s house.”
Her mother tossed the towel on the table. “We have to go get him. Despite your troubles, he should be home.”
Zoe reached out to grab her mother’s arm as she started to leave the room. “No.”
“Why not? He’s your husband.”
To say she’d been caught off guard when she saw him standing on the hotel deck was an understatement, but it didn’t mean an automatic reconciliation. Mitch was the father of her child, yes, and she had to figure out how to handle that, as well as the repercussions of him being back in her life. She could blame her confused emotions right now on the hopes and dreams of the couple she’d just married; it was making her vulnerable and lowering the wall she’d erected when she and Mitch had separated. At least, she desperately hoped that was the case.
Zoe rubbed her temples. “I know.” But it was so much more. Did she dare open her son’s life to a man who would rather wander the world without a shred of responsibility for the needs of a family? Was Mitch clueless or still only thinking about himself and not how his actions affected others? “First of all, Mitch needs continued medical attention. He looks terrible.”
The image of her once-robust husband was overshadowed by her new reality. Mitch had lost weight. The button-down shirt and jeans had hung from what used to be a muscular frame. And his beautiful wavy brown hair? Gone, revealing fresh scalp scars under the buzz cut.
“All the more reason he should be here where we can take care of him.”
“I understand you want him here, but I can’t. Not yet.”
Her mother gasped. “How can you say that?”
“Mitch didn’t call us, Mom. He contacted Wyatt, instead. Did what he wanted instead of what was right. Clearly, he hasn’t changed.”
Uncertainty strained her mother’s features. “He must have had a good reason.”
“Said he wanted to tell me he was alive in person.” Which on the surface made sense, but it was just one example on an ongoing list of ways Mitch always made decisions that suited him, not them.
“Well then, he was looking out for you.”
Maybe. “I need time to process all this.”
“So, what, you can push him away again?”
Zoe clenched a tight rein over her anger. Once again, her mother was not on her side.
It had always been like this. Samantha and Mitch were like peas in a pod. Artistic. Spoke the same creative language. She’d always felt like the odd one out, never fitting into her mother’s world, left out of an important part of Mitch’s.
Her mother never understood why she and Mitch had problems, even though Mitch knew early on in their relationship that Zoe didn’t want to leave Cypress Pointe. She hadn’t kept it a secret from him, and it hadn’t become an issue until his career began to take off and she was more involved in town activities. He at least tried to humor her, asking her to tag along, even though in time, a chasm formed between them. But Samantha never seemed to consider Zoe’s side of things, just like she’d never shown motherly concern when Zoe had been grazed in the upper arm by a bullet. Hadn’t worried about the scars that might form because her daughter had witnessed and been caught in the cross fire of a bank robbery. Samantha had been too preoccupied readying for her first major art show. Zoe could take care of herself, her mother reasoned, just like she’d always done.
“You may not like my decision, but Mitch is my husband. I will deal with the situation as I see fit.”
Samantha leaned against the wall. Crossed her arms over her chest. Her expression revealed she knew she wouldn’t win this particular argument.
As if just thinking of it, her mother asked, “What did he say when you told him about Leo?”
“I haven’t yet.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
Zoe swallowed the guilt rising in her throat. “I...I was going to, but he looked worn out. I didn’t want to shock him with the news until he’d had a chance to rest.” To her ears, it sounded like a lame excuse, but it was all she had. Just like Mitch, she’d withheld important information affecting their lives. What did that say about the state of their relationship?
“What if he hears about Leo from someone else?”
It shouldn’t be a problem. She’d passed Wyatt in the hotel just before she’d left, asking him to please keep news of Leo a secret until she could tell Mitch herself. He’d agreed, but by the scowl on his face, she recognized his displeasure. Didn’t matter, really. This was her call to make.
“What are you waiting for?” her mother said. “Get changed.”
She turned to leave the room, then stopped and faced her mother. “I know you don’t agree with my decision, Mom, but please, respect it.”
Her mother’s eyes grew moist. “I do. We’ve been given a miracle. Make that two, with Leo.”
Zoe would have loved to hug her mother right then, but years of resentment stopped her. When she’d learned Zoe was pregnant, and then of Mitch’s subsequent death, her mother had finally broken free of her self-absorption. When Leo was born, Samantha had transformed into the caring and present parent Zoe had always longed to have. It confounded her, but she was unable to deny that she was ecstatic Leo had a grandma, even if she’d never been a mom.
Stopping in the living room to grab her shoes, Zoe made a detour to Leo’s room. The cutie lay on his back, breathing lightly, his lion blankie wrapped around his legs. Placing her shoes on the floor by the crib, she gently untangled the blanket and ran her fingers over his downy soft hair, then his warm cheek. An intense rush of love took her breath away. Leo was her child. Hers to protect, even if it was from his own irresponsible father. She’d do anything to keep her son safe. Would never let Mitch hurt Leo like he’d hurt her.
Leo moved in his sleep, settling into another position. Zoe watched him for a few more minutes, then tiptoed from the room.
A few minutes later, she changed into a short-sleeved T-shirt, denim capris and sandals. Before leaving her room, she gathered up a framed picture of Leo to show Mitch. She also had way too many pictures to count saved on her cell phone. He could scroll through her gallery to view dozens of other shots. She tossed the frame in her purse and went to the living room to retrieve her phone from her fancy clutch bag.
Before leaving, she returned to the studio. “Mom, I’m leaving.”
Samantha stood by her paint rack, studying a tube of paint. She glanced up, clearly startled.
“Make sure you deliver the news to Mitch gently.”
“I will.” Zoe bit the inside of her cheek. “You have the baby monitor turned up, right?”
“Yes. Leo will be fine.”
Zoe backed out of the room. The less they talked would probably be for the best.
Fifteen minutes later, Zoe sat in Wyatt’s driveway. She should have gotten out of the car already, but nerves kept her in place. Could she do this? Really, she had no choice. Mitch deserved to hear about his son from her. But telling him made this new twist in her life real. They were connected forever, no matter the state of their marriage. What would this look like now? Would Mitch want them to live as a family? Would he take off again because, let’s face it, he saw each job as an adventure, that might once again cost their family? Cost Leo his father?
Only one way to find out. Heaving in a breath, she opened the door and stepped into the early twilight. Hooking her purse strap over her shoulder, she forced herself to walk around the side of the house to the screened-in porch. Sprawled out in a lounge chair, Mitch was watching boats coming in and out of the marina.
She approached softly, so as not to surprise him, but he’d already half risen from the chair.
“Don’t get up,” she rushed to say.
He sank down quickly. “Thanks. My leg gave up working for the day. All the traveling has finally caught up with me.”
The lines on his face showed his exhaustion. His stiff shoulders suggested he hid a lot of pain. “Sure you’re up to this?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time with only my thoughts for company, so yeah, whatever you have to say, I’m up to it.”
She dragged a chair closer to his.
“My mom was overjoyed to hear you’re alive.”
“Not upset I didn’t call?”
She frowned. “Upset with you? When did you ever do anything to make her angry with you?”
Her bitter comment ushered a silence over them. In the distance, the clanging of a buoy rang in the dusk and the chugging of an idling boat engine sputtered nearby. The scent of diesel gas made her nose wrinkle. The temperate evening seemed to close in on her.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Zoe. Clearly, you have something to tell me and I can guess what it is. You’re seeing that guy from the wedding and you want me to sign divorce papers.”
“What? No.”
Trying to come up with the right words escaped her. She dropped her purse on her lap and took out the framed photo. Held it to her chest against the tight band threatening to cut off her breathing.
Mitch pushed up straight against the chair back. “Zoe?”
“I tried to find you, I really did, but it was like you’d fallen off of the face of the earth.”
He frowned. “And I already explained that was my doing.”
“Yes, but I want you to know I tried.”
Leaning forward, Mitch stared her straight in the eye. “Tell me.”
She swallowed, pulled the frame from her chest and stared down at her son’s precious face. Met Mitch’s gaze again.
“We have a son. His name is Leo.”
Chapter Three (#u0e90e2ff-c19c-58c0-b7c7-b9ed57ff5b2d)
OF ALL THE things Zoe could have surprised him with, news of a son shocked Mitch to his core. Especially after all the trouble they’d had trying to conceive.
Fingers shaky, he put all his willpower into calming them before hesitantly taking the frame she offered, unsure why he was afraid to look down.
“We tried for years,” he said, mostly to himself, attempting to make sense of her news.
She shrugged. “I can’t explain it. I only know we have a child.”
He angled the frame so he could see the picture. A boy, his eyes bright, mouth curved in a toothless smile. He had a child? His breath lodged in his throat as the reality looked back at him.
“This was taken a few months ago. He’s gotten some teeth in since then.”
Mitch marveled at the pride in Zoe’s voice. Yes, she’d pushed long and hard to have a child. Thought a baby would fix the problems between them when the reality of each miscarriage only made things worse.
“Why didn’t you tell me at the hotel?”
An expression that looked suspiciously like guilt flashed over her face. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
“To the news of my own child?”
“You weren’t exactly on board with the whole baby idea.”
True, he hadn’t been at first but with each disappointment, the distance between them had continued to grow and deepen.
He studied the image again, using his professional eye. Definitely taken in a studio; he could tell by the backdrop. Good lighting. Nice angle. Clear contrast. Professional.
