“Like you, when my father introduced me to Felix James and told me I was to marry him or lose everything, I looked at the groom-to-be with possibility. Maybe we could make a decent life together. He was nice to look at and had this…charisma, I called it. Obviously Felix was dedicated to making my father happy and providing well for us. I didn’t entertain the thought of saying no. My dad was my only family, and I’m not going to lie. I liked the type of life his business provided for me. I was into fashion, and fashion wasn’t cheap.”
I remembered her gargantuan closet in the Dragonfly Heights house I’d grown up in. It was filled with gowns of every color, everyday clothes in the finest fabrics with the most exclusive labels. Her passion had spilled over to me back then. Not surprising when you consider I wore designer duds as an infant. Now the idea was ridiculous, but high fashion, designers, and the trendiest of outfits were a way of life in the James household.
“I was young,” my mother continued. “Naive. Stupidly hopeful. I expected better treatment than Felix could ever give me. After a grand, beautiful wedding, it went downhill fast. He was controlling and selfish. His needs were first, second, and third. But he was a master at saying the right things at the right time, not to mention showering me with extravagant gifts to make up for the bad times. But twenty months in, I found out he’d been unfaithful repeatedly. With multiple partners. Sleeping around was his favorite pastime.”
I wasn’t surprised in the least, though I’d never had proof. “But you stuck around?”
“Eventually I did one better. I had a fling of my own.”
My brows shot up because I hadn’t expected that. I’d never heard or seen any hint of my mother stepping out on my father. “Did he catch you?”
She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Instantly she sobered and met my gaze. “He found out when I told him I was pregnant.”
I tilted my head in confusion.
“That’s when he informed me that he was unable to father any children.”
My job dropped open as my thoughts went into a spin cycle.
“Felix James is not your biological father, Magnolia.”
Chapter Seven
Magnolia
I stared at her, waiting for the punch line, but my mother had never been a joker. “How… How sure are you?”
“One hundred percent positive. Felix is sterile due to an untreated childhood infection. I didn’t know that prior to my pregnancy.”
“Who…?” I leaned forward, elbows on my desk, head propped in my hands, as if holding myself up could counteract the immense blowing up of my reality, my entire identity.
I wasn’t Felix James’s daughter?
“Who is my father?” I asked.
“His name was Jimmy. He was in town for a long weekend. Felix was out of town on business, and I confess my objective was revenge for all the times he’d been unfaithful. Jimmy and I spent an unexpectedly magical, unforgettable thirty-six hours together.” Her voice had gone slightly dreamy, and a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “He knew my situation. We both knew it was a one-time thing. We never exchanged last names.”
I sat there frozen, my mouth hanging open as I tried to process everything. My brain moved in slow motion. “So that makes me…a bastard?”
“I’m sorry, Magnolia.”
I laughed. For real laughed. “That’s… That’s actually the best news ever.”
I shared no blood with the manipulative, controlling snake, Felix James. None of his toxic DNA. For the past two years plus, I hadn’t even had any of his money, with the exception of my eleven-year-old car. I was finally free of the man, save for the psychological damage I was still working through.
My laughter quieted, but my grin didn’t fade. I considered taking out the champagne from the drink fridge and popping the cork. My mother, however, still had a grave, heavy expression on her face. This wasn’t the right time or person to celebrate with.
I took a swallow of my water instead, my mind reeling. “That explains why he’s always seemed to hate me. Because he does,” I said almost gleefully.
“Felix James doesn’t hold affection for anyone but himself,” my mother said. “With you, I believe he resented you from the day you were born, and I’m sorry for that too, Magnolia. You never deserved that.”
No, I didn’t deserve that. No child did. Only through weekly therapy appointments had I figured out how deep the damage from my father went. From both of my parents actually.
I’d believed I wasn’t lovable. I was still undoing that damage, still working on my self-worth. It took a lot of time and effort to undo thirty-plus years of programming. I’d been working with my therapist, Jolene, on loving myself for more than a year, with affirmations, meditations, journaling, and more. She was helping me learn to be kind to myself, to take care of myself in ways I never had, like eating better, treating my body better, and catching negative self-talk and flipping it around. I was a work-in-progress.
And now, in the course of a twenty-minute conversation, my life, my messed-up psyche, made sense like it never had before.
“It helps to know that,” I said, less jubilant and more reflective. Another thought occurred to me. “If he knew you were carrying someone else’s child, why did you stay in your miserable marriage?”
