“Um,” she began, getting everyone’s attention. “I’d like to thank you for attending today. I’m sure all of…this,” she gestured to herself in the wedding gown and the children, “came as a bit of a surprise to you all.” She glanced back at me before returning her attention to the family. “I also wanted to thank you for welcoming Kyle and Kennedy into your fold. They’re, um, lucky and blessed to have you as their family. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that, she turned and didn’t bother giving me a second glance as she passed through the glass doors into the house toward the front entrance, leaving me to follow.
I looked back at my family, most of whom were smirking at me. Frowning, I turned to follow Patience to the awaiting car.
The fifteen minute car ride from Townsend Manor to our home in Cedarwoods—just outside of the city of Williamsport—was quiet, save for the light snoring of the children.
“I’ll put them to bed,” Patience insisted, attempting to take Kennedy from my arms once the short ride was over.
“You can’t carry both of them.”
She looked at me sharply. “I’ve been doing it for the last five years.”
“And now you’re not,” I explained just as sharply.
She glared at me before turning and going up the stairs to the children’s room. The home I’d had built almost a year ago was close to eight thousand square feet with five bedrooms, four full bathrooms and two half baths, plus additional spaces for a TV room or den, three car garage, and office space. The master bedroom, as well as the children’s separate rooms, were located on the second floor. The same day I found out about Kyle and Kennedy I had interior decorators over here, fixing up their bedrooms.
I passed by Patience as she took Kyle into his room, while I carried Kennedy to her room. I laid her on the Barbie bed the interior designer insisted every little girl would love, and then rifled through one of the dressers until I found a nightgown to put her in. I marveled at the way Kennedy barely stirred as I changed her clothing. Once I tucked her in, she rolled over and her snores grew in volume. I stood and was at the door, shutting out the light, when she turned over and kicked one leg out from underneath the blanket, but remained contently asleep.
“She sleeps like her mother,” I commented under my breath before turning the light out. I moved farther down the carpeted hall to the master bedroom and began removing my tuxedo jacket. I tossed it on the edge of the huge sleigh bed that had obviously been remade this morning, before retrieving a few items of clothing from one of the grey-stained wooden dressers. I glanced over my shoulder as Patience entered the room, pausing as if she wasn’t expecting me to be there. I stared as she moved to the far side of the room, going into her walk-in closet. I didn’t wait for her to emerge. Instead, I moved into the attached bathroom, taking a shower and then changing into a pair of plaid pajama bottom pants and a white T-shirt.
When I emerged from the bathroom, Patience was propped up in the bed, her back against the headboard. I let my eyes skim over the smooth, walnut brown skin of her bared shoulders. She wore a sleeveless silk top and matching shorts, which I saw peeking out from underneath the blanket she had tucked up to her waist. She didn’t even look up at me from her Kindle. A stirring in my groin began and I knew I needed to leave.
After gathering my cell phone and tablet that I placed on my dresser, I headed to the door.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” I didn’t need to say it but it’d come out. Hearing her rustle in the bed, I turned to look over my shoulder.
She gave me a perplexing look. “Y-you’re not sleeping in here?”
“No.” I went to turn the doorknob.
“Why not?” Confusion laced her voice.
“Did you want me to?” I gave her a stern look.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Well then.”
“You can’t blame me,” she defended. “You didn’t want my children five years ago, and now you force me to decide between marrying you or losing custody of th–” Her statement was cut off by my slamming of the door.
“I never denied my children.”
A wrinkle appeared between her wide eyes. “Yes, you did. I–”
“I never knew you were pregnant.” My voice sliced through her argument.
Her face crumpled. “What?”
“She lied. I never knew,” I insisted.
“Then how… She said–”
“She was a fucking liar. And you believed her.” My voice was low, full of the betrayal I felt.
“Ibelieved her? Of course I believed her. I wouldn’t have knownsheeven existed if it weren’t for her.”
My jaw tightened and I gritted my teeth.
“It wasn’t like you told me you had a fiancée. Not until she showed up–” She cut herself off, turning her head away from me.
