Jenna’s relief was palpable. “Thank you. Sam, I know this is–”
“But I need time,” I interrupted. “To figure out how to handle this. I have a life in Willowbrook, a relationship that means everything to me. I can’t just blow everything up without thinking it through.”
Even as I said it, I knew how stupid that sounded. I was already blowing it up. Every minute I kept this from Chloe was another lie, another betrayal. But I’d already come this far. Already driven here, already met Leo. Telling her now would mean admitting I’d lied this morning, lied last night, kept this from her when I should have included her from the start.
I was in too deep to back out now. And that terrified me more than anything.
“Of course. I understand.”
“How long are you staying in the area?”
“As long as I need to. I’ll find something temporary.”
I pulled out my wallet and handed her three hundred dollars - money I’d withdrawn from the ATM that morning, money that would show up on the bank statements Chloe and I shared.
God, I needed to tell her about this. Soon. Before she happened to check the account and saw the withdrawal. Sure, our arrangement had always been that I handled the household admin because her filing system was, generously speaking, creative chaos. She’d happily handed over that responsibility, grateful to have one less thing to worry about. But that didn’t mean she never looked. If she stumbled across a random $300 ATM withdrawal before I had a chance to explain…
“This should help for now. I’ll figure out something more permanent soon.”
Jenna took the money with tears in her eyes. “Thank you. Really. I know this isn’t what you planned.”
Everything I’d thought I knew about the future I had planned had changed in the space of three photographs and one telephone call. “I should go,” I said, standing up. “I’ll call you in a few days when I’ve had time to think.”
“Sam?” Leo looked up from his coloring, crayon still in his hand. “Will I see you again? Can we play sometime?”
The hope in his voice nearly broke me. “Yeah, buddy. You’ll see me again.”
Driving back to Willowbrook, I tried to figure out how to tell the woman I loved that my past had just arrived in the form of a little boy who looked exactly like me.
The engagement ring would have to wait.
But this time, it wasn’t about timing. It was about figuring out how to ask Chloe to marry not just me, but the complications that came with me. Because if Leo really was my son, which I believed he was, then he was part of the package.
And I had no idea if Chloe would be willing to take on a ready-made family she’d never asked for. Not until I laid out the facts for her and asked.
Chloe wasn’t like anyone I’d ever dated before. The women I’d dated before her had been fun but surface-level – we’d havea good time, but there was never depth, never that sense of building something real. Jenna had been intense but temporary, both of us knowing from the start that it had an expiration date. A holiday fling.
But Chloe was real. She was the kind of woman who’d get a call about a sick horse at 2 AM and be out the door in five minutes, half-asleep but fully present. Who’d cry over a dog she couldn’t save but would be back at work the next morning because the animals that could be saved needed her.
I loved that about her – the way she never flinched from hard things. The way she looked at problems and immediately started figuring out solutions instead of spiraling. The way she’d listen to someone’s concern about their pet with complete focus, making them feel heard and understood, even when it was the fifth panicked phone call that day.
I loved how she’d get excited about the smallest things – a bird’s nest in the tree outside the clinic, the first snow of winter, a patient making a full recovery. How she’d text me photos of the puppies in the boarding kennels with captions like “LOOK AT THIS FACE!” in all caps. How she sang off-key in the shower.
I loved her laugh. The way she’d snort if she laughed too hard, then get embarrassed about it, which only made me love her more.
And I was risking losing all of it because I’d panicked and made the worst possible choice. I’d been so sure I needed to handle it alone first. So sure that showing up with answers would be better than presenting her with a problem.
I stopped at the grocery store, going through the motions, grabbing stuff for dinner. I found myself in the flower section staring at pale pink peonies – her favorites, the ones she always stopped to admire but never bought for herself because she said they were too expensive.
I bought two bunches. I’d just given her peonies yesterday for her birthday, but maybe… maybe they’d buy me a few more hours to figure out how to tell her. To figure out how to fix the mess I’d made by not telling her last night when I should have.
When I pulled into the driveway, I sat in my truck for a moment, holding the flowers and hating myself.
I had to tell her everything. Soon. Before this got any worse.
I grabbed the flowers and the groceries and headed inside, already knowing that no amount of peonies would make up for what I’d done.
Chapter 4
