“I didn’t have anyone!”
“I get that. But youleftme.” I opened and clenched afist near my face, trying to hold myself together. “You left while I was begging you to stay. I couldn’t”—I dropped back onto the couch—“I couldn’t keep the lines of communication open. It was killing me, Miranda. When you showed up, I assumed you were there because your credit score sucked so bad you couldn’t get an apartment.” The admission made me feel small. “Which is horrible, but I honestly wanted you to find your own way and leave me alone.”
“But didn’t I say I was pregnant at the department?”
“No, you definitely didn’t.”
“But we talked about the letter.”
“You asked if Igotthe letter. You never repeated what it said. And then you mentioned something about me helping financially.”
“Yeah, because I was about to be a single mom!”
“I didn’t know that though! Try to see from my perspective. I thought you weretherebecause you needed money.”
She shook her head, trying to process. “I can—hardly believe it. How do I knowyou’renot lying?”
She met my gaze, and I stared into those deep brown eyes. Surely, after everything, she could answer that one on her own.
“Do you really have to ask?”
Realization passed between the two of us and it stung. She wanted me to be there. She came back to give us a second chance. I would’ve gone to battle for that opportunity. And she knew it. We both knew it.
Four years. Four years we would never get back.
The thoughts flashing through my head were dizzying—enough to make any man want to go get lost in a bottle. My son, my wife, my stupid ex-whatever-Bree-was. Everything I had stewed over regarding Miranda got obliterated with oneconversation. I had no reason not to believe her and had given her no reason to doubt me.
She pulled her gaze away and silence hung between us. I propped my forehead in my palms and took a few deep breaths. My skin turned damp as rage churned my blood.
Miranda softly sniffled.
Bree cost me myfamily.
My family!
“Miranda—” My voice scraped. “I never—” I swallowed, trying to clear it. Trying to find the words. What to even say? “I never would’ve turned my back on you or Kacey like that.”
She didn’t answer.
“Did—did you ever try again?”
She nodded, her sniffling growing more persistent. “Yes. So many times. I even mailed you pictures of Kacey months later, but they were returned to me. By the post office, I think.”
“I moved. Bought this place.” Silence fell, long and heavy.
Ultrasounds, doctor visits, his birth, first cry, first steps.
All the things I wouldn’t share with my son.
Or my wife.
My chest heaved, my own eyes burning. I pressed my fingers into my eyelids, taking a few shuddering breaths.
Did she become a mom totally on her own? Who helped her? Who was there with them? I was afraid if I asked, she’d say Chris. And if she did, I would lose it.
“Why didn’t you take me to court for child support? That’s what anyone in your situation would’ve done.”
She took three breaths, grasping for stability, before she spoke. “Part of it was money. Paying an attorney would’ve been impossible.” She shifted, dropping her gaze to the blanket again. “The other part was due to my very complicated, very sticky relationship with Chris.”
