His mouth dropped. “No fucking way.”
“Yup. That’s why I let him come by. I knew it would shock the crap out of him. I enjoyed every second of the look on his face.”
“Holy crap. What did you tell him?”
“Oh, I told him the absolute truth: that I’d met an older man on vacation who’d knocked me up.”
“He must’ve shit a brick.”
“Looked like he might have.” I chuckled.
“What happened after that?”
“He left soon after, and I never saw him again.” I shrugged. “But I couldn’t have orchestrated a better way of getting back at him.”
Tate cackled. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter 36
TATE
A month later, Blair and I unexpectedly found ourselves moving into our new place.
We’d been looking for a house in our price range in the same general area as Blair’s place so Nicholas didn’t have to adjust to new surroundings. We also wanted to stay as close to family as we’d been before. Despite everything still being up in the air with Taylor, I didn’t want to be away from him. I was still holding out hope that we could move past this and be close someday.
We hadn’t been planning to move so soon, but a colonial that had everything we’d been looking for came on the market—a large, fenced-in yard for Nicholas and Khloe, a big garage for my truck and Blair’s SUV in the winters, and an office for Blair, something I’d insisted on. She needed her own quiet space in the house where she could escape the madness to study or just be alone. When the property became available, we made an offer the owners couldn’t refuse. And since the house was already vacant, there was no reason we couldn’t move in.
Blair still had some time left on the lease for the house she’d been renting, so a lot of her stuff was still over there. We’d been just casually moving things at our own pace, though we were officially sleeping in the new house now.
Tonight, the three of us were hanging out in our new living room after dinner, with a fire blazing. That was another cool thing about this house. It had a fireplace.
Scrolling through my phone, I found an old photo of myself that my mother had sent recently. In it, I was exactly the age Nicholas was now.
I faced the phone toward my son. “Who’s this?”
He looked down at the photo and back up at me. “Nicholas.”
Blair and I turned to each other and smiled.
“You think so, huh?” I challenged.
He nodded.
“That’snotNicholas,” I told him. “That’s me.”
He shook his head. “Nooooo.”
“Yes.” I pointed to myself. “It’s me.”
“That’s not Mr. T.” He shook his head again. “That’s Nicholas.”
“That’s not me now, but that’s me when I was your age.”
He studied the photo for several seconds, then looked up and practically stared into my soul.
I glanced over at Blair and whispered, “Now?”
Her mouth curved into a smile as she nodded.
