“I feel like I’m two different people,” I admitted.
She adjusted her position on the sofa. “How so?”
“I’m Taylor’s father, trying to figure out how to protect him from my actions. But sometimes, I’m also Tate...just a man who’s been reunited with his dream girl.”
“How come you never came looking forme?” she asked. “You could’ve gotten my name and contact info through the resort, even if yours wasn’t traceable.”
I’d been waiting for her to ask this. I sighed. “I had myself convinced that you’d chosen to not look back, and had maybe even thought better of your decision to sleep with me.” I shrugged. “Looking you up, when the ball was in your court, felt intrusive. I didn’t want to interrupt your life. Since you never reached out, I believed separation from me was what you wanted.” I shook my head. “Obviously, if I’d known what was really happening, I would’ve made a different decision. It’s hard for me to fathom that I was out there somewhere having a mediocre day while you were giving birth to my child. It seems like I should’ve sensed the world shifting or something.”
“When I first looked into Nicholas’s eyes and saw you, I felt even worse that you didn’t know about him. It was hard seeing you in him each and every day.”
Damn. My eyes watered. “I guess the thing that makes this situation so difficult is also a blessing, right?Because if I wasn’t Taylor’s father, we might never have reconnected.”
“I know,” she whispered.
She then scrolled forward and showed me some of Nicholas’s baby photos and videos. It was nearly too much to take: his little angelic face, his rosy cheeks, that adorable, toothless grin. One video nearly did me in: he was about a year old and wouldn’t stop giggling every time Blair jumped out in front of him. She said he’d had his first real belly laugh that day. Such a happy baby, blissfully unaware that one half of him was missing.
As I checked out a Christmas photo of Blair holding Nicholas up as he sat on a shopping-mall Santa’s lap, I shook my head. “I still have so many questions.”
“Ask me whatever you want,” she said.
“Where were you when you went into labor?”
“I was in line at Target.” She chuckled. “My water broke, and I called my mom to come meet me. We drove to the hospital together. He was a week early.”
“And how was the labor itself?”
“It was twelve hours. Not as bad as some women have to go through. He was born at three in the morning.”
“Your mom was there the whole time?”
“Yeah. She was the only person I wanted in the room with me.”
My chest ached. “I would’ve wanted to be there.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Would you have let me come in the room?”
“Of course. You’re his dad.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hold your hand.”
“Well, giving birth was the easy part,” she pointed out. “It was the weeks after when I could’ve used you.”
“Tell me what it was like after you got home.”
She played with some lint on the couch. “Those first couple of weeks took a lot of getting used to. The breastfeeding wasn’t easy, but we eventually got the hang of it. As each week went by, itdidget smoother. He was just such a good baby. Much like he is now, easygoing. I’m very lucky.”
“He gets the easygoing part from you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my mother always told me I was a little tyrant.”
She smiled. “Did you tell your mother the news about Nicholas?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I plan to this week. What about you?”
