“Tell me it was a nightmare,” I whisper.
“I can’t say it didn’t happen, but I don’t believe it’s a nightmare.” He sets the mug on the bedside table and brings his hand to my knee, but I flinch. I’m uncertain what to feel, and he must pick up on the signs. “I’m so sorry.”
I glance away, choosing not to say anything, but I do listen, and I hear a man whose voice is filled with remorse.
He continues, “Hadley, you have to know that I did what I thought was right. Spencer loves you more than anyone, only ever puts you first, and it wasn’t my secret to share.”
I scoff as fresh tears pool in my eyes, and my stomach twists because his point may be valid. “I have so many reasons to be upset. My da—” Why can’t I say it? I move up the list. “You knew and pushed me away by making me feel like I was nothing.”
“It fucking hurt, trust me.”
“Oh, poor you,” I mock before sliding angrily off the bed, feeling wrath building inside of me, and it’s ready to bubble over. “You know, maybe we would have had something amazing if we didn’t lose those years when you decided the best policy was to treat me like the enemy.”
Connor stands, my words clearly hitting him hard. “I realize that. I can’t turn back the clock, and we will still have something amazing. Iwantto have something amazing with you.”
A sob escapes me because I’m so damn torn between the deceit and the emotion that I feel right now when he looks at me. He believes in his pleading words.
My fingers tangle into my hair as if I’m grasping at straws. It’s frustration. “Connor, I don’t have the strength to deal with you and also my da—” Another sob escapes me.
Connor is in front of me with his hands on my shoulders in no time. “Your dad is still your dad. You know better than anyone that biology doesn’t mean a thing. Look at April, she’s your mom, and you think nothing less. Spencer is even more of a parent because he’s all you’ve ever known, and you are related in some way. Your real dad wanted it like this because they all love you so much.”
I sniffle. I understand his logic, as it floated into my head a few times when I woke during the night. “I just don’t know why he never told me or why he never planned to tell me if it hadn’t been for a stupid science project.”
The pad of Connor’s thumb swipes a tear off my cheek. “Because he only sees you ashisdaughter, and he didn’t want to lose that connection. He was scared.”
I snuggle my cheek into the palm of his hand. “I just need to process it all.”
He nods gently and guides me to muffle my snotty tears into his chest without a care in the world that I’m destroying his shirt in the process. “I’m not going anywhere. You can push me away, but I’ll only return,” he promises.
A new overwhelming flood hits me, with thoughts racing into my head from all directions. I step out of his hold and throw my arms up. “This is such a mess.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
I sneer at the humor in that. “Connor, it is. You and I are married because of a drunk night in Vegas. A night that I don’t even really remember. Do you know how messed up that is? I didn’t even have a wedding dress or a big cake or so many things—”
“But you had the groom who would do anything for you,” he cuts me off, and the glimmer in his eyes is there. It’s more than caring, it’s… dare I say love? I see it for the first time, a gleam of hope and insistence. Maybe it’s always been there, but I only really see it now when I’m trying to cling to anything to keep me from falling.
The bedroom feels smaller as our eyes stay connected, and the thumping of my heart returns. A beacon that maybe one day everything will be okay surfaces purely because of his damn eyes.
It just won’t be okay today.
“How do I pick up the pieces?” I ask softly.
Connor takes one step before he drops to his knees and wraps his arms around my thighs, with his ear resting against my belly. “You let me do it.”
His selfless words strike me, and I run my fingers through his hair. I’m clearly affected but still unsure if what he did is noble or plain fucked up.
Lucky for him, right now, I won’t push him away. It doesn’t mean I’m fully committing either.
We stand there for a solid minute as I try to connect dots. The truth was clearly always there. Little clues that now make sense. It just wasn’t obvious at the time. The lack of baby photos, the photo of my uncle on the mantle, the timeline and story of when he passed away due to an accident, or when my parents had Ashton and it felt like pregnancy was something new for both of my parents. There were signs in retrospect.
The best thing I can do right now is take a hot shower alone. I begin to shuffle out of Connor’s hold. “I’m going to shower. Alone.”
He slowly stands, observing me and doing his best to assess me. Good luck with that, because I don’t even know what I’m feeling or thinking anymore.
* * *
It’san hour later when I emerge from the bathroom in a towel and find that Connor is sitting on the bed with his arms resting over his knees and feet firmly planted on the floor.
