"She told you I died?” I say.
"Yes." The word comes out like something he has to push past. "She called me. Three days after—after I didn't come to the hospital." He holds my gaze and doesn't look away from what he just said. "She called and she said there had been complications. That the baby was gone." He exhales through his nose. "I've believed that for twenty-six years."
The silence between us is enormous.
I don't know what I expected. Guilt, maybe. Some version ofI didn't knowdelivered as an excuse. This is a man sitting across from me with his hands flat on the table and his face completely open, not pretending to be anyone. He looks like something was just broken open after years of being shut.
I don't know what I am to him in this moment.
I pick up my latte. My hand is steady, which surprises me. I drink and set it down and look at him and neither of us says anything for a long time.
Outside the window a woman walks past with a stroller, unhurried, the baby inside asleep with its fist curled against its cheek. James doesn't see it. He's looking at the table. At his hands.
"I don't know why I'm here," I say finally. "I mean I know why. I just don't know what I want from it."
He looks up. "That's honest."
"It's all I've got right now."
He nods slowly. "Then that's enough." He wraps both hands around his cup again. Olive does this. Sydney does it too when she needs something to hold on to. "I'm not going to ask you for anything, Jade. I want you to know that. Whatever this is, whatever you need it to be, I'll follow your lead."
I look at him. The silver at his temples. The open face. The hands around the cup.
"Okay," I say.
He nods again. Neither of us moves to leave.
6
JADE
Phoenix is already home when I get back. His car is in the drive and the front door is unlocked and I can hear him in the kitchen before I see him. I stand in the hallway for a moment with my keys still in my hand and my heart going faster.
I've been carrying this secret around for a week. Tonight, I want to put it down.
Phoenix looks up when I come into the kitchen. He's in the clothes he wore to the office, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and his face has a quiet focus.
"Hey," he says, pulling me close.
"Hey."
He waits. He's been waiting for days and he knows I know it and he doesn't push, just stands at the counter and looks at me with those dark eyes and gives me the room.
"I need to tell you something," I say. "All of it. Tonight."
He sets down whatever he was holding. "Okay."
I sit at the kitchen table. He sits across from me, forearms on the surface, hands loose, giving me his full attention. The kitchen smells like the coffee he made an hour ago.
"There was a man at your parents' BBQ," I say. "James Dupree. When your father introduced him, I heard the name and I couldn't move."
Phoenix is still.
"My mother said it once. I was sixteen,” I continue, keeping my gaze somewhere past him. “She said he didn't deserve to know I existed. When I tried to talk to her about it again, she refused.” I pause and take a deep breath. "I lay awake that night while you slept and went through every detail. The name. The way he smiled at the gate."
"I texted her the next morning. She replied withDon't do this, Jade." I look away. "She didn't say it wasn't true."
I tell him everything. Olive's call. Hawaii. The café. All of it in order, without softening any of it.
