35
TYLER
WE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT and late into the next morning, waking up at hour intervals no matter how grumpy Stella was about it.
Sleeping naked proved to be convenient by the time we decided to get up for good, me rolling her onto her back and plying her sleepy body with my fingers and tongue until she was turned on enough to take me. I’d rocked into her slow but deep, committing the sound of her little gasps to memory, loving the way her pussy clenched down on my cock whenever I pulled back, like she was desperate to keep me inside her. All my time studying people for tells came in handy as I learned what she liked, what she loved.
The way her thighs shook around me when I hit a certain spot, the way her breath caught when I brushed my thumb over a nipple.
I made her come twice before I let myself, and afterward I carefully settled my weight down onto her while she held me close.
Eventually, we found the willpower to get out of bed and cleaned up. I’d only booked the room for one night, and Stella probably couldn’t afford to be gone from work for more than a day or two. She hadn’t said anything, but I knew she must have lost money from how much she had to cut back on hours because of me. Just another reason to be pissed off at myself.
There was no way to go back and change how I’d behaved, so I’d have to find some way to make it up to her, maybe intercept Runa’s medical bills or take a page out of Junior’s book and secretly pay off her mortgage.
“Do you mind if we stop by the cemetery?” I asked as we packed up.
“It’s on the way back, and it’s been a while since I visited.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Stella said. “And I’d like to come with you, to see her, if that’s okay. But I understand if you want time alone, too.”
I shook my head. “No. I want you there.”
Together, we checked out and got back on the road, driving forty minutes south before taking the exit for the sleepy little lakeside village that Mom had always loved. The church was small and humble, but the white paint was fresh, and it had a nice view of the water. I led Stella to the top of the hill where Mom was buried, glad to see that the flowers by her headstone were still fresh and making a mental note to text Mr. Ansel a thank-you.
“Mom, this is Stella,” I said. I knew she wasn’t still around, knew she might not even be able to hear me from wherever she might be, but it always felt right to talk to her. “She has very kindly not murdered me despite the fact that I gave her several good reasons to.”
“It was touch and go there for a while,” Stella said, speaking straight to the headstone like she didn’t think it was weird at all.
We stayed there for an hour, Stella eventually wandering away to give me some alone time, and when I was done saying my goodbyes, I knew what I needed to do next. My mother wasn’t around to tell me what happened all those years ago, but my father still was.
I threaded my fingers through Stella’s as we walked back to the car, grateful that I didn’t need an excuse this time, recognizing that I’d spent the last month constantly looking for reasons to touch her.
“Is it okay if we make one more stop before I drop you off?” I asked, holding her door open for her.
“Sure,” she said, sinking into the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”
“To see Richard,” I said. “I can go alone, but … I’d rather have you there.”
Her expression softened. “I’ll go with you.”
Night was falling by the time we made it back from our road trip. I expected Richard to live in some sky-top palace, or on a grand estate like Stella’s parents, but she directed me to a neighborhood right in the heart of the city. It was still a nice neighborhood, the streets lined with private brownstones, the landscaping immaculate, but it wasn’t even close to the most expensive in the area, and that surprised me.
“He lives here?” I asked.
Stella snorted. “Now who’s the snob?”
“No, I just mean, he could live anywhere. Why here?”
She shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him that yourself, but he’s always been pretty private.”
Easier to get away with being a fucking asshole when there aren’t any eyes on you, a dark thought bubbled up.
Shit. I was obviously still harboring a lot of anger toward this man. Was I really ready to face him? Maybe it was too soon, and I should give myself more time first.
Stella touched my shoulder, her voice soft, obviously sensing my hesitation. “We don’t have to do this.”
I shook my head. “No, I want to. The sooner I can start piecing together the truth, the better.” Speaking to Richard was the right move, the starting point I needed to regroup and decide where I went from rock-fucking- bottom.
I dragged in a deep breath as we exited the car, and together, we took the stairs up to Richard’s front door. He met us there, Stella having texted him that we were on our way.
“Hey, you two,” Richard said, pulling the door open. He was dressed in dark slacks and a white button-down.
A knee-jerk wave of anger rose within me at the sight of him, but I quashed it. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said, shutting the door and following us into the wood-paneled foyer. “And I have to say, I’m curious what you want to speak to me about. Stella was vague on the details.”
Stella looked from him to me, and I could see the silent offer of help written on her face. I gave her a subtle head shake, telling her I had it, and she stepped close, wrapping an arm around my waist in a show of support.
I refocused on Richard, finally admitting to myself how much we looked alike, letting myself see all the things I’d been ignoring. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. His jawline. His hairline.
I cleared my throat. “My mother was Meg Neumann.”
Richard paled and took a step back. “I thought I was going crazy.” His eyes raked over me. “I thought I’d spent so much time trying to find her that I was starting to see pieces of her everywhere I went, even her features in strangers’ faces. The first time we met, I took one look at your eyes and almost asked if you knew her, because they’re exactly the same as Meg’s.”
Yikes. That wouldn’t have gone well.
“You weren’t imagining things,” I told him.
He eyed me the same way I’d eyed him a moment ago, as if comparing all our similarities. “Are you … mine? My son?” he asked, and the hopeful note in his voice, paired with his sincere expression, was like a knife to the gut.
“I am, but I can take a DNA test if you’d like.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need it. I mean, we should do it for record purposes, but, god, you look just like us. Just like a child of ours would.
And … Meg? Is she here, too?”
The knife twisted deeper. “No, she’s …” I took a deep breath. “She passed nine years ago from ovarian cancer. I’m sorry.”
His eyes glassed over, a broken note entering his voice. “No, I’m sorry.
This is all my fault. Please. Give me a chance to explain.”
I nodded. “That’s what I came here for.”
Stella held my hand while he led us to the living room. My head spun. It wasn’t like I’d been expecting a huge blowup with the man—he was so even-tempered and laid-back the other times we’d interacted—but his easy acceptance still jarred me. Maybe because this was so different from all the confrontations I’d imagined. The way I’d planned to laugh in his face when I told him I was the cause of his downfall, the way I’d hoped he’d plead, beg for my mercy, just for me to tell him I didn’t have any.
He lifted a hand, gesturing Stella and me toward a couch, and I noticed the fine tremble in his fingers, the color on his cheeks, the moisture gathered in his eyes. The news of my mother’s passing had torn this man apart, and he was barely keeping it together.
Fuck.
How had I been so wrong about everything?
Stella and I sat. Richard dropped into an armchair opposite us, took a deep breath, and told us what had happened. Between his lack of tells and the brutal way he didn’t spare himself, I believed him, believed this was the real story. He described meeting Mom, admitted that he knew he was in trouble from the first time she smiled at him. He even recognized the age gap, saying that while she was naïve in some ways because of how she’d been raised, she was also such an old soul because of what she’d been through with her family.
His marriage was already over by that point; he and his wife just hadn’t filed the paperwork because they both knew how messy it would be. Mom had been a breath of fresh air for him. Open, honest, guileless, so different from most people he knew. He promised himself after meeting her that he wouldn’t go back to her café, because she deserved better than a thirty-five- year-old married man who couldn’t make her any promises.
He lasted a week before he returned, and even though he told himself that it would really be the last time, every lunch break from then on found him at Meg’s table.
“I should have immediately told her I was married,” he said. “I’m not proud that I didn’t, and I’m not making any excuses for myself. At the time, I doubted anything would develop between us. I was convinced she was sweet to me because that’s how Meg was with everyone. She was the kindest person I’d ever met.”
I squeezed Stella’s hand, and she shifted closer to me on the couch.
Richard went on to describe their whirlwind romance. From his side, it sounded more like she was the one who swept him off his feet, his goofy smile making it clear that he’d been gone for her. Still, he thought maybe it was just a fling, that Meg would meet someone younger, more handsome, more available, and break up with him. It didn’t happen, and the day he realized he was falling for her, he told her about his wife. By then, they’d finally filed, but he knew it would be months if not years before they were able to fully untangle all their assets. Mom forgave him—too easily, he said —and told him she was willing to wait.
So they carried on their relationship. By that point, his soon-to-be ex- wife was seeing someone, too, and Richard, thinking it would be okay, brought Mom to a few smaller gatherings, meant for close friends. Friends he’d cut off after the way they’d treated her. Only the McCormicks had welcomed Mom with open arms.
My face heated, thinking how quick I’d been to damn them alongside Richard, assuming the absolute worst.
Richard said he’d been shocked when Mom got pregnant, because they’d been so careful, and he didn’t react well. He told her he needed a few days to sit with the news, a choice he deeply regretted.
“It took me a day,” he said, “to pull my head out of my ass and realize I’d be the luckiest man on the planet to have a child with that incredible
woman.” He waved a hand, gesturing toward the room. “I put down a deposit on this place on day two, because Meg loved this neighborhood so much. I spent day three trying to pick out the perfect engagement ring because I knew I wanted to marry her as soon as I was legally able to.”
His grin was rueful. “I called her on day four, but her phone had been disconnected and her apartment was empty. That was the moment I realized how badly I’d messed up. How badly I’d been messing up. But it was too late. She’d waited for me for so long, I just assumed she’d wait a few more days, and that was my mistake. I’ll never forgive myself for taking her kindness for granted.”
I almost begged him to stop talking, not sure how much more I could endure. So much of his story aligned with my mother’s, but where they diverged was what broke me. Mom had lied to me my entire life. This man wasn’t responsible for her downfall. She was. She was the reason I grew up the way I did, why we endured such hardships. How could she have possibly thought that was the better choice? It made me wonder if she’d ever questioned her decision, was ever tempted to return to the city to find Richard.
Why the fuck didn’t you? I wanted to scream at her. If she had, she might have lived. If she had, I might have grown into a different person. A better person. A man deserving of someone as incredible as Stella.
Instead I was a shell, empty now that my misguided vengeance plan had disintegrated.
Richard blinked and seemed to come back to himself. “I tried to find you both. For years. And while I knew about Meg’s childhood, it wasn’t until after she left that I realized she’d never even told me the name of the town she was raised in. Another selfish mistake on my part. I should have asked.
I should have begged for every single piece of information she was willing to give me.”
His words mirrored my own feelings of regret toward Stella, and I untangled our hands so I could wrap my arm around her shoulders, just to remind myself that she was still here, and, unlike Richard, I’d been granted a second chance.
“What …” his voice broke, and he coughed to clear it. “What happened?
After she left?”
Funny, after all the years I’d spent wanting to ruin this man, now that I had my chance, I couldn’t do it. With everything he’d confessed, I realized the truth would ruin him, learning that Mom had turned him into a villain with the hope it would keep us apart. It was the only cruel thing she had ever done, and it must have gutted her.
Why, Mom? I wondered again and again, knowing I would never get an answer.
Instead, for the first time in memory, I chose kindness. “You weren’t why she left. Or at least, not the whole reason. Mostly, she wanted me to have a normal childhood, because she thought growing up with wealth might negatively impact my development. She returned home and continued to waitress until she got sick, raising me as best she could.”
Richard rubbed a hand over his face. “Did she ever get married? Have more children?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t think she ever really got over you.”
He swore and stood, his hands on his hips as he took a few steps away, trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. “You should know, I never got over her, either. It’s why I don’t really date. Why I stayed in this brownstone all these years. I kept hoping that maybe one day I would find you both and make everything right, or at least get the chance to meet you and apologize to your mother.”
“She would have taken you back,” I said, knowing it was the truth.
Guessing it was the reason she’d forced herself to stay away.
Richard returned to his seat. “How are you? How was your childhood?
What was your favorite subject in school? I want to know everything.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not trying to overwhelm you. It’s just that I’ve been looking for you for so long, and this is all very surreal. Let’s start with an easy question. How long have you known I’m your father?”
“Since the beginning,” I told him. “But I didn’t think you wanted to meet me.”
“Well, I think I’ve cleared that up, at least.”
I nodded, my heart in my throat. Yes, he’d certainly done that.
He glanced from me to Stella. “Wait. How do you two know each other?”
I opened my mouth to fabricate some answer, but Stella beat me to it.
“He came into my tattoo parlor one night and convinced me to bring him to a few parties. And no, at the time, I didn’t know he was your son. I just found out last night.”
Richard frowned. “So you two aren’t together?”
Stella and I spoke at the same time. “It’s complicated.”
He lifted his hands. “Understood. Sorry for prying. I’m just trying to wrap my head around all of this.”
“I’m sorry for the deception,” I said, realizing I meant it.
“How long have you lived in the city?” Richard asked.
“Four years,” I told him.
We spent the next two hours together, answering each other’s questions.
I didn’t outright lie, but I did skirt the truth about my childhood and how hard Mom’s life had been after she left him. Unfortunately, Richard wasn’t an idiot, and though he didn’t come right out and say it, I could tell he knew there was more to the story than I was letting on.
I struggled to process the conversation. It was too unexpected, too unreal. All my life, I’d hated this man, and here he was, leaned forward in his seat, laser-focused on me, actively listening, wanting to know everything he could and seeming like he was more than ready to accept whatever role in my life I was willing to offer. It made me feel like an even bigger bastard. Because I didn’t deserve his acceptance or faith.
Up until yesterday, I’d been hell-bent on destroying him.
“Can I visit Meg sometime?” he asked. “I’d like to pay my respects and say goodbye.”
“Yes, absolutely,” I told him, because it was clear that Stella wasn’t the only person I needed to make amends with.
“Would you … like to come?” He grimaced. “Sorry, if this is awkward.”
“It’s not. And I can take you to her. Help you break the ice.”
He smiled, lines creasing the corners of his eyes. “Thanks, it’s been a while since we’ve spoken.” His smile slipped, and he dropped his head into his hands. “Oh, god. Meg.”
His shoulders shook with a silent sob, and Stella shot me a heartbroken look and crossed over to him, sinking down on the arm of the chair as she hugged him.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her eyes welling up.
I stayed where I was, not wanting to intrude on his grief. Yes, I was his son, but I had no right after what I’d almost done to him.
Nothing was settled before we left—everything was still too new, too raw. But Richard and I did make plans to meet at Mom’s gravesite in the coming week, and I was sure we’d talk more then.
Afterward, I drove Stella back to her shop.
“Can I stay?” I asked. “With you, I mean. Just for the night. I, uh, don’t
really want to be alone right now.”
“Yes,” she said.
I sighed in relief. “I’ll go park the car.”
“Okay.” She opened her door to get out but paused, turning back to me.
“I’m proud of you for how you handled that. For how kind you were to Richard.”
“Thank you. It felt like the right thing to do.”
She leaned over, gave me a brief kiss, and slipped into the night.
