Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
I don’t know what to say to that, so I stay quiet. I’ve heard of women having infertility problems but never men.
“Doctor told me there’d be a one in a million chance I’d conceive naturally. But one day, I got my miracle. Or at least, I thought I did.” He downs the third glass and chuckles but it’s wrong. It sounds raw and broken like there’s gravel in his throat. “Two years and I adored every day with my son. Then I discover my wife is fucking a guy at the station. Turns out, he was the father and they both knew it all along.”
I scramble from the bed. I don’t know what to say, how to make this better for him. But I’m driven by a need to touch him, to offer comfort.
He reaches for the scotch bottle, and I put my hand over his. I’ve never seen Derek drink more than a beer at a time. He’s always the one in control and alert.
“They were waiting until his mother died to collect his inheritance. Then my wife took the boy I’d raised as my own and left. I fought the court system for over a year, went damn near bankrupt. But my former friend had already put the pieces in place to challenge my paternity. They took him from me.” His voice breaks on the final words and I wrap my arms around him, touching the bare skin of his back and resting my cheek on his naked chest.
To my surprise, he lets me hug him. I don’t know how long we stand there together wrapped up in each other. But finally, he says in a soft voice, “Do you want to see him?”
I nod and he pulls out his wallet. My heart breaks as he flips through pictures of a little boy. They start with baby pictures and slowly progress until the boy looks almost old enough to start school.
“My ex-wife still sends me pictures.” He traces the heart-shaped face of his boy.
Seeing the way he tenderly touches the photo fills me with rage at a woman who would do this to him. She knows the boy isn’t his and continues to torment him by sending pictures. I can’t help but wonder if it’s her way of taunting him.
“He’s a beautiful child.”
“They tell me I’m not his dad. But if I’m not his dad, then why is he the first thing on my mind every morning and the last thing I think about before bed? Why am I always wondering if he’s safe and warm and loved? If he’s not mine, why does every breath still hurt so much?”
I want to sob for him and the injustice he’s faced. I want to fix this for him and I’m powerless to do anything but offer a listening ear.
“I don’t think he remembers me,” Derek murmurs and he sounds so lost, so broken.
“You loved your son every day for two years. You showed up and you were there for him. Love like that doesn’t go away. It wraps around him and even if he can’t explain why, I have no doubt that he feels loved every day.”
“You think so?” There’s a little bit of hope in his expression.
I nod and stroke a hand down his chest. “They can’t ever stop you from loving him.”
Without a word, he carries me back to the bed. He sets me down gently and tucks me in. Then he joins me and wraps me in his arms. I drift to sleep in his bed with the feeling that what’s happening between us isn’t wrong at all. It’s very right.
I wake the next morning after the most relaxing sleep of my life. Derek is snoring behind me, and I’m still caged in his arms. He opened up so much to me last night and that has to mean something. Maybe he’ll want to take me out on a date after this. We could go on lots of dates together. Maybe he’d even ask me to move into his apartment one day.
As thoughts of our future together fill my mind, I can’t help smiling. But I stop when I hear the sound of voices outside the door.
Panic fills me. I don’t want anyone to know about this thing between the two of us until we’ve had a chance to talk. I love Cam and Lincoln. They’re like brothers and they’re amazing guys. But I definitely don’t want to hear them weigh in on this thing when it’s still so fragile and new.
Scurrying from bed, I dress quickly and hurry from the room. I make it across the hall and back into mine. By some miracle, I didn’t see anyone. This thing that happened between us is a secret and should stay that way for a little while longer.