“So, she admitted it?” I asked.
He laughed derisively. “Her response was ‘Of course, I did,’ like that was a normal thing to do. I’m sorry for that Serena. That doesn’t mean I’m over what you did, but I have a better sense of why you made some of the decisions you did.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m his father. You can’t make decisions for him regarding my mother without me. Not anymore.”
“Yes, of course.”
He sipped his wine and stared off as if thoughts of his mother were rambling around in his brain.
“Devin?”
“Hmm?” He looked at me but I wasn’t sure he was seeing me.
“I really am sorry.” I pressed my hand over my heart. “I know the words aren’t enough, but I wish I’d done it differently.”
He pursed his lips. “Do you wish you’d avoided me? Turned down the job of doing the anniversary party?”
“I can’t deny that at first I wanted to keep you away, but now, if I could do it over, I’d have told you at the beach that first time.”
“You had many opportunities.”
I looked down into my wine. “I was trying to find a way where I could tell you and keep you too. But there was no way. I’d accepted that. I was going to tell you the night after the flight. And yes, when you said you wanted to make love, I chose that because I was sure it would be the last time. That was selfish of me.”
“So, all that time you were pushing me away, it was because of Andrew?”
I hated to admit it out loud because it sounded so awful. “I didn’t want to. I wanted you, but I was afraid of losing you. It was wrong. Not just to you but to Andrew too.” Shame and guilt overwhelmed me, and tears flowed. “I thought I was a better person.”
“I thought so too.” He set his wine down and stood. “Thank you for the wine. I’ll be in touch about seeing Andrew again.”
I sniffed and rose to walk him out. “You know where to find us.”
As he walked out the door, he stopped. “Oh, thank your mom for the recipe. I’m thinking of suggesting it for the menu on St. Patrick's. Would she be okay with that?”
I smiled. “She’d love that. But you have to use mutton. It’s not the same without it.”
He gave me a small smile. “I’ll let the chef know that.”
As I settled into bed last night, I felt good about Devin and I co-parenting Andrew together. He was hurt by my actions and not likely to forgive me, but he was able to push his personal anger at me aside for Andrew. Since Andrew was the most important part of this equation, I had to be happy with that.
28
Devin
There had been a minute in Serena’s living room where I’d nearly taken her into my arms. She’d started to cry, and even after what she’d done, it tore me up inside. How had I gone from wanting her to feel like shit for what she’d done to hoping she could forgive herself and move on? Maybe because I believed her. In her shoes, I might have made some of the same choices. Was she selfish? A little bit. But I also believed she genuinely worried about Andrew. And with good reason, as it turned out.
After breakfast that morning, Bri took Andrew to play and I had it out with my mother, but she didn’t budge on her position. Was it simply because Serena wasn’t the right social status that she hated her? Or that I hadn’t been with the woman she picked? Or maybe my mother was just a bitch.
Aside from having fun with Andrew, I noticed that my father perked up some as well. My father tried to teach Andrew chess, and later Andrew taught him Go Fish. Why couldn’t my mother be like a normal grandparent?
Over the next week, I called Andrew every night through Serena’s phone. After I said goodnight to him, Serena and I would talk. The first couple of nights, it was a short conversation, usually around Andrew. But then one night we somehow got off-topic, where I was telling her about my challenges in running the business. When we hung up, I realized we’d been on the phone for nearly two hours. The next few nights were the same, until Andrew came to stay with me on Saturday.
On that night, she called to say goodnight to him, and then she and I talked again for an hour. By Wednesday the following week, I found myself looking forward to our chats, and going so far as wanting to see her. She was everything that I’d remembered from five years ago and even when I first got back. Funny. Smart. Sweet. Down to earth. Sexy.
Last night, I woke in the middle of night with a raging hardon dreaming about her. My dick was so hard, I had to grab a tissue and jerk him off. What was I thinking when I made the leap into bliss? Serena’s sweet mouth sucking me off.
It didn’t make sense that I was still drawn to her. She lied. She kept my son from me. While my mother played a part in the beginning and did take some of the blame off Serena, I couldn’t get past all the time we’d spent together over the last weeks and she never said a word about Andrew. Could I forgive that? How could I trust her?
St. Patrick’s Day was the following week, and we were in the final plans of the Roarke’s party, including serving Irish Stew. It was listed on the menu as Mrs. Moore’s Authentic Irish Mutton Stew. I asked my assistant to be sure to extend invitations to
