I lifted my head, and he wiped away the teardrops settling under my eyes before bracing my shoulders with his hands. “What’s the one thing you wanted from your husband before he passed away?”
I blinked hard, then closed my eyes. “Forgiveness,” I whispered.
“And I think that’s what my sister is asking from you right now. Don’t harbor all that resentment inside. It’s the same as holding all the guilt you’ve been carrying around. It’s nothing but an anchor dragging you down. Let it all go and realize that even the most beautiful of flowers can survive among those cracks.”
I pulled Theo closer, clinging to him like a lifeline in a stormy sea. Crying over the husband I thought I knew. Crying for the friend who had come and gone so quickly from my life. Crying for the innocent child I had grown to care about so much. And most of all, crying for the man whose arms I never wanted to leave, knowing I had no choice but to do so.
CHAPTER 21
AFTER RETURNING HOME, I didn’t get out of my pajamas for three straight days. I ignored the growing pile of mail on my kitchen table. I ignored the missed calls and texts from my mother, work, DeAndre, and as hard as it was…Theo. We had parted that day in the garden, vowing that nothing would change between us, and as much as I wanted to believe it wouldn’t, I knew it already had.
I sat down at the kitchen table, trying my hardest to stomach the bowl of soup I had just made without much success. Everywhere I looked in that house reminded me of Evan, from the kitchen cabinets he installed himself to the table I was sitting at that he was adamantly against purchasing. He finally wavered, giving in to my wishes like always. There was nowhere to escape from him. His presence was everywhere. I felt like I was mourning his death all over again, but this time it was different. It was as if I was mourning the loss of the memory of the person I thought he was. The knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I didn’t want to answer. I wasn’t fit for company. I was a complete mess both physically and mentally. Tiptoeing into the living room, I pulled the curtain back ever so slightly to see if I could get a glimpse out the window of who it was, breathing a sigh of relief and then uncertainty when I saw my mother’s car in the driveway. I ran my hand down my wrinkled pajamas as if that would help in any way before heading to the door and opening it.
“Jillian!” my mother exclaimed, looking me over in shock. As always, she was perfection, wearing a pretty coral-colored floral skirt that showed off her tanned, gorgeous legs even at sixty-two years old. Her light blond shoulder-length hair that was the same shade of mine was slicked back in a ponytail. I could only hope I had inherited her genes, when I got to be her age. She took a step inside and looked down at my unpacked suitcase still sitting in the entryway. “How long have you been home?”
“Three days,” I whispered.
“Your eyes are so swollen. Have you been crying?”
I looked up at the ceiling, trying to avert my tears, but the old trick someone had told me about a long time ago was failing me miserably at that moment. They began to stream down my face in waterfalls.
“Jillian...” My mother pulled me into her embrace. As I allowed her to comfort me, I realized this was a side of her I hadn’t seen very often. Even after Evan had died, she tried her hardest to be there for me, but I never felt comfortable allowing her completely in. Now I was waving the white flag, because this time, I had felt like I had lost so much more, including a piece of myself. She led me over to the couch and we took a seat. Grabbing a small pack of tissues from her purse, she handed me a few and sat there quietly while I pulled it together somewhat. “What’s going on?” she asked gently.
“Evan has a child.” Hearing those words come out of my mouth sliced my heart in two.
My mother’s eyes widened. “What?”
I told her everything that had transpired over the past week from start to finish, leaving no details out, including my feelings for Theo. By the time I was finished I felt as if I had run the equivalent of an emotional marathon with a fresh round of tears showering my face. She shook her head, dumbfounded by the news she had just received. “I can’t believe she never told him about the baby.”
“She claims because she knew he was still in love with me and it was just a one-night thing that should’ve never happened.”
“I believe that to be true. Evan loved you so much, Jillian. That was always apparent.”
“There’s something else I never told you.”
“What’s that?” she asked with apprehension.
“I had a miscarriage a few years ago.”
She grabbed my hand and rubbed her thumb over my knuckles. “Oh, Jillian, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Evan know you were even pregnant?”
“He did, and then he left for his business trip right after I lost the baby. The same trip he conceived his son on. I resented him so much for leaving me at a time when I needed him most that I just stopped caring. We lived together for an entire year as basic strangers before we finally separated. I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t want him to even look at me. Now looking back, I think he felt the same way about me. I don’t know if it was his own guilt over the affair he was hiding
