Amber came toward him, questions in her eyes.
He watched her come, this woman he’d gotten close with, come to care about, maybe even loved. What was he going to say to her? What could he say?
AS AMBER WALKED toward the entrance of the store, she caught the expression on Paul’s face and dread wrapped around her heart. His brow was wrinkled, his eyes strained, his mouth a flat line.
Something had happened. Something was wrong. She pushed open the door of the store, shivering as the cool wind hit her. She’d left her coat inside.
Paul was rubbing his knuckles absently, and when she looked at the hand he was rubbing, she saw some discoloration. “What happened? Are you okay?”
He was studying her face as if trying to read hieroglyphics. “You knew.”
“Knew about what?”
He glanced down the street. “A man was here who said he had...” He shook his head. “He said you knew. He said Wendy said you were the only person she told.”
Oh. Oh, no.
“Is it true?” The muscles in his jaw were working. “That Wendy had an affair? That Davey’s not my son?”
She looked into his eyes, his dear eyes, now stormy. Everything was about to change between them and not for the better.
But the truth had to be told. Slowly, she nodded. “It’s true.” She reached out to touch his arm, wanting contact, wanting to know he didn’t hate her.
He jerked away. “How could it be true? And how could you know something like that and not tell me?”
Amber’s throat felt so dry that it was hard to get any words out, but she had to explain. “I’m basing it on what Wendy said, but yes. She had an affair and...” Amber swallowed the lump in her throat. “And conceived Davey that way. She made me promise not to tell you.”
“But...why?” Paul’s voice was plaintive, and Amber’s heart ached for him. “Why would she do that? And why would she tell you?”
A gust of cold wind hit Amber, making her wrap her arms around herself. There was no answering the question of why Wendy had done it; that secret had gone to the grave with her. Amber could only attempt to answer the second question. “I don’t know why she told me. It just happened that, that last time I visited with her and interviewed her, she obviously had something on her heart that she needed to say. I guess I was just the person who was there when she got that urge to confess.”
“To confess.”
Amber nodded. “She said she loved you so much, and she knew that it would break you. And she was afraid that you’d stop caring for Davey if you knew, and you’re such a great father... Paul, she felt terrible about the whole thing. She couldn’t stop crying. And she begged me not to tell you. I didn’t know what to do, so I just listened and then did what she said.” It wasn’t an adequate explanation, but it was the truth.
His arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were cold, colder than the wind.
Clearly, from Paul’s reaction now, she’d made the wrong decision.
The days and weeks leading up to this day seemed to flash before her eyes. The night Davey had come to her house, upset. The time Paul had called her to come help him at the preschool. The work they’d done together. Their kiss.
When in there could she have fit in a conversation about the fact that his wife had had an affair and his son wasn’t his son?
But she should have found a way. Clearly, she should have found a way. By not telling him, she had ruined any chance of them being together, of him trusting her.
And why should he trust her? He was an honorable man, and she... Well, it was never going to work for a guy like him and a girl like her, anyway.
Only now, as it was withering away, did she realize how strong her hope had grown. How much she’d wanted to be part of Paul and Davey’s family.
Davey. She looked back into the bookstore and saw that Davey was now in Erica’s arms, while Trey held Hunter. Davey was looking in their direction, his expression worried.
“Paul.” This felt like the most urgent part of the whole thing and she had to say it right. And from the looks of things, she had to say it fast, before Paul completely turned off to her. She grabbed his folded forearm, held on when he attempted to fling her off. “Be mad at me,” she said, “but don’t take it out on Davey. Let’s move where he can’t see us.” She pulled at his arm, hoping to shepherd him away from the plate glass window.
He pushed her hand off his arm, gently enough, but she felt the quivering rage beneath those fingers. “Don’t touch me.” Paul’s face was steel.
“You’re the only father he’s ever known and you have to stick with him. You are his dad.”
He stared at her blankly then. “You think I’d abandon Davey? What do you think I am?” He glanced toward Davey, and then he did step out of the child’s sight line. That meant he was closer to Amber, facing her down. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me be the dupe who didn’t even know he was raising someone else’s kid?”
She felt lower than a piece of mud on someone’s shoe. This had to be such a horrible shock to Paul. She tried to imagine what it would feel like if she discovered that Hannah wasn’t her biological child, but that was impossible. Her love for Hannah was all tangled up with the fact that she’d borne Hannah from her body. And not to imply that adoptive parents couldn’t feel that way, because Amber knew they could, but
