“I didn’t know,” I blurted out. “I would’ve told him. I never would’ve kept Faith from him. I swear, I had no idea.”
Jameson carefully masked his fury, and with a good amount of effort, I watched him force himself to relax.
There was a commotion in the other room, the front door opened, then closed, and silence stole over the room.
I glanced out the window to see Macy helping the girls into her SUV, Alec going to the driver’s side. Nixon and McKenna walked to Nix’s truck. Doors slammed and vehicles drove away. All of that happened surprisingly quickly. My daughter was being whisked away so she wouldn’t witness my meltdown.
I didn’t know if I was grateful or if I felt like the world’s worst mother. Shouldn’t I have been able to keep my shit together for the sake of my child?
“None of us think that about you, Charleigh. We know you’d never do that to Holden. And more, we know you wouldn’t do that to Faith. Holden knows that, too.”
“Does he?” I snapped.
“Hundred percent, he knows,” Weston assured me.
“Then why isn’t he here? Why’d he leave me, again? He begged me to fight for our future, he pleaded with me to forgive him for leaving me. But he left me, again.”
“I’m not making excuses for him,” Jameson started. “But, Charleigh, he didn’t leave you. He left so he could go somewhere and beat himself up. For him, this is the best and the worst day of his life. Finding out that Faith is his after all these years thinking she was Paul’s, but knowing the true depth of Paul’s betrayal, knowing that he denied a child that at the time he truly believed couldn’t be his, losing you and Faith, missing eight years of his daughter’s life.”
“And what about me? I just found out the depth of Paul’s betrayal, too. None of you understand the shame I’ve lived with thinking I slept with him. None of you understand the guilt I feel for wishing that night never happened. None of you understand how lonely I’ve been. How much I missed Holden. How fucking hurt I was.”
Shouldn’t the shame have been washed clean now that I knew the truth? Shouldn’t I feel better knowing I never had sex with Paul? But nothing felt better or good. It felt more screwed up. How stupid could I have been? How weak? Why didn’t I demand Holden take a DNA test?
Pride. I let my damn pride stand in the way. At the time, I thought Holden was rejecting me and the possibility the baby was his. His refusal to acknowledge the baby hurt so bad, I slithered away to lick my wounds and let my parents force me to marry Paul and stay quiet about Holden.
Even after Paul died, my parents pushed me to play the part of the grieving widow. A thought nagged the back of my mind, a hunch that wasn’t fully formed, but pieces started to click into place. The Towlers. My parents. Court appearances.
“What else is in the box?” I demanded to know.
“Charleigh—”
Determination infused my spine and I stood. “No more hiding. I have a right to know and frankly, so does Holden.”
By the time I’d walked across the room, Jameson had placed the box on the table. But he hadn’t taken his hand off of it.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
With a stern jerk of his chin, he reached into the box, pulled out a stack of papers, and handed them to me.
These didn’t belong to Paul. They were bank statements dated after he’d died. I shifted through the papers noting there were highlighted lines—deposits—but they were meaningless to me.
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither did Rhode. So he dug deeper. For eight years, there’s been a reoccurring two-thousand dollar deposit.” Jameson reached back into the box and handed me another stack of papers.
More statements. I scanned the first page and froze.
First National Bank.
Edward Axelson.
I didn’t need to look through the bank records to know what my parents had done. I didn’t give the first fuck if the Towlers were blackmailing my parents or if it was my parents’ idea to give Beatrice hush money.
I didn’t give the first two shits my parents had wasted a crapton of money.
They knew.
My own fucking parents had known all along.
Fuck them. Fuck everyone.
I bolted from the room. Kennedy shouted my name, Jameson said something, but I didn’t stop until I was in the room I was sharing with Faith. I locked the door, found my phone on the nightstand, and called my parents.
Luckily, my father answered.
“Charlotte,” he clipped.
Asshole.
“This will be the last time I ever call you.”
“What on earth—”
“I know, Father.”
“I don’t like your attitude.”
The nerve.
The gall.
Edward didn’t like my attitude? Well, I didn’t like his deception. I didn’t like how my whole life I’d been treated like I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t like how their standing at the country club was more important than me.
“Then you’ll be happy to know after today, Faith and I do not exist for you. Not that we ever truly mattered, but we’re gone nonetheless. You will not contact me, you will not attempt to contact Faith. And you absolutely will not reach out to Holden and cause him anymore trouble than you already have.”
“Seriously, Charlotte, why does it always come down to that piece of trash?”
“You do not call him that!” I shouted. “You don’t ever say his name again. You knew, all these years, you knew Holden was Faith’s father and you gave money to those horrible people after all the things they did to me. They took me to court and you gave them money! You lied to me. You’re the piece of trash. You and Mother are vile pieces of shit.”
“Char—”
“Shut up and listen. I hope your reputation was worth losing your daughter and granddaughter. I hope you and Mother are happy knowing you destroyed my life and your granddaughter missed growing up without a father. This is your only warning—if I ever hear from either
