My eyebrows pull together, and even after they’re gone I’m still trying to figure out what in the hell just happened.
Sarah barely lets the door close behind me before she sits down on the bed and faces me. Her eyes are devoid of their usual sparkle and I know what’s coming.
I know what she finally began figuring out this morning in the kitchen.
Leaning against the wall, I cross my arms over my stomach, for some reason wanting to protect my secret a little bit longer.
“He’s the dad.”
I close my eyes and fight the tears that want to form. I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I move. But I melt when Sarah wraps her arms around my shoulders and she pulls me to her.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers as my shoulders begin to shake. “If I had any idea, I never would have brought you here.”
“Or made me tell you everything at the hotel?” As much as I love her, I can’t hide the irritation in my voice. I’m still a bit mad she put me on the spot like that, even if she hadn’t figured it all out yet.
“I know. It took me longer than it should have to put it together. I blame the sleep deprivation, but I am sorry.”
“I know,” I mumble, my voice garbled from her shoulder and the tears that don’t want to stop.
For six years I’ve held this knowledge to myself. After weeks of calling Grayson, leaving messages and texts that all went unanswered, I tried twice to find him in person. The second time, I’m lucky no one saw me while I was back in Braxton when I went to Grayson’s house. I had planned on tracking him down, telling him everything, but I knew there was only one person who could help me…and I knew there was no way in hell he’d bother. Grayson’s dad was a meaner drunk than my father could ever be, which was saying a lot.
Now, after seeing the scars all over Grayson’s back last night, I realize that he was even worse than I ever imagined he could be. He’s not an asshole.
He’s a monster.
But even then, I had no doubt that when Grayson left town, he didn’t leave a forwarding address for his old man to track him down. So once I stood outside his childhood home, I only debated with myself for a few minutes before getting back in my car and driving back to school.
After classes that day, I went straight to the adoption agency and signed the final paperwork.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, leaning on Sarah.
I shake my head into her shoulder, feeling hatred for myself and my lies and my secrets seeping into my skin, along with the simmering remainder of the anger I felt toward Grayson because he never returned any of the calls I left for him.
Sarah’s the one who has been there for me, always, every step of the way. But even though I still think of our baby every day, every moment of my life, it’s been years since I’ve so desperately wanted to know what he looks like.
Being around Grayson for less than twenty-four hours has twisted everything up inside my head, leaving me more confused, more ashamed of myself than I ever have been.
I always thought creating an adoption plan and handing our baby to a loving couple was the best thing for all three of us, but now I can’t help but wonder.
What if? What if he had stayed? What if he had called me back?
Would I have still gone through with the adoption if we had been together the way I’d always wanted?
“It doesn’t matter,” I finally say, leaning back against the wall. I swipe my tears away, frantically shaking my head. “He’s in town for three days, that’s all he wants.” It’s all he’s said, anyway. Or promised. And I know him. If he wanted more, if he wanted something more serious to happen between us, he’d be straight up about it. He always was before.
“Can you do this?” Sarah asks. Her hands run down my arms in a soothing gesture, and I close my eyes.
Shrugging, I shake my head. “I have no clue.” I open my eyes and stare into her understanding ones. “But I’ve missed him, you know?”
“I know. I get it now, I think, all of it.”
She always has. Even when she hasn’t asked questions, hasn’t prodded too deep into my past, Sarah has always seemed to understand me.
“Are you going to tell him?”
I smack my head against the wall behind me. “I don’t know. I think he should know, I guess. I mean…I’d want to. But what would it change? Our son is happy—hopefully—”
“He is,” Sarah assures me. Her careful smile when I look down at her fills me with peace. In all the times I’ve voiced the doubt, she’s always been there to remind me I’ve done the right thing.
I nod, thankful. “So what would he gain by finding out, then?” I’m thinking out loud. I truly never expected to see Grayson again—at least not in person. I’ve had over five years to get used to the fact that there’s a little person wandering around Chicago who carries fifty percent of my DNA. I don’t know what Grayson will do if I tell him. It’s not like he can go see him.
Despite how angry and hurt I was when he walked away, I’ve always cared for him. Now, I just got him back and it’s only for a short time.
I don’t want to lose him again.
“Kennedy.”
“What?” I ask, my eyes closing again. Thinking this hard so early in the morning hurts my brain.
“Tell him,” she whispers. Her hand covers mine, and she squeezes. “He has the right to know, finally.”
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I nod. “I know. I’ll tell him, but I’ll wait until after this weekend.”
When he’s going to hop on a plane and fly home.
At least that way, if he does hate me, I don’t have to see it in his eyes or hear it in his voice for too long.
In the meantime, I can soak up all the small bits and pieces Grayson wants to give me, and pretend that we can go back to being friends.
“All right.” She yanks me off the wall until I’m on my feet. “Let’s get moving. We’ve got guns to shoot.”
“Thanks.” I smile sadly and she returns a similar look.
“I love you, Kennedy. You know that, right?”
“I know.” I do. She doesn’t have to speak for me to know she thinks I’m making a mistake, but she also doesn’t have to speak for me to know I have her full support in my decision.
Eight
Kennedy
Forty-five minutes later, fifteen minutes later than I told Grayson we’d contact him, Sarah rushes to the door of our hotel room when a knock comes from the other side.
“I’ll get it!” she shouts. I’m in the bathroom, finishing up my makeup and pulling my hair into a ponytail.
After my breakdown, after spilling everything to Sarah, I spent longer than necessary in the shower. Most of the time was trying to stop the tears that continued to fall even after I thought I was done crying.
My eyes are red and swollen, and so far no amount of makeup has been able to hide the fact that I’ve spent the last forty-five minutes being a blubbering mess.
After a shaky inhale, I swipe more dark gray eye shadow over my upper lid and hope for the best.
“Hey, guys!” Sarah shouts again, back to her regular, perky self. “Kennedy’s almost done and then we’re ready to go.”
“I’m ready,” I say, walking out of the bathroom. “Let’s go.”
I dig for my keycard in my purse, not looking up as I follow Sarah out of the hotel room.
I’m three feet into the hallway when a hand lands on my shoulder and stops me.
“You okay?” Grayson asks when he bends down so he can look me in the eye.
“Yup.” I nod, still looking down. I want just a few more minutes to avoid him so he can’t see that I’ve been crying again.
“What’s wrong?” His thumb grazes my chin and then he pushes up so I’m forced to look at him. When I meet his gaze, his eyes narrow. “Have you been crying?”
“Nonsense,” Sarah chirps. She grabs onto my hand and pulls me forward. “Why would she do a silly thing like that? Come on, we’ve got guns to shoot.”
I laugh and follow her, not bothering to look back. It’s not until we’re back in the elevator that I look at Grayson again and try not to hide from him.
He’s known me since I was fourteen—six years of close friendship—and even though it’s been years…I know he’ll be able to tell I’m hiding something. Now isn’t the time to let everything out into the open.
Grayson’s eyes are full of speculation when he steps into the elevator. His narrowed eyes and the tension in his jaw tell me that he’s unhappy. Based on the fact that Lynx and Landon are wearing similar expressions along with defensive statures, thick arms crossed over their brute chests, I figure it doesn’t have a darn thing to do with me. I know it doesn’t have a darn thing to do with me.
With a small smile, Grayson leans down and whispers in my ear, “Did you think about me in the shower?”
A garbled sound escapes my throat and I blink rapidly. I did, but not the way I’m guessing he means it based on his crooked, flirtatious grin.
“In your dreams,” I whisper back.
I can do this. I can put my past behind me for three days until it needs to be brought to light.
Grayson takes a small step forward, effectively blocking my view of everyone else in the elevator, and he leans closer. One of his hands presses against the elevator’s wall by my head, and he dips his head so his lips are at my ear.