Just One Regret(33)

I haven’t admitted it yet, but I have the same fears as Grayson. After all the shit I went through growing up, but my parents seeming perfect to everyone outside the walls of our house, I know how people can seem one way and be completely different when they’re in the privacy of their own home. I would think with my experience that I’m able to tell the difference, but I’m still hoping today provides me with the assurance I’ve needed over the last several years.

I’m hoping today brings that assurance to Grayson, too.

My nerves light up like a wildfire as soon as I take in all the people in the small conference room off the entryway. Through the glass windows I see Mary stand from the table and begin heading toward us.

Her lips are pulled into a tight line, her eyes full of disappointment. Behind her, my breath catches as I see, for the first time in almost six years, Patricia and Donald.

When our eyes meet, Patricia’s chin wobbles and she reaches out to clasp her hand over Donald’s. She looks away from me, and I can’t help but feel her anger pulsing all the way across the room into my chest. Beside her is a woman dressed in a slick black suit that screams conservative and out-for-murder at the same time.

On the other side of the table is a man dressed in a similar suit. His black hair is peppered with gray and slicked back—slightly longer on top, buzzed short on the sides. He must be Grayson’s lawyer. When he turns his head, he gives a nod of acknowledgement to Grayson. Everyone on the other side of the table avoids my eyes besides the woman who can’t be any older than Patricia. Her gaze is narrowed and assessing as she watches me take the few steps to reach Mary.

“Hell,” I mutter. I’ve entered the land of no return. Next to me, Grayson squeezes my hand reassuringly.

“It’ll be fine,” he says. I don’t know how he can seem so calm. My skin feels like it’s vibrating, but next to me, Grayson is as still as a statue.

“Kennedy,” Mary says, holding out her hand for me to shake.

I do, wincing at the formality. The last time I saw her, I was greeted with a quick but warm embrace. Today, there’s distance and coolness that only I’m to blame for. Her eyes quickly leave mine and scan Grayson. I know what she sees—a mountain of a lean fighter. And I haven’t looked too hard at him today for fear I might combust, but I know his suit is well-tailored and he looks more fierce and professional than I’ve ever seen him. Gone are his fighting clothes and ripped jeans, replaced with the look of a man who has money and connections. I don’t know how much of either is true, but if he’s playing to win a war, he looks the part.

Dread settles in my stomach like an anchor.

I don’t want this to become a fight. I want Thad happy, and I trust that he is.

“You must be Grayson,” she says, reaching for his outstretched hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nelson.”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” I say, wiping my sweaty palms down the sides of my hips. “It’s good to see you.”

Mary’s smile is tight as she nods. “Well, part of this fiasco is due to our agency’s lack of due diligence.”

I flinch from the sting of her words, but she keeps talking.

“So I thought it prudent someone was here to help facilitate—given that I’m the one with the relationship between you and the adoptive parents.”

Adoptive parents. I close my eyes and a puff of breath leaves my lips. They’ve always been the Matsens. Mary’s always been so kind. The line she’s drawing, forcing separation between us, is clear. And painful.

“Regardless,” she continues, either uncaring or unseeing the pain her words cause me, “I wanted to take a moment with just the two of you. The Matsens are, understandably, incredibly stressed and worried regarding what’s about to happen in there.” Her eyes slash to mine and I feel it slice a piece of my heart. “I’m asking you to go slow today. They don’t need the stress this has caused their family.”

Family. Her intentions are clear. We are not to upset my son’s parents.

I squeeze my eyes closed, and my hands ball into fists as I nod in agreement.

Next to me, the coolness radiating off Grayson sparks and lights into something more adversarial.

I want to reach out and calm him like he’s done for me, but I’m too unsettled.

Instead, after a beat of silence where Mary allows her words to penetrate, she spins around and heads back to the room.

Grayson’s hand lands on my lower back and makes me jump. “She’s a peach.”

“She’s doing her job,” I whisper back, being careful that Mary can’t hear us. The last thing I need to do is piss her off.

She’s been as understanding as possible, all things considered.

As soon as we step through the open door to the conference room, all the oxygen evaporates from the air. Maybe it’s just my lungs. Grayson’s fingers twitch on my back as he leads me to a seat and then takes the one in between me and his lawyer.

The two men shake hands and exchange hellos before we turn to complete introductions to the rest of the people in the room.

Patricia and Donald don’t acknowledge our presence, keeping their eyes locked on Keith Titon, while Grayson introduces himself to their lawyer.

She doesn’t rise to shake our hands, but her pursed lips and the harsh lines around her eyes say it all.

We’re the enemy.

A cold, icy feeling slithers down my spine as Mary finally takes her seat at the end of the table.

The silence of everyone at the table is unbearable. The only thing in the room is the sound of Patricia’s muffled sobs, and I can’t stop the fierce pain in my chest from spreading until my entire body is strung tight with fear of what is about to happen.











“We’re here today,” Mary starts, her voice cold and stern, “because it’s come to light that not all the details were given with full honesty at the time of the adoption proceedings.”

Her eyes cut to me as cold as glass. She might be kind, but she’s also fierce.

At a choked sound from Patricia, my eyes snap to hers.

She’s glaring at me as if she’s willing daggers could fire from her dark brown eyes. “You lied to us.”

“I’m—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“Don’t you dare apologize to us—”

“Tricia,” her husband says, his voice calm but tight. I watch as Don tightens his grip on her hand and looks at her.

She ignores him, clearly intent on letting me know the pain I’ve caused them. “You lied to me. We trusted you. We trusted you with everything and you lied to us the entire time. How could you do that to me? To Thaddeus?” Tears burst from her eyes as she sobs, and Donald quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders.

My own shoulders are shaking, and I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. I jump slightly when Grayson reaches over and takes my clasped hands in one of his. It’s supposed to be comforting, but I can’t feel anything except sorrow for the pain I’m putting the Matsens through.

I stare at Patricia, apologies in my eyes that I can’t voice.

“Perhaps we should calm down,” Grayson’s lawyer begins to say, but he’s cut off again by Patricia.

“Calm!” she shrieks. “Calm. You want me to sit here and let this Neanderthal come and try to take my child away?”

At the name-calling, Grayson’s shoulders snap tight and I jerk back in my chair.

This is deteriorating rapidly, but I don’t see how it can be stopped.

“Enough,” Donald says, holding his wife’s shoulder. “We promised we’d listen.” He leans forward, his hand wrapped around the back of Patricia’s head. I know he’s whispering words into her ear that we can’t ear because I see his jaw moving, and as Patricia’s shoulders continue to shake, her crying grows quieter. Donald doesn’t let her go until she’s completely soothed, and when she pulls back from him, another slice of pain hits my heart at the love he shows in his eyes for his wife.

I sniff and look away, unable to handle it. They have everything they’ve ever wanted, ever dreamed of, and Grayson and I are here, threatening their security.

I hate myself for this.

“I’d like to speak,” Grayson says, his voice a deep, tight tone, and I know he’s trying his hardest to rein in his own temper.

When Donald nods for him to go ahead, Grayson’s hand tightens on mine. I unclasp my hands under his and hold his hand in both of mine.

“My past with Kennedy is not an easy one, and the last time we saw each other was not pretty. I know you want to blame Kennedy for this, and while she’s not entirely in the wrong,” my back stiffens, preparing for the proverbial under-the-bus throw he’s about to do, when he continues and says, “this is as much as my fault as hers. I wasn’t there when she needed me, and when she couldn’t find me she did what she thought was best.”

A small breath leaves my lips and I feel the vise grip wrapped around my ribcage begin to loosen.

“That being said,” Grayson continues. All eyes are on him…the challenger. It’s not often he’s on this side of a fight. I try to scoot a little closer, providing my silent encouragement. “Because I have only been aware of my son’s existence for four weeks, you can understand that I have questions.”