Just One Regret(44)

“You are,” I interrupt, emotion clogging my throat. “You always were.”

“Only because you believe in me, and you always have. What do you say, beautiful? Marry me?”

The ground tips and spins. My mind is a massive mess of confusion and overwhelmed emotions as we wait to see the son I gave birth to over five years ago.

But this is what I’ve always wanted. This is who I’ve always wanted.

There’s no other answer.

My lips pull wide into a manic smile, but I don’t care. “Yes, of course I will.”

He leans forward and presses his palms to my cheeks. “I will make you the happiest woman in the world, I promise you. Always.”

“You already have,” I whisper, right before his lips meet mine and he steals my breath.

When he pulls back, I see the pain in his expression even through the joy and happiness I’ve just given him. A laugh bubbles from deep in my chest and I let it out, sliding down the bench to give him more room.

“Get back up here and wait,” I say, “before you throw up.”

“Bossy.” His knee bumps mine as he obeys. “Are you always going to be this bossy?”

“You better believe….” My voice drifts off as I catch sight of three people headed our way. Nerves instantly flutter in my stomach and I look over Grayson’s shoulder, watching them walk closer. “Look.” I point to the family heading directly toward us.

Donald and Patricia’s frames are clear. Each of them is holding onto the hand of a small child walking between them.

Tears immediately swell in my eyes and I blink rapidly, thankful for the sunglasses that will hide them. “They’re here.”

We both stand and face them. Next to me, Grayson swipes his hands down his thighs as they come closer.

They’re thirty yards away.

It feels like miles.

The world around us disappears while, for the first time in my life, I’m able to see my son walking toward me in person.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, reaching out and clasping onto Grayson’s hand. “It’s really him.”

“I know.”

His voice is thick with emotion and I can’t look at him. I might completely lose it if I see the expression on his face right now. Both of us stay statue-still as Thad dances his way to us, clearly eager to be out of the hold his parents have on his hands.

Patricia’s eyes are covered with glasses, too, and I notice that out of the three of them, her steps are the slowest. Most hesitant.

We’ve promised not to reveal who we are—that we are the parents who birthed Thad—but it’s impossible to hide the overwhelming emotion heating my skin until I feel like I’m on fire.

I want to burst open from the inside out as I catch his blue sparkling eyes flicker between Grayson and me.

As they reach us, my lips part.

“Mr. Legend,” Donald says when they’re standing in front of us. “Thank you for meeting us today.” His lips are pulled tight and his eyes are narrowed. Their hesitation is clear, their fear palpable.

I only take my eyes off Thad for a brief moment before my legs begin shaking and I have to sit. I pull Grayson down on the bench, and it puts us directly at Thad’s eye level.

“My pleasure,” Grayson says, licking his lips. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Thad, either. “I hear you’re a fan.”

Thad jumps, ripping his hands out of his parents’ hold. “The biggest!” he shouts, his glee evident. “And no one at school is going to believe I met you. This is like…the best day EVER!”

I jump slightly from Thad’s exuberant shout and my fingers dig into Grayson’s thigh. He doesn’t even flinch. I don’t even know if he remembers I’m here.

But it’s okay because he leans forward, lifts his glasses up onto his forehead, and he whispers, “Yeah. It really is.”

Thad turns, ripping something out of Patricia’s hand, and shoves a photo of Grayson in front of his face. “Can you sign this? I need your autograph.”

“Thad—” Patricia starts, scolding in her tone.

“Sorry, sir,” Thad says, his lips turning into a frown. “I mean, can you please sign this for me?”

Grayson stares at him, and I know he’s doing the exact same thing I’m doing.

We’re memorizing every single tiny feature on this young boy in front of us. He’s dressed in cargo shorts and a gray sweatshirt with “BEARS” printed in blue block letters. His blond hair is a mess of curls that flips out just above his ears.

It’s completely clear that he’s healthy. He’s happy.

He has no clue that he’s standing in front of the woman and man who gave him life, created him, and I have no idea how I stay in my seat, waiting for my moment to be able to speak. To touch him.

As if Grayson senses my growing impatience, he nods his head in my direction. “This is my friend—my fiancée, actually—Kennedy.”

“Hi!” Thad shouts, and I begin to wonder if the boy has another volume.

He holds out his hand and I take it, feeling heat shoot directly to my heart.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say, choking down my tears.

I’m touching my son.

For the first time since I held him just moments after his birth five and a half years ago, I’m holding on to my son.

How in the hell am I ever supposed to let him go now?

Somehow, I find the strength to let go as Grayson signs the photo, but not before I notice that his hands are trembling.

My eyes flicker to Patricia to see tears falling down her cheeks. I sniff and look away, chewing on my bottom lip.

I can’t see her fear, can’t see her emotion or I’ll lose the grip I have on my own.

Thad, fortunately, is completely ignorant to the hailstorm of emotions going on around him, and for the next twenty minutes he peppers Grayson with questions about MMA and how he got started and what he’s going to do now and if the fight last night hurt and when his next one is. All of them are easy to answer until he asks the last one, and Grayson flinches but quickly recovers, simply saying Thad will have to wait to find out.

The entire time, I hide my tears behind my hands on my cheeks, and I don’t take my eyes off Thad.

When there’s a lull in the rapid-fire question-and-answer period, Grayson and Thad and I wearing smiles stretching from ear-to-ear, Donald steps forward and places a hand on his son’s shoulder.

I cringe, knowing our time is drawing to a close.

Grayson reaches over and wraps his hand around my knee, squeezing hard.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to say goodbye again. Not now. Not after seeing how freaking awesome this kid is.

I inhale a breath and cough, covering a sob that rips itself from my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I say when everyone glances at me. “Excuse me.”

“Thank you for taking the time to meet Thad this morning,” Donald says. His other hand comes up and covers Thad’s other shoulder, as if he knows he might have to rip him away from us. “We hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

Grayson shakes his head. “No. This was not too much. It was perfect.” His voice is thick, and I know he’s fighting back the tears I’ve long since let go of. If Thad thinks I’m crazy, I’m okay with that. Because someday, I trust that Patricia and Donald will keep their word if he asks about his birth parents. And I know that on that day, he’ll remember meeting us right here, just like this, and he’ll remember watching as I fell in love with him face to face.

“You’re my hero,” Thad says proudly. “And I’m going to tell everyone I meet for the rest of my life that I got to meet you and that you’re the coolest guy…like…ever.”

A laugh escapes me at the same time Grayson does the same thing.

“You have no idea how much that means to me to hear you say that, kiddo.” As if he can’t help himself, he reaches out and ruffles Thad’s hair with his large hand.

Patricia makes a choking noise, and Grayson places his hand back on my thigh. I no longer know if he’s keeping me from jumping up and tackling Thad or if he’s using me as an anchor so he doesn’t do it himself.

“We should go,” she quickly says, and Thad’s bright smile pulls down at the edges.

“But, Mom—”

I glance at her, see her growing fear as Grayson and I struggle with our emotions, and I nod in her direction.

“We should,” I say, despite my reluctance, finding a strength I never knew I possessed. “Grayson’s still not well and he needs his rest.”

“Okay,” Thad mutters and Donald’s grip on his shoulders tightens, pulling him away from us.

I lurch forward before realizing I have to stop. I can’t throw my arms around him like I want to. I can’t tell him all my hopes and dreams that I have for him. I can’t tell him I’m so sorry for not being strong enough to raise him in the first place, but that I’m so freaking thrilled he has incredible parents, anyway. There are a million things I want to tell my boy.

That I’m his mommy.

That I brought him into the world.

That I felt him move and roll inside my stomach so many years ago.

But most importantly, as much as I want to…I want to respect the choice the Matsens have made today. And I can’t reach out, wrap my arms around him and hold him close, letting him know that I love him. That he’s perfect and smart and that I hope someday he grows up to be the happiest guy in the whole wide world.