Tempting Rowan(99)
I didn’t expect, or deserve, forgiveness for what I had done. Still, I would’ve loved to hear from him, something…anything. Hell, I would have been happy with an angry phone call at this point. I wanted him to acknowledge my existence. Selfish, I know, considering what I had done. But love made you that way. Even if the other person hated you, you still wanted them.
I packed up the last of our things. Jim wasn’t home, and I had no idea where he was, nor did I care. He was a piece of shit, and I was glad I could be rid of him and my mom. This was my chance at a clean slate. A new Rowan Sinclair was emerging.
I didn’t have to lie and deceive anymore—and that was a really good feeling.
I loaded the last of our things up and didn’t bother looking back at the house as I left. I was closing this chapter on my life, and starting a whole new one…I only hoped it got better.
“This is our new home?” Tristan asked as I opened the door to the apartment. He clutched his stuffed dinosaur tightly in his hand, his eyes taking in the new space.
Ivy looked around, much the same way, a Barbie doll dangling from her fingers.
After everything that had happened last night, I’d decided to indulge and taken them to Target to get a new toy and then out to dinner at a nice restaurant.
“Yep,” I turned on the light, “this is our new home.”
I gasped when I spotted the bunk bed. Trace hadn’t been kidding.
Tears pricked my eyes at his kindness. While I’d been gone, he’d bought a bed and put it together for the kids. Wow. To say I was touched didn’t even cover the way I felt.
“Are those for us?” Tristan’s eyes lit up when he spotted the bunk bed. He danced excitedly on the balls of his feet as he pointed at it.
“It sure is,” I smiled.
Tristan giggled, running for the bed. “I get the top!” He shrieked.
I knew Ivy would want the bottom bunk anyway, since she was afraid of heights.
I set the groceries I’d picked up on the counter and then began un-bagging them. I hadn’t gotten much, so it didn’t take me long to put everything away.
Once the food was in its proper place I scoured the bins for the kids bedding. I finally found it—in the last bin I checked—and forced them to vacate the bed.
Tristan pouted, upset at being evicted from his new favorite place.
“Don’t you want your sheets on the bed?” I asked when he kept staring at me with mopey eyes as I made Ivy’s bed.
He nodded. “I guess so,” his fingers tightened around his stuffed green and orange dinosaur.
My breath caught for a moment as I looked at him. I so desperately wanted to tell him the truth—so why not tonight? What difference would waiting make? It wasn’t like the woman he believed was his mom had ever acted as such. I was scared to tell him though. He was a child, and they could be so incredibly fragile. I didn’t want to cause him pain. I had only ever wanted to protect him, which had led to the adoption in the first place. That had been a major screw-up, so I didn’t want the same thing to happen again. I felt that waiting until he was older would only bring more heartbreak. There had been enough lies, and I’d carried them for so long. I was ending this tonight.
The new Rowan Sinclair wasn’t going to keep quiet.
I finished making their beds and turned on the TV that had been left in the apartment from when Trace lived here. There was also a couch, and a bed was in the bedroom. Everything else had been cleared away.
As soon as I sat down, Ivy cuddled against one side, and Tristan burrowed against my other. I guessed playing on his new bunk bed wasn’t a priority anymore.
I ran my fingers through his light hair and kissed the top of his head. I loved him so much—and that love had led me to make the worst decision of my life. I’d thought I was doing the right thing though.
“Tristan,” I swallowed thickly as his blue eyes—Trent’s eyes—raised to meet mine. “There’s something I need to tell you,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I spoke. God, this was hard.
Ivy sat up too, watching me curiously. She knew from my tone that I had something important to say.
I didn’t know quite how to approach this. Shit. I should’ve googled this or read a book about it. I was sorely unprepared to have this profound conversation with my son.
Finally, I reached out, lovingly stroking his cheek. “A long time ago, I had a baby,” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, “a baby boy.”
“You had a baby?” Ivy gasped.
“Baby? Where?” Tristan looked over his shoulder like one was magically going to appear.
“Here,” I tapped his chest.