His entire life of firsts are gone. Rocking him to sleep. Teaching him to ride a bike. Bandaging scraped knees. All of it, stolen by a secret I never saw coming.
I slam my hand against the steering wheel, the sound cracking through the night, but it doesn’t release the pressure building in my chest.
My father disowned me for telling the truth. And now I’ve been cut out of my own son’s life because the truth was hidden from me. Two different lies. Same result. Families torn apart.
My family.
My chest heaves, shame colliding with fury. I press my palms to my eyes, but Beckett’s face burns behind my lids, overlaid with my own childhood photos.
How the hell do I come back from this?
I sit in the dark, gutted, the weight of his existence pressing down on me. I can’t walk away. I won’t walk away.
But every path forward is more betrayal waiting to happen, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.
THIRTEEN
Janie
The door's slam still echoes through my body like aftershocks from an earthquake.
The sheet is lying in a heap on the floor, and my quilt is pulled up to my chin, damp with sweat and tears. Warren's scent lingers on my skin. All of it is a cruel reminder of what was here and what's now gone.
"I have a son, and you kept him from me."
His words carve fresh wounds with each replay in my mind. The hatred in his eyes. The betrayal. I've never seen Warren truly angry before tonight. Controlled, measured Warren. He's always been the calm one, the rational one, and in an instant, he was reduced to rage because of what I did.
What I did. What I kept doing every single day for five years.
I reach for my phone, my fingers trembling as I pull up my messages. Gemma will know what to do. She always does.
I pause over the three words:I told him.
But Warren's command thunders through my head: "You won't tell a soul until I tell you to."
He meant my family, right? Not Gemma. But what if...
I delete the message, watching the letters disappear one by one. The screen's harsh white light bathes my face. I toss the phone aside, and it lands on his pillow, perfectly positioned in the hollow space where he should be.
Where he will never be again.
Rolling over, I press my body into the now cold space his body left behind. The bed and comforter still hold his scent. His ghost.
"I need to think about this. We'll figure out a custody arrangement."
Custody arrangement. Clinical. Detached. Like we're just two strangers who happened to create a life and now need a document to dictate how we interact.
The tears come again. They're painful and relentless. My chest aches with each sob I try to muffle into the pillow.
What have I done? I've ruined everything. Again. We had a chance. For one breathless moment tonight, I could see the faint promise of a future together.
It was perfect for a few fleeting minutes. Except it wasn't perfect, because there was a lie between us. A forbidden secret.
And now I might lose him completely.
I’ve never felt more alone. It's not because he left, but because he finally saw me, all of me, and walked away anyway.
Somewhere in the haze of tears, exhaustion drags me under. I don't realize it's morning until I hear the most tender voice pulling me back.