We’re ready for her tomorrow.
“Okay.” I give him my full attention, steadying my quaking hands at my hips. “What’s up?”
He studies me. “You tell me. You’ve been acting strange ever since the hospital.”
All the words rush to the forefront at the same time, none of them finding their way out. Dr. Rathburn stressed the importance of keeping him calm and relaxed—I worry this could incite him.
“Is Honor … your daughter?” I blurt the strangest, cruelest question I never dreamed I’d be asking this man.
“What?” He sucks in a breath. “Astaire … why would you … what makes you …”
I’m not sure if he’s flabbergasted or trying to buy time as he comes up with an explanation.
“I ran into Beth Wednesday,” I say. “She told me everything.”
His lips twist into an amused smile and relief paints his chiseled face. “Oh, God. Okay. Yeah. That explains it.”
I fold my arms.
“What did she tell you exactly?” he asks.
“That Honor is your daughter and that’s why Larissa left her to you,” I say. “And I have to say, Bennett, the resemblance is uncanny when I think about it. She’s your spitting image.”
His amused smirk fades and he braces his hands against the counter. “Beth’s half-correct. Honor is a Schoenbach. But she isn’t mine … she’s Errol’s.”
“Convenient.”
His eyes flash, holding mine. “On my life, Astaire. On my fucking life. On the heart that beats in my chest. I am not her biological father.”
He comes around the island, peels my trembling hands from my shaking body, and holds them in his.
“Look at me.” He speaks through clenched teeth, though his words are calm.
The instant my gaze meets his, the energy between us ignites, though with what, I can’t be certain. I just know I could slice through it, it’s so thick.
I want to believe him, I do.
But words are only that.
Words.
“I saw the text message transcripts.” I swallow the knot in my throat. “When I was grabbing your phone in your study … I saw them. They were on top of your desk.”
“My god … those messages weren’t between myself and Larissa if that’s what you’re getting at.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ. Do you honestly believe I’d be capable of something so vicious? So vile?”
I don’t answer because … I don’t know.
At the end of the day, this is all so new and we might as well be a notch above strangers.
How well can a person ever know someone else anyway?
“You know me better than that,” he says. “Honestly, you know me better than anyone at this point. I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else. I’ve spent more time with you these past six weeks than I’ve spent with any one woman in the past six years.”
“I want to believe you, Bennett. I do. But it’s going to take more than that …”
He’s pacing now.
“You told me you and Larissa were never close,” I say.
“Right.”
“So why would she leave you her daughter?”
“Million-dollar question.” He stops pacing, arms folded. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing the last several weeks.”
“No, I mean … from a logical perspective, it would seem like … she’d leave Honor to you because … she’s yours.”
His eyes narrow. “Nothing Larissa ever did was logical. I’m still trying to figure out what the hell she was thinking screwing Errol. None of it makes sense. Only thing I can think of is that the bastard was grooming her. Knew she was vulnerable. Used it to his advantage.”
He hunches over the island, fists tightened, jaw clenched.
“I’m guessing you didn’t read the entire transcript, because had you read them, you’d have seen several instances where Errol referenced Beth,” Bennett says.
I exhale.
He’s right. I didn’t read them all.
I only read enough to realize what they were, and then I got the hell out of there before I got sick again.
“How did you get those texts?” I ask.
“When Larissa was twenty, I got her a cell phone. She was always getting into trouble, never could pay the bill on the one she had. I wanted to make sure she would always have a way to reach me no matter what, that she had a phone that would never be shut off.” He pauses. “I stopped bailing her out after a while. Stopped taking her calls. But I kept paying the bill.” He pauses. “Took some digging, but we managed to have the carrier dig up several years’ worth of texts between Larissa and Errol.”
“So why do you have them?”
“Because my mother is threatening to have my brother file a paternity suit.”
“Your brother wants custody?”
“He wants legal custody—which he then will relinquish so she’ll go back into the system.” He shakes his head. “To them, Honor is a black mark on our family name. A human stain. They want to pretend she doesn’t exist. Me adopting her prevents them from doing that.”
“He can’t do that, can he?” I ask. “He can’t just … step in and take over after all this time.”
“Talked to my attorney. He seemed to think the odds were against me in this one,” he says. “Which is why I have the transcripts. I have proof Errol knew of Honor’s existence and made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her. It also paints a pretty vivid picture of the abusive dynamics of their relationship. If you can call it that.”
“So … why does Beth think Honor is yours?”
“Beth is snowed. Errol and my mother have her convinced that Honor’s mine because she clearly looks like a Schoenbach and if she knew the truth, their marriage would be over and they’d lose the baby they’re in the process of adopting. Too much on the line.”
“She wouldn’t wonder why he’s suing for custody?”
“They’d keep her out of the loop. It’s not hard. Lying is what my mother and Errol do best. They’ve got it down to a science.”
“Maybe she already knows.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“She made this comment … that Schoenbach men ruin their women. Something about how she can’t stay but she can’t leave. And then she got all emotional.”
He rolls his eyes. “Beth has a taste for the finer things in life. Errol is her ticket to that. I don’t discount the chance that she knows of his philandering ways. I highly doubt Larissa was the first woman he fucked that wasn’t his wife… And he’s been begging to start a family for years. Beth doesn’t want kids. But she wants to stay a Schoenbach. She’ll be miserable if she stays. Miserable if she goes.”
“All of these things would’ve been nice to know …”
His lips press flat. “I was trying to keep you out of this. Spare you the family drama.”
I drag in a jagged breath and move closer to him. Lifting my hand, I cup the side of his cheek.
My gut is telling me to believe him. My heart too.