“Perfect at birth.” But that was all she knew. All she had the right to know. “Holding his solid little body against mine felt wonderful, but also . . . terribly, definitely awful.”
“Why?”
“I had to give him up. Give him what I couldn’t provide. A two-parent home, with people who knew what they were doing.”
“No, you didn’t have to,” he said, standing abruptly, the swing jostling in his wake. “He had two parents. Us.”
“Okay, but where were you?” A rhetorical question she answered. “Long gone.”
“I didn’t know, Chloe!” Cupping the back of his neck, he began to pace. “Genevieve came here the day before I left. Said she found the pregnancy test in the trash can but not to worry. You made an appointment at a clinic. You wanted to stay here and finish school, then go to college locally.” He stopped, blowing out a deep breath. “She said you were having second thoughts but were too scared to tell me yourself. Afraid I’d get mad and fly off the handle.”
“Have I ever been scared of you?”
“No.”
“Have I ever shared secrets with Genevieve?”
“No.”
“She found the test, that’s true. And under pressure, I told her our plans. She was pissed and, after that, wouldn’t even let me leave the house.” She tilted her head toward the Cape Cod next door. “No way was she letting me leave the state with you.”
“You should have told me.”
“There was nothing to tell. I snuck out, packed suitcase in hand, and waited here.” She pointed down. “In this spot, as planned. Prepared to leave with you and start our life. You’d already gone, come to find out.”
His eyes cold, he wore the expression of a man who’d been to war. “Her days on Earth are numbered.”
“I’ll dig the grave if you carry the body?”
“It’ll be messy, Chloe.” He looked away. “You don’t wanna see that.”
She was joking.
He was not.
“Genevieve alive or dead, Jameson, doesn’t change the facts. You left, and I had to make the hardest decision of my life. Under the impression it was by your choice.”
“None of this is by my choice,” he insisted. “That fucking adoption wasn’t my choice, and I didn’t sign a damn thing approving it. He’s mine, and I’m getting him back.”
“He’s not yours, nor is he mine. The day he was born, I did what was best for him. Not for me, not for you. For him. The state of New York allowed you six months from the date of adoption to contest. You didn’t.”
“I didn’t know!”
“Because you didn’t want to know.”
“That’s so unfair.”
“If you have any paternal love for him, you’ll leave this alone. Upending his life would be unfair. Making him question everything he knows to be true would be unfair.”
She paused at the pained look on his face.
“They love him, Jameson. He’s taken care of. They’re good parents.”
“I would have been a good parent!” He banged his chest, instantly incredulous. “It wasn’t for you to decide, Chloe. I had a say.”
“A good parent from what war zone? From what third world country you called home-sucky-home during your Navy days? He was in elementary school by the time you retired. And now? You wanna be a hands-on dad from ten thousand leagues under the sea?”
His gaze narrowed, and he didn’t reply.
“I would’ve been a teen mom. Writing term papers and studying for a calculus test while breastfeeding. Up all night with a colicky baby, then falling asleep in history class. Dropping out because I couldn’t afford daycare.”
He scoffed. “Your family has resources.”
“If money equals love, why was I the loneliest child in The Hamptons?”
In the city, with her dad, she was loved.
In East Hampton, with her mom, she was somewhat liked—from afar.
“I wanted him, and I wanted you,” she added. “The family we planned. But I couldn’t do it alone.”
“You could’ve made a different choice, Chloe.”
“Let me get this straight so I understand. First, you’re judgmental and furious because you think I had an abortion. Now, you’re judgmental and furious because I didn’t?”
“Yes, I’m furious at you. I’m furious at Genevieve. I’m furious at myself.”
“I’m glad you’re holding yourself accountable.” She dripped sarcasm.
Not clapping back, he paced.
“How’d you pick them? Who the fuck are they?” The Hennessey’s, he meant. “They could be goddamn human traffickers, or drug users, or the kind of people who won’t let him watch TV.”
She laughed.
“My dad did a deeper background dive than the FBI or NSA could do. Mick is an orthodontist in private practice. Marlene used to work in advertising but stays home with Johnny now. Has a yoga studio on the side. The only drugs they do are vitamin B injections and wheat germ shooters. Regarding TV, he wore a different SpongeBob SquarePants T-shirt every day the year he turned three, so I think they let him watch cartoons.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m aware of the gravity of the situation.” She had years to come to terms. He had hours. “The Hennessey’s are aware, too. I can guarantee you I’ll be receiving a certified letter from their lawyer, reminding me I am no longer his mother. That I must cease any attempts to see him, even at long range. And that’s because of you. I don’t have my son because of you.”
“Right back at ya, cupcake. I thought Maine Lane was bad. Little did I know houses were amateur for you.” Then he tilted his head. “Wait, how did Graham handle this?”
“He considered hiring a hit man. Then a private investigator to haul you back and make you marry me. Then, he just sort of lost it. Cried a bit. Held me while I cried. Yelled a bit. Stood there while I yelled. His anger has cooled, it seems,” she muttered. “You two are bros now.”
“Did he want the adoption?”
“I don’t know. I begged him to tell me what to do. He always said the same thing. ‘I can’t make this decision for you. You have to make it yourself. I support you no matter what.’ He didn’t want his opinion to sway me. I needed to be able to live with myself.”
She shook her head, those days still fresh.
“Genevieve was a doting mother in front of him, of course. Away from him, she enjoyed relishing how I screwed up my life, and your life too, and how if I kept the baby, I’d screw him up as well. That he’d resent me because he didn’t have a dad.”
“If you want her to live,” he said in a lethal tone, “Do not tell me things like that. You really thought I intentionally left you?”
“You really thought I could have an abortion?” she replied, turning the tables. She was pro-choice. She just chose not to have one.
“Genevieve can be convincing,” he said as if that absolved him.
“True. Nonetheless, you walked away.”
Hurt filled his eyes. “After ten years and one majorly fucked up decision that ruined my life, you really don’t know me, do you? You never did.”