“Where are you?”
“At the train station,” she pants. “I’m out of breath because I just jogged up several flights of stairs and still missed the damn train.”
“I got the results,” I blurt.
“Shit. Give me a sec to find somewhere more private to talk.”
I nibble on my lips and my foot taps on the floor as I wait for her to move to a quieter spot.
“Okay. I’m good now. Talk to me.”
“I haven’t opened the envelope. I’ve just been staring at it, feeling like I’m going to throw up.”
“Rip the Band-Aid off, Viv. At least this way, you will know what you’re dealing with.”
“I’m so scared, Rey,” I whisper, as I cut the top of the envelope with my silver letter opener. “I don’t want anything to change. I don’t want Reeve to leave me. I don’t want to ruin Easton’s life.”
“Breathe, Viv. Please just breathe. God, I wish I was there with you.”
“Me too,” I admit, pulling the report out of the envelope with trembling fingers.
“It’s going to be okay. Reeve won’t leave you. He will be upset and angry for a while, but he loves you and Easton too much to walk away. And look at it this way; if Dillon is Easton’s father, he gets two dads. That won’t ruin his life. He might be confused for a while after he finds out, but you will love him and reassure him, and he’ll be okay. He’s an awesome little boy. He’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.” I swallow over the thick lump in my throat. “I needed to hear that.”
“I know you did, babe. You’ve got to remember this isn’t your fault. You didn’t know they were twins.”
I place my phone on speaker, setting it down on my dresser as I unfold the letter. Tears blur my vision as I read, plopping onto the page with finality. Sobs burst from my chest as the floodgates open.
“Viv? What does it say?” Audrey asks as I cry.
“I…it’s…I,” I splutter, unable to form words over the messy ball of emotion clogging the back of my throat. Audrey waits me out, reminding me she’s here for me. I stare at my tearstained face in the mirror. My makeup is ruined, but that’s the least of my concerns. Grabbing a tissue, I dab at the dampness on my cheeks and try to rein in my emotions. “Oh God, Audrey,” I rasp as a fresh layer of pain presses down on my chest.
“You’re going to be okay, Viv. Take deep breaths. In and out. You need to calm down.”
I do as she suggests, and gradually, I am composed enough to confirm what I’ve suspected since the twin truth was revealed. “Reeve isn’t Easton’s father. Dillon is.”
6
VIVIEN
My hand shakes as I lift my glass of sparkling water to my lips, keeping the false smile plastered on my face like I’ve done all night, from the moment I set foot in the hotel. The paternity results are only one of my concerns though. Reeve has barely spoken to me since I arrived. While it’s been difficult to get alone time—because Reeve is the guest speaker this year, and he’s in high demand—there have been a few moments at the table during dinner when we had time to ourselves, and my husband ignored me, eating his dinner instead of talking to me.
I’ve suspected all day that something happened last night, but I’m one hundred percent confident now Reeve is avoiding me because he’s discovered at least part of the truth. It’s the only explanation for the cold-shoulder treatment I’m receiving.
I wish I could drink alcohol because I could really use some vodka right now.
Reeve avoids eye contact with me as he delivers an emotional speech, from the podium at the top of the room, discussing the many ways the charity supports disadvantaged children and those removed from their homes due to neglect and abuse. Genuine tears pool in his eyes as he flicks through slides showing the various facilities the charity is building to offer an alternative home to some of these kids. Strong Together is a cause we are both passionate about, and we always attend the annual fundraising gala to throw our weight behind such a worthy cause.
Tonight is the first time I’m wishing we were anywhere but here.
I need to talk to Reeve.
Especially as Dillon is blowing up my cell, only adding to my stress. The sooner we get home, the better. I’ve decided I’m telling my husband everything tonight. I can’t hold off for Dillon’s showdown because it’s clear Reeve already knows something.
It’s time to come clean.
Now Dillon has the proof he is Easton’s father, I very much doubt he will broadcast the news over social media. It’s still a risk, but it’s one I have no choice but to take. My husband can hardly look at me, and the only thing worse than the truth is fragments of the truth. In this moment, I have no clue what he believes, and that’s a truly scary prospect.
After posing with Reeve and the charity directors for photos, I manage to grab him to one side for a few seconds. “Can we make our excuses and leave?” I whisper.
“Eager to get home or eager to get away from me?” he asks in a sneering tone I don’t much care for.
“We need to talk, and this can’t wait.”
“You’re right,” he snaps. “It can’t.”
I rub my hands over my belly, fighting tears as Reeve levels me with an angry look I haven’t seen in a long, long time. His eyes bore into mine, and he drops the invisible mask he’s wearing for a second, showcasing his devastation for the entire room to see. Thank fuck, no one is paying us any attention right now.
A half hour later, we finally make our goodbyes and leave the room, hand in hand. The instant we are out in the hallway, Reeve drops my hand like it’s on fire. Pain stabs holes in my heart as I hurry after my husband, half running to keep up with his long-legged strides.
Rain is plummeting from the sky in a heavy downpour that is most unusual for May. Reeve bristles with anger as we stand under the shelter of the awning while the valet retrieves our car. The porter opens an umbrella as our sleek black and gold Maserati draws up to the curb. Reeve slides his arm around my back, holding me in close as we walk carefully on slippery steps toward our car. At this proximity, I feel his entire body trembling, and my mouth turns dry.
This is bad. Really fucking bad, and I’m terrified I’m going to lose him.
Reeve directs me to the passenger side, and I turn to him as he opens the door. “You’ve been drinking. I’ll drive.”
He shakes his head, his jaw pulling taut. “I only had a few, and I’m not drunk.”
“But it’s raining and—”
“You really don’t want to push me right now, Vivien.” His eyes burn with conflicting emotions as he stares at me. “Do you honestly think I would drive if I wasn’t fit to drive? Do you think I’d put your life and our unborn child’s life at risk by driving if I wasn’t in full control of my faculties?”
Swallowing thickly, I shake my head.
“Then get in the damn car, Viv.”
I’m a quivering mess as I climb into my seat, buckling my seat belt with trembling fingers while I attempt to control my errant tear ducts.