“I don’t . . .” I dragged a hand over my beard, scrambling for something to say.
Fuck. The mob? I didn’t know a damn thing about the mafia other than what I’d seen in movies and television. Hollywood embellished, but I was sure there was a thread of truth.
“Is that why you moved here?” I asked. “To escape the city?”
“No. I could have stayed, rented an apartment and found a job in New York, but the city had lost its appeal. Mostly because of my family. Putting thousands of miles between me and Oliver was just a bonus. I moved here because Montana sounded like a dream. I wanted Drake to have space to breathe. To roam and play. A home where the Ward name meant nothing and no one would attempt to control his life by holding a trust fund over his head.”
“Makes sense.” If I had her family, I probably would have split for the countryside too. Except I didn’t know if I would have walked from that kind of money.
I’d thought it the first time she’d told me, but God, she was strong. Not many people would have walked away from millions. If Drake ever doubted her love for him, I’d be there to set him straight.
“Oliver . . .” She made a sour face. “When we met, I didn’t know who he was. I hadn’t heard his name before. It’s not like he’s ever in the news. And there are plenty of rich men in New York.”
I tensed, my shoulders stiffening. This was never going to be easy to hear. I didn’t like the idea of her with any other man, but especially the one who’d helped her make Drake.
Part of me would be jealous of that son of a bitch all my life.
“We met in a hotel in Miami,” she said. “In the bar. I was there for work. So was he. We hit it off and spent the weekend together. Neither of us shared a lot of personal details. It wasn’t that type of weekend.”
My skin crawled but I sat quietly and listened, my teeth grinding together.
“It wasn’t until the end of the weekend that we realized we were both from New York. He asked if he could see me again. I’d had fun, so of course I said yes. Oliver is older, in his early forties. He’s charismatic. Handsome. Wealthy. Powerful. Being around him was . . . addicting. And I was a spoiled, stupid fool.”
There was so much guilt in her voice. So much shame. It weighed on her slight shoulders and dimmed the light in her eyes.
“We started dating, if you could even call it dating. We spent most of our time at my townhouse. Some at his Upper East Side apartment. He was an entrepreneur. I worked constantly. But he was my escape. And I loved him. Or . . . I thought I loved him.” Her forehead furrowed. “Can you love someone when they keep you in a bubble?”
“No, probably not.” I’d thought I loved Gianna. Would have sworn it in blood. Except what we’d had wasn’t love. Not even close.
“He didn’t share many personal details. Neither did I. Communication was not the leading lady in our relationship. He asked me early on if we could keep our relationship to ourselves, just to see where it was going before it became public. That was fine by me because I was happy to keep him to myself. But after three months, I wanted more. I wanted to tell my friends. I wanted to show him off. So I asked him if he would accompany me to a party. It was this fancy, audacious function but I used to love fancy and audacious.”
“Really?” That didn’t seem like her at all.
“A lot has changed.” She lifted a shoulder and nodded at Drake. “That version of me died the day he was born.”
“Or maybe you found who you’d always been meant to be.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Maybe.”
“What happened at the party?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t go. I asked him to be my date and he told me that he couldn’t go because his wife would be there. He said it like it was obvious. That I should have known I was just his mistress.”
“You had no idea.”
More guilt and more shame clouded her face. “No. Maybe I should have. But the old version of me liked the bubble.”
“You trusted him.”
“A mistake.”
“Not yours, honey.” That motherfucker had deceived her intentionally.
“I broke it off. Called him a lot of names and told him to forget mine. Then a few weeks later, I wasn’t feeling well. I missed my period and . . .”
“You found out you were pregnant.”
She touched Drake’s cheek. “I was lax with my birth control. Irresponsibility was another flaw of the former me. I’d miss a day on my pill. I’d spend the night at his place and head straight into work, doubling up the next morning. Basically, I was a fucking idiot. But I don’t regret it.”
“You shouldn’t.” That little boy was a miracle.
From the sounds of it, he’d transformed Memphis’s life. It was nearly impossible to look at her and imagine the woman she was describing. She was probably just being too hard on herself. But I didn’t doubt that she’d changed.
“The whole truth came out after that. That apartment of his wasn’t his home. It was just where he’d hidden his secret whore.” Her chin quivered. “My dad called me a whore today.”
“What the fuck?” God, I wished I had punched that asshole in the face yesterday. I shouldn’t have let her go and talk to them alone.
Memphis shrugged, her eyes avoiding mine.
“Look at me.” I waited until she lifted her chin. “Fuck him for saying that.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Still . . . Google would have told me exactly who Oliver was. I looked him up the day he told me he was married. The internet was very informative. That was the second-worst day of my life. The day I realized just how gullible and shallow I was.”
“This is not your fault. Trusting someone you care about is not wrong.”
She met my gaze, her eyes softening. We’d both been fooled by the ones we’d loved. I’d trusted Gianna too.
The distance between us was too much, so I stood and skirted the coffee table, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Then I took Drake from her arms, keeping hold as I pulled her to the guest bedroom.
Before long, we’d get a real crib. We’d haul this bed out of here and make it a nursery. Drake needed his own room.
I laid Drake in his crib, then pulled Memphis to the mattress, curling her into my chest. “What happened when you told him you were pregnant?”
“By that point, I’d learned who his wife was and the speculation about her family. It scared the hell out of me. I was afraid that she’d find out about the affair, about the baby, and decide to come after us. I wasn’t going to tell Oliver at all, but he showed up at my house one day.”
“Did he want you back?”
“No, he wanted my silence. He threw in a few threats about his wife and how she was often jealous. How she was connected to a dangerous family and it would be a shame to have trouble for my own family’s business. It was all very practiced, a message he’d obviously delivered before. He offered me fifty thousand dollars to keep our affair quiet.”
I leaned back, meeting her eyes. “But you didn’t take it, did you?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t want his money. All I wanted was his agreement. That my child was mine and mine alone. I’d stay quiet if he signed over all rights.”