“You had your chance,” she says as she stands. “Just leave me.”
“I can’t,” I say, standing in front of her. “Just give me this chance.”
“If I give you this one chance,” she says, “promise me that after this, you will leave me alone.”
There is no way in fuck I can promise that or would, but I know that if I don’t, she won’t come with me, so I lie to her for the first time ever. “I promise.”
“I need to change. I’ll meet you in the front,” she says. I nod my head and watch as she picks up her boots and goes inside the house.
I’m about to walk to the front of the house when I see Casey walking toward me with a white coffee cup in his hand. His eyes narrow on me. “What are you doing here?” he asks me when he gets close enough. “She walked home by herself.”
“She was never by herself,” I say and look at the ground. “I was following her. I was just giving her space.”
“Not enough space if you’re here again,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Well, if I get my way, you’ll be seeing my face daily,” I say, and I don’t wait for him to answer. Instead, I walk to the front and wait for her beside my truck. When the door opens and she steps out, my breath hitches like every other time. She’s wearing white shorts this time with a beige top showing off her stomach, and she’s carrying a thermos cup in each hand. Her hair blows softly in the wind. I open the door for her, and she hands me a coffee.
“My mother sent this for you,” she says and climbs in the truck. I wait for her to sit before I close the door, then I walk to my side of the truck. Looking up at the front door where Charlotte stands, I just nod at her. I get in the car and hear her take a deep inhale. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Let’s,” I say, and I make my way to my house. She has never been to my house, and I’m hoping that she doesn’t refuse to come in, but with the secret I have to tell her, there is no way I could do it out in the open. As much as I love her, I still have to protect my son, and having the secret out into the world will put him in more danger than I care to think about.
I pull up to my house and press the button for the garage and drive in. “I thought we were going to do this at the creek,” she says softly beside me.
“What I need to tell you can’t be said there,” I say, and she looks down at the cup in her hand.
“Is this your house?” she asks me and then looks at me.
“Yes,” I say. “Give me fifteen minutes, and if you still want to leave, I’ll take you home.”
She debates a bit and then opens the door. I get out with her and wait for her at the stairs that lead to the mud room. I open the door for her and wait for her to step in, and she doesn’t move from the entryway.
“This way,” I say and lead her from the mud room through the white kitchen toward the family room. It’s the room where we spend all our time. Her eyes roam around the room toward the back wall that holds the fireplace and the television on top of it, but her eyes pause on the framed pictures on the built-in shelves. Ethan’s first day at school. His first Christmas. Pictures of us fishing together. The pictures are all there, but one thing is clear. This is where I live with my son.
“I’m here,” she says, trying not to make eye contact with me. “What do you have to say?” I take a deep breath, and for the first time, I tell her my side of the story.
Chapter Eighteen
Kallie
I fell asleep with his kiss on my lips and my heart heavier than it’s ever been before. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to be there with me when I got up.
His eyes shine as he watched me, asking him to give him a chance to tell his side of the story. It was too little, too late, my brain screamed while my heart said to give him this one chance. I got in his truck with my mother’s words lingering in my mind. “He isn’t the only one keeping secrets, Kallie.”
No, he wasn’t, and before this day was over, he would know my secret. He would know it all. I looked out the window, watching the trees pass us by without saying a word, not realizing we were going so far out of the way until we pulled up to a white house with wooden slates around the big windows. We pull into the garage, and I know we are at his house. His house where he lives with his child and God knows who else. I don’t want to get out, but we need to have this talk. I follow him to the mud room, and I try not to look around and invade his privacy. We walk past the white kitchen on one side and a dining room table on the other with eight chairs. A schoolbag sits in the middle of the table with some papers stacked on top.
We walk into the family room, and my eyes go to the pictures on the shelves. Pictures of his life with his son. I try to calm my heart as I feel a panic attack coming on. In and out, I tell myself.
“I’m here,” I say to him, not looking at him. “What do you have to say?” He takes a deep breath, and I look at him.
“Jesus,” he says, putting his hand on his neck and looking up at the ceiling. “I’ve gone over this speech so many times in my head, but now that it’s here, I don’t even know where to start,” he says and laughs, but a tear comes out of his eyes. “Before I even start, I want to make one thing clear. I’ve never ever stopped loving you, even when I didn’t want to.”
“I think I need to sit down,” I say and slowly sit on the couch, facing him. He sits on the couch and rests his elbows on his knees. “You asked me before the biggest question, when did it happen?” he starts, and I suddenly think I’m going to be sick. Maybe I don’t want to know this. Maybe I should just accept that they were together. “The answer to that is—”
“Stop,” I say, and I silently sob. “I know I wanted to know, but I don’t think I can.”
“Never,” he whispers, and my head snaps back. “Never.” He shakes his head as tears pour out of him. “I was never with her.”
“What?” I ask him as my head spins. “I don’t …”
“Savannah came to me the night of prom and told me she was pregnant,” he says, his legs shaking now. “I was shocked. I had no idea she was dating anyone, let alone with someone.” I don’t know if I’m actually hearing this properly. “She was scared, petrified actually, and she had no idea what to do. Her mother was …” I put my hand up because I know exactly what her mother was. “She asked me to help her, and it just happened so fast. My head was spinning, and then you were there in front of me, and the whispers were already starting.”
“You stood there in front of me and admitted it,” I say, angry with him, and I jump up.
“I never admitted anything, Kallie,” he says softly. “Trust me, you think I forgot the moment my world shattered around me? I never said it was mine. I never ever said those words.”
“But you said you could explain,” I say, the night coming back to me. “Why would you need to explain anything if it wasn’t yours?” I sit back down, looking into the same eyes of the man who stood in front of me eight years ago begging to let him explain.