I felt foolish. “I’m sorry. The tears, I don’t know. It wasn’t you or anything—I don’t know,” I blurted out, not able to explain what happened.
“It’s okay, I get it. I do, really,” he said, gently kissing my lips.
I stood there, letting him wash me before he attended to himself. The water went from hot to warm to an icy cold.
“Go!” he yelled, laughing as the water hit him on the backside.
I started giggling and pushed the door open. I stood there, naked, dripping water on his bathroom floor. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me before grabbing another one for himself. He quickly dried his hair and then wrapped it around his body.
“Hungry?” he asked, leading the way out of the bathroom.
“I am, but I would be more interested in a cup of coffee. Please tell me you have coffee?”
He rolled his eyes. “Duh. Who doesn’t have coffee?”
We walked into his bedroom, where he picked up my thong and handed it to me before going to his chest of drawers and pulling out another one of his t-shirts.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Put this on, and I’ll get the coffee started.”
I did as he asked and met him in the kitchen, taking a seat at the small bar that divided the kitchen and dining room. Something was wrong. I could tell by the way he was moving—and not meeting my eyes.
Had I freaked him out with my post-coital crying?
He sat down next to me. I could feel something big coming and did what I could to brace myself. It was over. It was over before it ever got started.
“I need to tell you something,” he started, and I cringed.
Nodding, my throat was closing up, knowing what was coming. I refused to cry. I swallowed the lump that felt as big as a golf ball in my throat.
He put a hand on my knee. “Not that. No. Definitely not that.”
“Okay, then what? Do you have a terminal disease? Are you really still married? What?” My mind whirred trying to guess what had him so visibly upset.
“It’s about Miriam.” When I flinched, leaning back and away from him, he squeezed my knee. “Please, I need to get this out.”
“I’m sorry, go ahead, just tell me.”
He exhaled a long breath. “I asked her to marry me because she got pregnant after we had a brief fling. I was young, barely out of college and a little wild at the time. She got pregnant and threatened to keep the baby from me if I didn’t marry her. So, we got married. It wasn’t a happy marriage, but I tried. She tried.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, feeling a little bad for him.
He gave a wan smile. “That wasn’t the worst of it. About six months after Ally was born, Miriam and I got into a horrible fight. She told me that Ally wasn’t mine. I thought she was lying but did a DNA test. Ally wasn’t mine. By the time I found out this baby girl I had loved with every fiber of my being wasn’t mine, I was too attached. I couldn’t divorce Miriam then because I would never see Ally again, so we stayed married.”
“Wow,” I muttered, not sure what else to say.
He nodded. “When they died, I was mired in guilt. I didn’t dislike Miriam and would never wish her dead, but I didn’t love her, and our marriage was awful. I grieved for Ally. Even though she wasn’t my biological daughter—she truly was mine.”
I took his hand and brought it to my cheek, before turning to kiss his palm. “I’m sorry.”
He smiled. “Thank you. I needed you to understand what drove me to give up on everything. I became a shut-in, quit my job and wallowed in self-pity and guilt. I loathed myself and who I was. I couldn’t face anyone. I have carried around this, this hate for what I allowed to happen. I never got a chance to make it right. I have always wondered if I loved Ally enough. Did she know I wasn’t her biological dad?” He groaned and shook his head. “I pray she didn’t. No one else knew. You’re the only person I’ve ever told. Jake doesn’t even know.”
I scooted off my stool and wrapped my arms around him. As I held him tight, I could feel his burden slipping away the longer I held on. His confession explained the self-loathing I had first noticed in him, and I wanted more than ever to make it all go away.
I couldn’t, so I just held him tighter. It was all I could do for him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ian