Jake looked between the two of us, and I could see his mind process this information. Then he turned to face me, and I could barely look him in the eye for shame.
“So when you told me about your no good father who had another family—”
“Daphne was his first child… Isabelle was his wife,” I stammered. “And my mother was his…”
“Plaything?” Jake demanded angrily.
“I… yes,” I said, hanging my head.
“Now, Jake,” Isabelle said, coming forward. “This isn’t so bad.”
“I trusted you,” he said, ignoring Isabelle and staring daggers at me. “I… I fell for you. You had months to tell me this, and you didn’t.”
“I meant to tell you,” I said pleadingly.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I was scared of how you would react,” I said, tripping over my words. “At first you were so different to what I’d imagined, and I didn’t feel comfortable telling you who I was, and then after I was comfortable enough to tell you… I just… I was scared of how you would take it.”
“So you just decided never to tell me?” he asked incredulously.
“No, of course, I was going to tell you—”
“When?” he demanded. “Before or after you’d trapped me?”
I deserved his venom, but it still stung nevertheless. I felt tears in my eyes instantly, and I forced myself to push them back. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. It was weak and pathetic, and it was asking for sympathy when really, truly I felt I deserved none.
“Jake,” I said, taking a step towards him. “I care about you so—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, turning away from me. “Just go.”
“But—”
“I said go!” he said, in a voice that was harsh and cold and very similar to the man he had been before he had gotten involved with me.
“Jake,” Isabelle said, stepping in. “Maybe you should just hear her out.”
My heart swelled with gratitude for Isabelle, and I marveled at how incredibly gracious a woman she was, especially after all she had suffered at my mother’s hands. That she could stand there,
knowing I had effectively stepped into the space her daughter had filled and not hate me was mind-boggling to me. I had never met a woman with that much grace and composure.
“I don’t think she meant to hurt anyone,” Isabelle said.
Jake just turned to her and glared until she backed down. Then he turned back to me. “Get out.”
I rushed towards the door just as I heard a little voice call out my name. “Krissy?” Noah called. “Where are you going?”
His little cherub face was slightly distressed, and I guessed that he had heard part of the exchange between his father and me.
I forced on a brave face and smiled at him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I said, proud of the fact that my voice didn’t shake. “I have to go.”
“But…cookies?”
“Another time, okay?” I said, knowing that there would probably never be another time. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Hug first,” Noah said, stretching out to me.
I hugged him tightly, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then headed straight towards the door without looking back. I was almost at the elevator when I heard Isabelle’s voice calling out my name. Feeling the tears slip from my eyes I turned.