They rode down silently in the elevator. Now that the initial stress of the meeting was over, he took his time to study Nathaniel Did he ever smile? Tristan wondered. The man was F-I-N-E! Broad shoulders, trim waist, and strong and oh so long legs that seemed to go on forever. He had a natural swimmer’s build or should he say, surfer. All that blond hair pulled back in what he was reluctant to call a man bun but was close enough to fit. He could literally write songs about those eyes, the same eyes he saw every day in his baby girl, but oh so different.
That face, with Slavic cheekbones, gorgeous, full, lush lips he was giving him major Ben Dahlhaus/Chris Hemsworth vibes before they cut all that luscious hair that is. Dammit, the man was sex on a stick; he was a genuinely beautiful man with the beard and golden locks. If he smiled, it would be downright sinful. At six feet, he was above average height, but Nathaniel topped him at probably 6’3 or 6’4. Add that mysterious, untouchable aura he had going for him, and it made him damn near irresistible, he found himself thinking. Not that he noticed like that or anything.
Nathaniel caught him looking once or twice, but each time he simply stared back, raising his eyebrow in question. He shrugged, not replying.
Standing this close, he could smell a trace scent of whatever cologne he used, but under that was a scent he knew was all Nathaniel and pure male. He wanted to breathe the man in.
Before the elevator doors opened, Nathaniel said, “I know that this has been a terrible shock and that you need time for it to sink in, we both do, but thanks for making this less…” He waved his hands searching for a word.
Nathaniel looked straight into his eyes for countless seconds, nodded at him, and sighed, knowing exactly what he was trying to say, and that was enough. They both knew what he meant.
When the elevator doors opened, he asked, all back to business, “Where are you parked?” Like that moment hadn’t just happened.
“Not far from the front,” he replied, pulling his keys out of his pocket.
Nathaniel walked alongside him until they parted ways, going in opposite directions. He heard him say, “See you on Saturday, Tristan.”
“Can’t wait,” he quipped back.
He realized the other man said his name twice, and each time his body had an involuntary tingle go up his spine.
Curious, he thought, even though he wasn’t willing to look at it too closely. He simply chalked it up to hearing his name in that raspy voice.
He pointed his car towards Teo’s, needing to put this day behind him. He needed his daughter and his best friends.
As he put the hospital in his rearview, he found himself wondering what would make a man like Nathaniel Alexander smile.
8
Nathaniel
After that meeting, his emotions had gone from blind fury and denial to grief-stricken but wary acceptance had soon settled in his heart. He would do anything for Emma, and if saving her life meant doing this, then his heart and head were on board and in complete agreement.
Several attempts later and he couldn’t seem to get the key in the ignition. Not surprising when his head was in turmoil. He wanted to vent his frustration, rage at the unfairness of the situation. He wanted to shout and bang the steering wheel with his clenched fist.
Why did he feel such a strong yearning for that child out there that he had never even met? He was scared. Would there be some inborn feeling in him towards her or vice versa? And what if there was, what would he do then? He couldn’t give Emma up. He just couldn’t!
Nathaniel didn’t care what any blood tests proved. Emma belonged to him.
He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. No matter what it took.
He shook himself out of all the mental back and forth. He knew it would lead nowhere.
He would admit a selfish part of him wanted both girls. He knew they were meant to work things out. But how? How were they to work things out so that each would be satisfied? Then again, if he wanted both girls, wouldn't Tristan? That couldn’t happen. He would never let that happen.
Every time he looked at her, he couldn't help but be reminded that, no matter how much he prayed that a miracle happened, she wasn't really his. That no matter how much he loved her, and how much a part of his life she was, he could lose her.
He knew better than to expect a miracle anyway. What had prayer done for him, when one of his foster brothers had beat him so badly he couldn’t walk without flinching and wished he was dead. But because he was the son of Nathaniel’s foster parents, they pretended like it wasn’t happening or laughed it off as boys being boys. Or the other foster home that he was locked in the closet for days because he broke a dish. God didn’t answer then, and he hadn’t answered now.
He knew he was lucky, things could have been so much worse for him, he wasn’t sexually assaulted at least, and that was a silver lining he was always thankful for.
Still, it hit all over again, and he still couldn't believe this had happened.
How was it possible that everything you had painstakingly built, in the blink of an eye, could be stolen from you? Because of some cruel twist of fate, entire lives could be destroyed.
What if he did lose her? It was possible. Fucking hell, anything was possible. If the internet and news were to be believed, it was entirely plausible. The precedent was not on his side he knew.
He couldn’t imagine this getting out. With his IPO going through and his net worth skyrocketing even further, the news would have a field day with this.
He had googled similar cases. He felt so sorry for the parties involved. The media had been like vultures circling, camping outside the homes of the switched babies, feeding on the grief and anguish of the parents and grandparents.
The publicity, the notoriety of it would be horrible, especially for the kids. He remembered the media circus and drama surrounding the last case of switched at birth. The headlines in all the magazines were brutal. The cover on People Magazine. Fuck! They had interviews with people that probably knew the parents in 5th grade or something equally daft. They had basically made them relive it over and over again.
He could imagine TMZ getting a hold of it and flinched inwardly. He sat thinking for a long time after. He turned the situation over and over in his mind, searching for a solution he could live with.
All he was sure of was one way or another, no matter what, he was forever linked to Tristan Callahan. Till Samantha and Emma were grown, and even then, their lives would still remain entangled.
He sighed. He couldn’t sit in his car in the parking lot much longer, and he had two kids at home waiting for him. Plus he felt like he needed to hold his kids. He needed that reassurance that they were a family and nothing could change that, so he started his Mercedes GLS and headed towards home.
9
Tristan
“I saw her picture today,” he said to his friends while drinking his fourth or fifth, okay probably sixth glass of wine. He wasn’t quite sure at this point.
From the hospital, he had gone straight to Teo’s. All his friends, even Cris, who they had only seen sporadically the past year, were there.
“What would I do without you guys?” Tristan slurred at them.
“I can always count on you guys for anything and everything. You’ve always been there for me.”
He leaned on them so much, and sometimes he felt like a burden. But that wasn’t their problem. It was his because he knew they didn’t feel that way.
Samantha was on cloud nine when he got back. She had her uncles with her, and they’d had the best time.
She loved art day with her Uncle Teo. She put together puzzles with her Uncle Lain and had a princess tea party with Uncle Cris.
His daughter probably knew Teo, Lain, and Cris as well as she knew him. They had been a part of her life from the very beginning. From the moment he took her home, they were there.
Hell, she had her own room at her Uncle Teo’s house. In fact, she was currently asleep in the room.
Teo
loved children, and he couldn’t wait to be a dad. He would make an excellent one.
“You’ll make a great dad, Tee. Such a great dad,” he garbled at him.
Teo didn’t say anything, just smiled at him indulgently. They were used to him getting all sappy when he was super drunk. Which didn’t happen often, but he was so allowed right now.
He knew he could get completely buzzed, and they wouldn’t judge. Hell, he could cry his eyes out, and they wouldn’t judge. Not that it would be the first time.
It was either get buzzed or cry. He chose the former.
“I saw her picture today,” he repeated
“I wish we were there,” Lain said.
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Teo and Cris said at almost the same time. They looked at each other and chuckled.
“Trust Tris to give us another niece without putting a ring on it or getting laid,” Lain teased with a wink.
He knew he could be completely honest with his friends. No judgment or reproach. And he so badly needed to share because even getting drunk wasn’t silencing his mind.
He needed them to help him put things in order.
“What do you need, Tris?” Teo asked. He was always the sweet one. He knew if he needed someone to listen, no advice, no nothing, just be there and listen, Teo was the guy. He would stay up and listen to him rant and panic or just sit silently on the phone and listen to him breathe when he needed the reassurance that someone was there on the other end of the line.
Lain was a fixer. He was all lists and research. He liked logical shit. He was the one to get it done. And then Cris would feed you and baby you to death. He was literally the ultimate caretaker. He could not stand to see anyone hurting.
“Talk to us, Tris. You know we’ll do whatever needs doing. We love Samantha,” Teo said.
Tris felt like crying all over. He loved Teo. He was the best friend anyone could ask for. He remembered calling him and telling him about the ultimatum his parents had given him. “Be straight or be gone and you’re no longer our son.” He had told them that pigs could fly and he would still be gay. Nothing could change that.
They’d thrown him out that night; a part of him hadn’t thought they were serious. Sure, they’d always been cold and unavailable, but like most kids, he thought his parents loved him in their own way. Boy was he wrong!
He actually thought they would come around after the initial coming out settled. But they hadn’t, and they didn’t.
He ended up at the Wrights and stayed in Teo’s room the first week. By the time he came back from school on the Friday of that week, Mrs. Wright or Sonya or Mom as she insisted he call her, had a room ready for him. She handed him a laptop and a card and told him, “This is your home. Decorate your room how you like.”
Teo was more than just his friend; he was his brother.
Tristan sighed and told them everything. He also found himself talking about Nathaniel Alexander more than necessary, which judging from the looks his friends were exchanging, he knew they had noticed. He also knew they would wait till he was less emotional to torture him about it.
He told them about seeing that picture that could have been Shannon. About wanting to meet her. He told them about wanting to hold Emma and Sammy tight and never let either one of them go.
“She looks just like Shay, guys. Like if I put the pictures side by side, the only difference would be the clothes and the background.
“I know I shouldn’t say this, but a part of me wants both girls. Like I want both Samantha and Emma with me always.
“What if I lose Emma because she’s sick, and I also have to give Samantha to him?”
He didn’t have to say who “him” was. They already knew.
“Stop being crazy, Tris. That’s not going to happen. You’re not going to lose either one of them. You’ll figure it out, and we’ll be right here to help,” Lain said.
“I read about another switched at birth case, guys, which was probably a horrible idea, I know because all it did was fuel my anxiety.”
“They didn’t find out about the switch till the kids were grown. I tried to imagine that, you know. What if one day I was at the shop and a grown-up version of Shannon walked in?” Tristan couldn’t even wrap his mind around that.
“I know speculating won’t solve anything anyway, but I can’t help it. As much as I hate knowing. Then I imagine never knowing, and I’m not sure which scares me more.”
His friends didn’t try to placate him or lie to him and say it was fine. Teo just held him like he always did. He was such a tactile person that way.
He knew he would look like a horrible mess tomorrow, all red and puffy, but he cried out all his anxiety and fears. He shouted his frustration at the situation, and Teo just held him tight. The same way he did the night he lost Shannon.
He considered calling his parents and telling them. But what was the point? They hadn’t spoken to him since they lost the court case for custody of Samantha.
By the time he was all cried out, he said, “We agreed to meet. You know, get to meet each other’s kids, so it’s less scary for them when we have to tell them.
“I also have to set up appointments with the doctor to get tested and see if I’m a match.”
Lain tried to add some levity to the situation, “You probably should stop drinking then. You don’t want your liver getting an F or somethin’.”
They all chuckled slightly. “God, I hope I’m a match, guys. I couldn’t save Shay, but if I can save her child…I would lay down my life for her in an instant to stop her suffering,” he whispered and sighed, completely exhausted.
His friends looked at each other and sighed. All they said was, “We know, Tris. We know. Whatever you need.”
His mind wandered. He couldn’t lie he was intrigued by Nathaniel, even with the man’s intensity and inability to smile. It was interesting too, seeing how much of Sammy had come from him.
The eyes. He couldn’t stop looking at his eyes that could have been a mirror of Samantha’s.
He’d gone in there prepared to despise the man he held responsible for this mess. But how could he hate someone who looked like his baby girl, and who loved Shay’s child as much as Nathaniel did?
He would admit. He couldn’t get a good read on the man. He had aloofness down to an art form. But with every word he spoke, you could hear his love for his child. It dripped off him. Every word he spoke, the look in his eyes at the mention of her name. You couldn’t fake that.
Whatever his other flaws, he seemed to genuinely love his little girl. So for that, he was willing to give the man a chance.
He lay down on Teo’s fluffy rug and let his mind wonder about the coming weeks.
Well, his life would be anything but boring. That’s for damn sure.
“At least he’s nice to look at,” he said to them.
“Way to find the silver lining, buddy,” Lain deadpanned.
10
Nathaniel
He looked out of his window, out to the ocean beyond, and thought about all the things that had been running through his mind on a continuous loop since this whole ordeal began.
When he let the guilt come, his mind went to thoughts like “Shouldn’t he have realized a mistake like that had been made? Shouldn’t he have known his own child?”
He’d been a loner for so long. He didn’t even have anyone he was close enough to share this with. Then again, any attempt to console him would be pointless. It wouldn’t change the situation.
His shoulders sagged. Sometimes he felt like he had the weight of the world on them.
To anyone on the outside looking in he was Nathaniel Ryan Alexander, Wunderkind. Thirty-two years old and the driving force behind Rytech Inc. His name was synonymous with technology and innovation.
He was wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. So why did he sometimes feel like that lost eight-year-old, sitting in a dark apartment waiting for his mother to come home?
He sighed. The first time he
had felt real joy was going into that hospital and holding his daughter for the first time. He wouldn’t lie to himself. The money, the houses, the cars, everything he had never had growing up, they were all fuckin’ fantastic. But even with all that, there was a loneliness he could never shed till his kids came along. If he was being honest, it was still there. Never completely gone.
And now everything was changing yet again. He knew he had control issues. He liked having things just so. It made him feel safe. He wasn’t a fan of change at all. And here these people came disrupting everything. Telling him that the child he had raised and loved for the past four years wasn’t his child at all.
Hot tears burned his eyes now, but he wouldn’t let them fall. He was all cried out. He pulled on the long strands of his hair, ran his hand over his beard, sighing. Introspection wouldn’t solve anything. That was for sure.
The only thing he was certain of was Emma was his. Just as much as Wyatt was. Nobody could change that.
That made him think about Tristan Callahan. Before meeting him, he could pretend this was some sick joke. But after meeting the man, after seeing him, there wasn’t any doubt that he was related to Emma.
Then he thought about the child. The child Tristan was raising. Samantha. For all intents and purposes also his child. Whose existence until a few weeks ago he had not been aware of. A child who somehow resembled him, a child that he could never have imagined, but was also his. No matter how much he hated the situation, and he detested it, he had to admit that Samantha was his too.
She had the same violet-blue eyes he did. The eyes that people always seemed to comment on. The eyes the press always seemed to mention. The same eyes Wyatt had. She had high, sculpted cheekbones, with her solemn face and the small smile he recalled from the pictures he had gone through. She had the same seriousness he knew he had, but without the wariness and distrust, life and experience had thrust upon him from a young age.
A Family For Keeps Page 6
