by Lia Lee
“Oh.” Hartford glanced back at the peacefully sleeping Gerard and nodded. “Please make him wait downstairs, and I’ll wake Gerard.”
Hartford tiptoed back to Gerard and kissed him on the cheek, inhaling the scent of him. In answer, his heavy, too-strong arm came to rest around her shoulder and pulled her down on top of him.
“I like waking up like this,” he groaned when Hartford laughed into his bare chest, trying to sit upright.
“Cool. Now get up—your agent’s downstairs trying to break down the door.”
“He overreacts.” Gerard lifted higher on the pillow and switched on the TV, the same news channel that had broken the news of Gerard being a father. And he froze.
Hartford stopped as the image of Gerard in his Seahawks uniform flashed across the screen, with the newscasters needlessly narrating his epic sports achievements. The space on the screen was shared with a picture of a young woman with long red hair and abundant freckles on her nose and on the tops of her cheeks, as she carried a child. In her panicking state, Hartford decided that the child was too old to be carried by such a tiny woman. The redhead had also placed a jacket over the boy’s head as reporters screamed questions at her, but it was clear the boy had the same hair as his mother.
Hartford could feel the tension in the air crackling as the newscaster’s voice echoed in the room, loud and clear, a bomb that had already exploded and fucked everything.
“…Marianna Caster also repeatedly stated that this is not about money, and all she wants is for her four-year-old son to have a chance to know his father. The famed Seahawks player Gerard Blackstone did not respond to requests for comment. More on this story as it progresses…”
The news anchors went on to discuss facts about the evolving story, and Hartford’s ears buzzed. She heard every word and saw the red-haired woman, the pale skin, the skinny body, the exotically gorgeous freckles on her face. Hartford swallowed and jumped when Gerard’s hand pressed to her shoulder. She looked at him as if she didn’t even recognize him anymore.
“Who’s that?” she said in a voice that came up breathlessly weak and meek and pathetic.
Gerard glanced at the screen and then back at her. “I have no fucking idea. I think it’s some woman trying to cash in on the big reveal about me having a child by thrusting her own child in for some cheap publicity.”
Hartford scanned his features while he stood there, confident yet slightly worried. She opened her mouth to speak, shut it, then opened it again. “Do you know her?”
Gerard shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Gerard…” Her voice gained strength, and she could see it, the panic on his face. “That woman is one of the most unique-looking women I’ve ever laid eyes on. She has red hair down her back to her hips. You cannot forget a woman like that.”
Gerard held her gaze and parted his lips. “Maybe. I did… sleep with her…” His eyes narrowed at the TV.
“Oh my God.” Hartford stepped back.
“Hey!” He clutched her arms. “Hart, you can’t blame me for this. You and I weren’t even together.”
“Are you daft?” she cried, tears springing to her eyes. But she refused to shed them. But the traitorous liquid spilled anyway, flowing down freely. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, her body giving up against the fight. “That child is four years old!”
Gerard froze, his eyes wide. “No…”
Hartford shook her head. “The child is older than Trent.”
“No way.” Gerard was laughing now—a cold, empty, mirthless laugh. “No way in fucking hell.” Hartford stepped backward, while Gerard shook his head. “You can’t… you can’t believe that I cheated on you back in college?”
Hartford turned away and ran through the door that led to Trent’s bedroom, locking it behind her.
***
Gerard had been knocking on the door for the last hour, pleading with her to open it. She had heard him leave, and then she’d opened the door to let Trent inside the room. She’d overheard Gerard arguing with his agent downstairs; their voices really carried when both men were fuming.
Hartford dressed Trent in a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved checkered shirt and opened the door.
She froze as she spotted Gerard walking up the stairs. His eyes fell toward Trent, then to what she held in her hand, dragging behind her.
“No. Hart, no!”
His words seemed to burst out in a painful cry. The pleading disbelief in his voice broke her heart, but she looked away, clenching her teeth. This was it. This was the end to her fairy tale. She couldn’t have a family with Gerard, because he’d always let her down. She’d have been glad if he’d actually kicked her and Trent out of the house.
Her memories from all those years ago had been pristine, flawless. Gerard had loved her to the moon and back. But now she’d learned that everything back then had been false. Everything this relationship was based on was a lie, because even when they were supposedly in love, he’d been cheating on her.
He grabbed her arms. “I won’t let you go!” he hissed in her face.
“Leave me.”
“No.” His voice fell to a pleading tone. “I didn’t cheat on you, Hart, I promise. Maybe they made a mistake in reporting it.”
“You said you remembered being with her.”
“Not while you and I were together!” he yelled, and Trent visibly jumped at the sudden loud yell.
Hartford gasped and belatedly, realization struck Gerard. He rubbed his forehead in helplessness. Thankfully the nanny appeared at the top of the stairs, watching Hartford with a shuttered, sympathetic gaze as she took Trent’s hand and led him downstairs.
Hartford fought the disgust, the misery. “You’ve humiliated me,” she bit out through clenched teeth. “The entire country knows about your shenanigans. My family, our friends, all those back home.” She glared at him wordlessly, expressionlessly. “I told my parents you and I were back together,” she said slowly, then smiled sarcastically. “What a monumental fool I made of myself! No, I’m going back with my son. And you won’t be anywhere near us. I forbid you”—her temper mounting, the tears flowed again—“to see Trent. If you try to see him through the court, go ahead. But I’ll do everything in my power to keep him away from you.”
“Hart…” He wrapped his arms around her. “Trust me. Trust me, please…” he hissed in her ear. “I never touched another woman while we were together.”
She didn’t reply and stood woodenly, still in his crushing embrace. He reared back and she stared up at him, deadly. “I don’t believe a word you say.”
Chapter Eleven
The hospital was having a good day. One of those days when the most serious patient that walks in only has a bloody, fleshy gash on his forehead.
Hartford stood by the nurses’ station checking a patient’s file. Carmen and Nathan were on the rounds, and she scanned the file, biting her lip.
It had been two weeks since she’d been back in Maryland. Trent was back with his grandparents, making their life hell with questions about his father. Fortunately, Gerard’s parents were furious at their son, and they refused to coddle Trent’s requests to see his dad.
She, on the other hand, had had a hard time explaining to her superiors why she ended up coming back before her contract with Gerard Blackstone expired. Fortunately, Gerard had backed her story that he’d requested she leave early because he was fit as a fiddle.
She didn’t want to think of Gerard. Ever. But God had played a cruel joke in giving her, a black woman, a son who looked like his father, a white male.
Trent laughed like Gerard. He slept like him. He made the same stupid jokes as him.
It pissed her off to no end.
Meanwhile, the story about Gerard Blackstone having a son with a stunning redhead was big news in Maryland. And around the country. She saw his face splayed across magazine covers and newspapers, but she refused to pick any one of them up, cringing at the sight of them.
&nb
sp; A few days ago, Trent had seen Gerard’s face on TV and to her utter shock started wailing to see him. Hartford had been tempted to break down next to her son and wail louder, but she hadn’t. She’d hugged and kissed him and then distracted him. But she had no idea how long she could keep standing. She was crumbling from the inside out at Gerard’s betrayal.
“Hey.” Nathan came behind her and grinned. “What are you looking at that makes you so angry?”
Hartford shook her head. Nathan knew. He’d connected the dots when she came back looking like she’d been struck by a truck. He’d stared long and hard at Trent as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes had locked with Hartford’s, and he didn’t have to tell her that he’d just deduced that Gerard Blackstone was Trent’s father.
Most people close to her knew. They were pretending not to pity her with the news of his scandalous redheaded child. And she was not really helping anything by refusing to talk or eat.
“This guy in room twelve has a splinter in his heel the size a smartphone, and he didn’t even feel it until it got so infected it’s attracting maggots,” Hartford said with a forced smile.
“Athletes are so stupid.”
Hartford froze, wondering if that was directed at Gerard, or the athlete that had a splinter in his heel and kept playing tennis for a month without getting it checked. She decided she didn’t really want to know, so she smiled up at him.
“Are you joining us for dinner tonight? Carmen and I planned to go to Basket’s Grill.”
Hartford noticed for the first time that his eyes warmed peculiarly when he watched her. She drew back self-consciously from the heated gaze.
“Sure. Will you be sporting a smile?”
Hartford chuckled at the way he said it. “Sure. I’ll wear the best one I own.”
“Awesome. Can’t wait to see it again. It’s been so long.”
Hartford was tempted to stick her tongue out at him, but she was too old for that kind of stuff. She simply walked off to deal with her rounds. A group of scrub nurses and hospital administrative staff was huddled near a TV screen, their heads tilted up toward it, and as Hartford neared, she glanced toward the TV.
“…Mr. Blackstone had earlier filed charges for defamation against Miss Marianne Caster and obtained a court order for a paternity test. Several of our analysts had argued that Mr. Blackstone was simply trying to act like he was not the father by putting on a great show of confidence in the matter, but it seems like it wasn’t a show. Gerard Blackstone, according to DNA test results, is not the father of four-year-old Clayton Caster…”
Hartford didn’t hear anything else, because she stumbled backward, tripping over a vacant wheelchair and drawing attention to herself. All the nurses turned to look toward her. They all looked like they’d seen a ghost, and Hartford wondered if she looked as bad as she felt. Why would they be staring at her? They didn’t know her connection to Gerard Blackstone.
Hartford turned and abruptly slammed into a large, wide chest. She pulled back. “Sorry…” she mumbled, her heart hammering. She needed to hide her face. She needed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She recalled the look on Gerard’s face when he’d spotted her with the suitcase, holding Trent’s hand as she took him away. Her heart clenched agonizingly, and she gasped, clutching her chest as she turned to walk past the man blocking her path.
Belatedly, she noticed that the man she’d bumped into—the one whose face she couldn’t see past the tears in her eyes—was holding her forearms… too… damn… hard.
Only one man would hold her like that… too strong and incapable of reining in his strength.
She choked back a sob and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.
Gerard only gripped her tighter. She met his eyes and her face crumped instantly, her eyelids squeezing as tears streamed down the sides of her face. Half of her wanted to hide in his chest and beg and scream for his forgiveness. The other held back, unsure why he was there.
Did he want to see Trent? If he wanted nothing to do with her, she wouldn’t be surprised.
“You look nice in this.” He motioned toward her scrubs.
Hartford sobbed, her shoulders jerking as she followed his gaze. She looked back up at him, sniffling as he released her shoulders and pushed his hands into his pants’ pockets.
“Why are you here?” she asked in a whisper.
Gerard looked around. The entire hospital floor’s occupants were looking toward them, while the TV blasted more rants about how Gerard Blackstone wasn’t the father of a redhead’s child.
He cleared his throat. “I thought I’d drop by.”
Hartford’s heart twisted. It was over. “You can see Trent,” she blurted quickly. She couldn’t let her child suffer when she was the one who had broken down this relationship by not trusting Gerard.
“Can we go somewhere private and talk about this?”
About this. About Trent. Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of how happy Trent would be to see Gerard. She nodded and walked down the corridor, passing the nurses’ station where Carmen stood gaping at her. Nathan gave her a supportive, encouraging smile, but Hartford couldn’t even breathe with Gerard beside her. The hospital was at a standstill with Gerard Blackstone walking the halls.
His huge body and wide shoulders dominated the space. His deep blue shirt and black trousers were a stark contrast to the ordinary, bland colors of the staff’s scrubs and the white-and-gray sterilized interior of the hospital.
Hartford opened the door to a room she knew was vacant and closed it behind them.
“So…” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“Look at me, please.”
She did, forcing herself to smile. “I should say I’m sorry. For not believing you.”
He grinned. “Hartford said sorry to me. This is a day to be remembered.”
She drew back. “Well, in my defense, I didn’t ever do anything wrong up until this happened. I surely wish you hadn’t strived to have so many instances where you were wrong and had to apologize.”
His sharp bark of laughter echoed through the door, and all she could think of was that sound carried in this hospital. “Glad it’s amusing. But I really am sorry.” She sniffled. “And as for Trent, you can go meet him. He’s at your parents’ house. And… you can just call me when you’re leaving and I’ll pick him up.”
When Gerard didn’t answer, Hartford glanced up at him.
“Okay?”
“No.” His voice was cold, fury dripping off the simple monosyllabic reply.
“You don’t want to see him?”
“No, I don’t like the plan you’ve made for me, Hartford. I’m an adult. I can make my own plans.”
Hartford’s lips parted in surprise at the obvious fury in his voice. “Sure.” She could tell he hated her. And she didn’t blame him. She remembered how he’d pleaded for her to stay, pleaded that he hadn’t cheated on her back then, but she’d been so mistrustful, so scared, she’d abandoned ship long before it had begun to sink, at the first sign of storm, to protect herself.
“So here’s the plan I’m making,” he said slowly.
She looked up at him, resenting that he was so very tall and intimidating.
He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You and I are going to get a cab, and we’ll go to my parents’ house and surprise Trent. And then the three of us will sit down and make a plan together.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She blinked repeatedly and swallowed. “I don’t get it.”
Gerard exhaled sharply and lifted his arms wide. “I can’t do this anymore, Hart. Just stop. Tell me you love me too, and I swear I’ll slay anything that ever comes between us again.”
Hartford’s breath got stuck in her throat, and she inhaled sharply as tears blurred her sight and her face crumpled. She clenched her eyes shut as sobs broke free from her chest in relief, in happiness. He grabbed her, pulling her into his chest. The scent of him, the feeling of him, was precious, so ch
erished. She kissed his chest repeatedly over his shirt, her hands tight around his waist. He crushed her to him wordlessly, and she cried. And when he pulled away, shaking his head and kissing the tears off her face, she finally said the words that she’d fought for so long for fear of being hurt again.
“I love you, Gerard. So much…”
Epilogue
Hartford got out of the back of the SUV, not waiting for the driver to open the door. He was sprinting his way around the car to get the door and then slowed, giving her a sly smile. She knew he’d rather she waited in the car—and she did oblige most days—but today was different. It was her birthday, and she’d promised Trent she’d be home before his bedtime. She was already later than she had promised.
Pushing the front door open, she inhaled the aroma of roast chicken, a smile spread across her face. “I’m home!” she called, hanging her coat in the closet. Nostalgia engulfed her. She remembered the day she’d walked into this house six months ago unwelcome, greeted coldly by the man of the house. Today, this house felt like home. The décor was different, and so was her apparel. She considered quickly popping into the bathroom to change her Seahawks Physio jersey for the blouse and skirt stuffed inside her bag. She hadn’t had the time to change before she left the office.
She walked along the entry hallway, folding her sleeves higher, her brow furrowing. “Hello? Boys?” She chuckled to herself. “What’s up with you two?” She walked toward the back of the house, where the large doors looked out onto the pool that was securely fenced.
A giggle from the dining room made her spin toward it eagerly. She bit her lip, grinning ear to ear. “I wonder where everyone is!” she called jokingly as she made her way toward the dining room and then stopped short.
Both boys launched into it, singing “Happy Birthday” enthusiastically, Gerard blowing a small, yellow trumpet that looked hilariously miniscule in his hand. She laughed as Trent ran up to her and hugged her legs. She clutched him, while leaning up to receive Gerard’s slow kiss.
“Happy birthday,” he whispered in her ear. “I love you, and I’ll always love you.”
