A Home for my Heart (Matters of the Heart #3)

by Velvet Reed

Realizing that I may be hurting her I let go of her arms and take a few steps back. “Surely you understand how confused I am right now, Ms. Nichols. You’ve made an appointment to see me today, though it’s obviously not for anything medical. You’ve said several times that you wanted to know I’m okay, and I can assure you that I am, but please explain to me how you know me and my parents.”

  She looks at me for a moment, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry I made the appointment and I’m sorry I took up your time. It was wrong of me to do that.” She looks down at her feet for a second before meeting my gaze again. “I’ll go now and I promise I won’t bother you again. I can see how busy you are, how successful you are as a doctor and from your photos you seem to have a family that loves you. I’m so happy you have a good life, Sam. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  Overcome with immense anxiety from her words and quite honestly a deep seeded feeling of dread, I ask again as she opens the door and takes a step out. “For God’s sake! Who are you?”

  She turns back, her eyes full of sorrow and regret. “I’m the one who gave birth to you, Sam.”

  World. Completely. Shattered.

  I don’t know how long I stand there. I don’t know how many times those words tumble and crash through my mind. All I do know is when I’m forced to come back to reality by Nora wanting to leave for the day, the woman who declared she was my birth mother has gone. She’s completely disappeared as if a very bad figment of my imagination and all I’m left with is an empty, hollow feeling through every inch of my being. I’m numb.

  After telling Nora she could go home, I return to my desk and sit heavily in my chair. My birth mother?! How is that possible? Rochelle Evans was my mother. Wasn’t she?

  Surely, if what this woman said was true, there would be a record of it. People would know, wouldn’t they? It would mean that Rochelle and Mark Evans adopted me. So, if they adopted me and then John and Olivia adopted me when they died, wouldn’t John and Olivia know? And if they know, why the hell didn’t they tell me?

  The longer I sit here thinking about Donna Nichols’ statement, the more the numbness begins to transform. Getting to my feet I head out of my office, locking the door behind me and striding with determination to the doctors’ lounge where I can grab my keys. I have so many emotions colliding within me right now, but the one that’s overwhelming and consuming me is anger. I want answers and I want them now.

  I bring the car to a screeching halt in the driveway and fling the door open. Slamming it shut, I bound around the hood and dash up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I’ve got my key out and I’m through the front door striding through the house looking around wildly, anxious for the truth and petrified of it at the same time.

  “Olivia!” I call out repeatedly because I’m so goddamn confused right now, I can’t even bring myself to call her anything else. My heart’s hammering in my chest, trying to break free and escape the pain that’s squeezing it like a vice.

  “Sam, Honey?” I hear her startled voice as she rushes down the hall from her study. “What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

  I look at her. I take a really good look at the face of the woman who has cared for me for so long and all manner of questions run through my mind. Has she been lying to me for the last seventeen years? Does she even know the Evans’ weren’t my real parents? Why couldn’t she be my biological mother?

  She stops directly in front of me and I can see the wariness in her eyes.

  “What is it?” she asks again and then as if she’s just processed what I called her she continues. “Why did you just call me Olivia?”

  The anger rolling through me rears its ugly head and I snap, “Do you know who Donna Nichols is?”

  Her eyes instantly widen with alarm and she moves her hand shakily to her mouth. That reaction gives me all the answers I need. She knew. She knew, and she never fucking told me!

  “Sam,” her voice trembles, and she reaches out her other hand for me to take but I turn my back and walk into the living room, leaving her standing in the hall.

  I glance around the room. A place I’ve spent so many hours with my family. My family… What a joke. The Tierney s aren’t my family, just like the Evans’ weren’t my family. My name should be Sam Nichols, but then again, probably not, because who the fuck knows what my biological father's name is?

  “Sam… How did you find out?” Olivia stammers as she joins me in the living room.

  I turn swiftly and glare at her in disgust. “She turned up at the hospital.” The images of the sandy-haired woman, her face lined with wrinkles making her look much older than her age slams unwelcome into my mind, and I shake my head to clear them. “She actually booked a fucking appointment so she could spring this news on me.”

  “Watch your mouth!” Olivia threatens and I do absolutely nothing to contain the cackling, disbelieving laughter that bursts out.

  “Watch my mouth?” I repeat. “I just found out my whole life is a fucking lie and you’re telling me to watch my motherfucking mouth? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “I’m still your mother, and you will not speak to me that way!”

  I take a few menacing steps towards her. “You are not my mother,” I shout and deep down I know that’s the biggest lie and worst possible thing I could ever say to Olivia. Her eyes shimmer with tears and she’s physically shaken by my verbal assault, but stupidly I continue, “Rochelle Evans was not my mother. The woman who gave birth to me magically appeared today after twenty-nine fucking years, but it just goes to show that none of you have ever really given a shit about me, because none of you had the decency to tell me the fucking truth!”

  I turn my back to her again and move to the window so I don’t have to look at her. “I was passed around like a fucking rag doll. First a mother who didn’t want me palmed me off to someone else, and then they up and die, and, of course, there’s no one else in the world for me to get dumped on, so I’m sure you took pity on the little kid next door who was your son’s friend. You and John really drew the short straw then, didn’t you?”

  When I finish my tirade and it’s met with silence, my heart clenches in pain. She obviously doesn’t care that my life and everything I believed in has just been shattered. A soft gasping sound pierces the quiet so I glance over my shoulder to find the source, knowing full well it’s Olivia. What I don’t expect to find is her slumped on the floor, tears streaming down her anguished face and her hands clutching her chest. She’s looking up at me, her face the picture of heartbreak and desolation. What have I done?

  “How can you say those things?” she wails. “How can you stand there and tell me that I’m not your mother?” Her sobs rack her entire body and she’s dragging in shallow breaths. “I’ve loved and cared for you longer than either of those women! I’ve loved you like my own son for seventeen years.” I notice her frame rocking ever so slowly back and forth. “We didn’t know that Rochelle and Mark had adopted you until after they died when you were legally made ours.”

  I move from the window now and sit on the couch. I want to go to her and comfort her but I also want more answers and I’m still so fucking furious that I can’t. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I snarl.

  “You were so young, Sam, and you were still grieving when we found out. Telling you then would have broken your heart even more than it already was. Then later when we asked you if you wanted to change your name to Tierney, you said no because you felt like you’d be letting your mom and dad down.” More tears flow freely down her pale cheeks and she moves to kneel in front of me. “We never found out the exact details of your biological mother, Sam, only her name. As time went on and you settled in as part of our family, John and I didn’t know how to broach the subject, and then we wondered if telling you would make any difference. We didn’t want to tarnish the love and memories you had for Rochelle and Mark.”

  I can’t believe I’m hearing this!

  “I had a rig
ht to know!” I bellow, causing Olivia to flinch and shrink back away from me.

  Gathering herself she leans in again. “Yes, you did have a right to know, and I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, I truly am. But this is exactly why we didn’t, Sam. We didn’t want to see you get hurt. We didn’t want to see you in pain. This doesn’t change the fact that you are my son. You are part of this family and we love you.” Her voice is pleading; she doesn’t want this to change anything, but it does. It has. This information has changed who I am in the space of an hour and now I don’t know what to think or what to feel.

  “You don’t get it,” I mutter.

  “What don’t I get?” she stammers, placing her hands on my knees. I don’t know if she’s trying to comfort me with the gesture but it does nothing to help. I remember how I felt when Rochelle and Mark Evans died so unexpectedly, how devastating it was. But this… This pain I’m feeling right now, knowing that everything is a lie…that John and Olivia, the people I have considered my parents since I was twelve years old have lied and kept things from me. This feels like I’ve just lost everything that’s real and good and true in my life. Like I’ve just lost my entire family. This feels like I’ve lost who I am.

  “I don’t belong anywhere. I’m not a Tierney. I’m not an Evans, and I sure as hell am not a Nichols. I’m no one. I have no place to call home,” I declare solemnly.

  Olivia breaks into a fresh round of sobs. “No, Sam. No!” she cries. “You belong here. You belong to me. To this family.”

  I shake my head in denial because I don’t. I’m Sam. Just Sam. And this is something that I’m going to have to work through on my own. I can’t trust what Olivia and John tell me, they’ve kept this secret for too long. Getting to my feet, I walk past Olivia who’s still kneeling on the floor and head for the door.

  “Sam, please stay and talk about this,” she begs and stumbles to her feet.

  “You said you wondered if it would make a difference if you told me.” I pause because this thought hurts and I know it will almost definitely hurt Olivia too, but I need to say it so that she’ll understand.

  “Yes?” she coaxes.

  “It would have made a difference.” She frowns, her brows drawing tight together. “They were always leaving me with nannies to go on trips. You know they never treated me the way that you and John treated Cole and April. I loved them because they were my parents, but I never felt like I was important to them, and now it makes sense why.” I step to her and kiss her on the cheek. “You showed me what a family was meant to be like, Olivia. I’ll always cherish that, but it would have made a difference because if I’d known they weren’t my real parents I would have jumped at the chance to become Sam Tierney. At least then I would have truly been part of this family and not just some add-on that everyone knew had nowhere else to go.”

  Turning I walk out the door leaving Olivia in my wake and make my way to the car. I settle inside and it’s then that I notice part of the house next door. I stare at it feeling intense anger and grief. That’s the house I spent the first twelve years of my life in but it was never my home. I’ve always wanted to believe that the one I just walked out of was where my heart belonged, but now that foolish heart is shattered all over the ground in a million tiny pieces.

  I put the car in gear and head down the driveway without looking back. Maybe this isn’t the best time to be driving, but I can’t stay here. I can’t be anywhere near here and all the fucked up lies and mess my reality has become. I need to get away.

  Day from hell. Absolute freaking hell!

  Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Even though I was dealing with shattered glass after I spoke to Sam, my heart was fluttering with exhilaration. He asked me to move in with him. Oh. My. God. Sam Evans, my gorgeous green-eyed man actually asked me to move in with him. If that doesn’t scream commitment, I don’t know what does. It was the highlight of my shitty day but any hope I had of it picking up from there flew out the window about an hour later when I slipped on some water in the backroom and not only fell on my butt, which is incredibly sore, but I also dropped my phone, which of course shattered the screen on impact. So yeah…. Day from freaking hell!

  “I’m going to come in early in the morning, so you can go and get a new phone,” Mary tells me as I’m locking the front door of the shop.

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just wait until lunch and pop out to get one then,” I reply.

  Giving me her classic ‘don’t argue with me’ look, she props a hand on her hip. “I’ll be here,” she reiterates, and then she really looks at me. Her gaze softens. “Come here,” she instructs, holding her arms open for me and I willingly walk into them, getting wrapped in a comforting hug. “Tomorrow’s a new day, Sweetie. I know today’s been a complete mess, but now you can shake it off and go see that handsome man of yours.”

  I cling to her, needing the comfort she’s providing. Not only is Mary a fantastic employee, she’s been my mother figure since the day I hired her. “He asked me to move in with him today,” I mumble whilst still in her embrace, but my announcement has her pulling away and smiling down at me.

  “Did you agree?” she asks, but I can tell she already knows the answer to that question.

  “I did. This is a huge step for Sam. It’s a huge step for both of us. We’re going to talk about it tonight and work everything out.” I’m smiling now, smiling for what seems only the second time today, the first being when Sam answered the phone and I heard his voice.

  “Of course it’s a huge step,” Mary acknowledges. “But I think you two are ready to take it. You’re great together and it’s obvious to everyone how much you care about each other. I’m so happy for you, sweetie.” She pulls me in for another quick hug and lets me go, though I feel a small pang in my chest when she says it’s obvious how much we care about each other. No one knows, not even Gracie that I told Sam that I love him, and since he still hasn’t said it back to me, I’m going to keep it that way.

  “Thank you,” I simply reply and then we say our goodbyes and make our way to our cars.

  When I get back to my house I comb through my mail, checking for anything of importance, then go about packing a bag to take to Sam’s. I already have some things there, but knowing I’m going to be staying for more than one night I pack more than I probably need. It’s as I’m going through my underwear drawer that I think about the logistics of us moving in together. Will I be moving to his apartment or will he be moving in here? I mean, I love this house. It was my Grammy’s house. The house I grew up in. There’s no mortgage on it and it seems silly to move somewhere I’d have to pay rent. But would Sam be comfortable here? Our places are so different. So many thoughts run through my mind and when I can’t come to any conclusion, I decide to just let it be until we discuss it.

  Half an hour later I’m back in the car and making my way to Sam’s, realizing I probably should have called him from the house considering I don’t have my phone. I arrive twenty minutes earlier than I told him I would and I’m surprised to see that his car isn’t parked in its normal spot. A little disappointed and assuming that he’s been caught up at the hospital I grab my bag and make my way to his apartment, letting myself in with my key.

  After taking my things to the bedroom, I grab the phone and call his cell to see how long he’ll be. It goes straight to voicemail so I leave a quick message. “Hey, it’s me. I just got to your place and obviously you’re not here. My cell broke this afternoon so if you call back, do it on your landline, but I’m going to go ahead and run that bath we spoke about earlier, so feel free to join me when you get in. Hurry home.”

  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I go to the bathroom and start filling Sam’s huge tub. I know he isn’t a big fan of the lavender bath oil I left here, but it really relaxes me so I pour some in. He’s just going to have to suck it up and deal with it tonight.

  As the sweet perfume swirls through the air mingling with the warm steam that rises ha
untingly from the beckoning watery oasis, I breathe it in and start to remove my clothes, letting them fall to the floor unceremoniously. Stepping in carefully, I’m just about to submerge my stressed body when the doorbell rudely interrupts me. Who on earth could that be?

  Hoping to ignore them I move to lower myself again, but the continuous buzzing has me groaning in annoyance, turning off the faucets and begrudgingly climbing back out and I hurry to the bedroom for Sam’s robe. “Alright. Alright. I’m coming!” I shout at whoever is on the other side of the door making a nuisance of themselves. If they don’t get their finger off that damn button by the time I get there, I’m going to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

  Turning the lock and whipping the door open I’m confronted with a harried-looking Cole. “Did your finger get stuck on the button?” I snidely greet him, but he doesn’t respond, only pushes past me, his head turning this way and that as if searching for something. “Yeah hi to you too!” I bitchily snipe. Normally I love Cole, but after the day I’ve had, his actions have me wanting to punch him.

  “Where the fuck is Sam?” he shouts, still looking around as if Sam is hiding somewhere in the room.

  “He’s not home from work yet,” I tell him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Spinning around, he pins me with sharp assessing eyes, looking at me as if trying to decipher if I’m telling the truth or not. “What?” I demand again.

  “I just came from the hospital and he sure as hell isn’t there. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

  He’s not at the hospital? “I don’t know, I guess around one o’clock. I told him I’d be here at seven.”

  Cole lets out a string of curses and begins pacing around the room. “Has he tried calling you?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I say again. “I broke my phone not long after I spoke to him.”

  “Damn it,” he mutters, and taking in his whole demeanor, my stomach starts to churn restlessly.