~Declan~
Dinner was finished, and I went wandering through the house in search of Connor. I hadn't seen him since we sat down to eat, and then he'd run off with Maddie to play again. I loved these visits I had with him —except for the end when I had to give him back. I hated that part. It reminded me of the f*cked-up situation I was in —the fact that I still couldn't tell him who I was, the fact that my son was being raised by someone else, and the fact that he still thought of me as nothing more than a close family friend. I was basically the family equivalent to an uncle.
I understood Sarah and Devin's reluctance. I did. I was just impatient. Connor had made such strides in the last few months. Every obstacle he'd faced, he had overcome. It hadn't been easy.
There had been days he'd spent with us where he would still cry and ask, "Why? Why her?"
I couldn't answer that for him. I didn't know why his mother had been taken so early in his life. Despite our falling-out, Heather had been a good person. I knew she'd made mistakes, and I hated that I couldn't get the first seven years of Connor's life back. Did I wish things were different though? Hell yes. If I could take his pain away, even at the cost of not knowing him, I would do it in an instant.
I found Maddie and Connor in the hallway downstairs, looking at old photos. There were photos of Clare and Logan, baby pictures of Maddie, and a few of Ethan, Clare's late husband. I thought it was cool of Logan to honor Ethan's memory. I wasn't so sure I'd be as accommodating as Logan was, but then again, I wasn't in his situation, so I guessed I'd never know. We all did what we had to do to love the person we were meant for, and Logan was doing just that. "That's my other Daddy. He's in heaven," I heard Maddie say to Connor.
I hung back, ducking into one of the spare bedrooms, curious to see their interaction.
"My mommy is in heaven, too," Connor said.
"Maybe they're friends!" Maddie suggested brightly, bringing a slight smile to Connor's face.
"Maybe. That would be cool. Was your Daddy nice?"
"He was really nice. He used to surf and take me to the beach when I was a baby."
"My mom liked the beach, too, so maybe they are surfing together in heaven."
"On pink waves!"
"Why would the waves be pink?" Connor asked.
"Because it's heaven. Duh," Maddie said.
I had to suppress a chuckle.
"Hey, look at this picture. That boy looks just like you!" Maddie said, pointing to a picture on the opposite wall.
I could just barely make it out. It was one I hadn't seen in a long time. It must have just been added to the wall. It was an old photograph of Logan and me from grade school. We had our arms around each other's shoulders in a boyish embrace, and we gave goofy smiles while looking at the camera.
"It does kinda. Who's the other boy?" Connor asked.
"I think that's my Daddy, Logan."
I heard Clare call for Maddie from the kitchen. Maddie had left a mess in the living room, and she was being told to clean it up. Maddie took off in a run, leaving Connor in the hallway. He stood frozen, staring at the photo of Logan and me.
"You know, we hated each other back then," I said, walking up next to him.
"That's you?"
"Yep. Logan and I go way back. We grew up together. Our fathers were close friends, and they figured their boys should be, too. Problem was, I hated Logan. He was annoying and pretentious."
"What does pretentious mean?"
"Stuck up."
"Oh, like Tyler at school. He says his dad is rich, and his room is filled with Iron Man toys."
"Yeah, exactly. Annoying, right?"
He nodded, slipping his hands into the pockets of his khakis shorts.
I continued, "So, we were forced to spend a lot of time together. We'd play nice whenever our fathers were around, which is how we ended up with pictures like this." I pointed to the frame on the wall, "But when their backs were turned, we'd be on each other in a second. Fists would fly, and we'd go home bruised and battered, both lying that we fell down or got a bit rough while wrestling."
Connor stared quietly at the picture a few moments longer, and then he looked back at me. I could see his wheels turning. Maddie was right. The Declan in that picture was a spitting image of the boy standing next to me. It would be hard to miss, and my son wasn't stupid. He'd already begun to ask questions here and there. He'd asked one day after a walk in the park if I knew who his Dad was. Another time while we were out for ice cream, he asked about his mom's friends, trying to find the missing link. I couldn't lie to him, so I'd always changed the subject. I would not tell him any more lies.
"You know last month, when it was my birthday and Sarah and Leah got me that cake that looked like a stack of pancakes?"
"Mmhmm, that was awesome."
Sarah and Leah had gone to a fancy bakery in Williamsburg and had it custom made. It was a new twist on an old tradition. Heather had made him pancakes on his birthday. We had made him a pancake birthday cake. It was a perfect melding of the old and new. It had been Leah's idea, and when she'd told me, I had fallen in love with her all over again. She never ceased to amaze me.
"And remember how I blew out the candle and made a wish?" he asked.
"Yeah?"
"Do you know what I wished for?"
"For your mom to come back?"
"No," he answered, "I know that's not going to happen."
I was a little sad, but I was also proud of him for saying this. I was sad because he had to realize this at a young age, but I was so proud that he was finally able to come to terms with his mom's death.
"Well then, what did you wish for, Little Man?" I asked, looking down at his eyes that perfectly matched mine.
"I wished for my dad."
Words failed me. I forgot how to breathe.
He looked at that photo on the wall and then back at me. His eyes were so full of hope. "Declan, are you my dad?"
I just nodded and knelt down to catch him as he jumped into my arms. I held him tight, and tears stung my eyes as I finally was able to hold him as his father.
"I knew it. I knew you were my dad," he just kept saying over and over.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know," I answered back.
We clung to each other in the empty hallway, crying until there were no tears left. We held each other for as long as we could as if making up for every hug we'd missed over the last eight years of his life —every milestone, birthday wish, and accomplishment I'd never get back because I hadn't been there.
But never again.
I never wanted him to wonder where his father was or ask why his dad didn't care enough to there for him. Saying good-bye to him after our visits was becoming more and more difficult, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand being a visitor in his life. Now that he knew who I was, I didn't want to say good-bye. I shouldn't have to. He was mine to protect, and it was time I started doing that full-time.
I looked up then to see Leah standing in the hall. Her stunned tear-stained eyes were watching over us as she witnessed our emotional introduction. She stayed back, allowing us a moment as father and son. She gave me a loving smile and mouthed the words, I love you.
While holding my son finally, I realized I needed to step up and become the father he needed of me. It made me feel driven, but it also scared the living shit out of me. Clutching him as I gazed into the eyes of the woman I loved, I wondered if my decision would be the one thing that could tear us apart.
~Leah~
"Now, tell me the reason we just watched that movie?" Declan asked as he rose from the couch to carry our empty mugs and soda cans into the kitchen.
He might have made fun of me for eating ice cream out of a coffee mug, but ever since he'd moved in, it was the only way he would eat it. I'd successfully converted him.
"Because it was an action movie. Guys like action movies, right?" I asked innocently.
"You know I like watching all sorts of movies, even romances. I'm not a typical guy when it comes to films. Everything else, yes," he said with a impish grin, "but films, no."
"I don't know. I just wanted something a bit different," I answered sweetly as I joined him in the kitchen, dumping the soda cans into the recycling bin.
"Wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that it starred Chris Hemsworth, would it?" he asked, leaning against the counter, which made his biceps flex against the fabric of his T-shirt.
"No. No, that had nothing to do with it," I answered, suddenly forgetting what we were talking about altogether as I stared at his rippling biceps.
He slowly made his way to me and captured me between his arms against the kitchen counter.
"Good, because if you ever, ever need a man to do something with a hammer, just let me know."
I couldn't help it. I snorted against his shoulder, laughter escaping me. "Oh God, that was awful. Worse than the last pet name you thought up."
"Precious?"
"Yes!"
"I liked that one. It was endearing. What's wrong with precious?" he asked.
"Nothing...if your name is Gollum!" I exclaimed.
Before I could let out another laugh, I was thrown over his shoulder, and we were in a dead run toward the bedroom.
"Declan, put me down!"
"Nope, you have officially hit your pain-in-the-ass quota for the day, and you must be punished!"
"I don't have a quota! And it was your cheeseball line, not mine!"
He threw me down onto the bed and pinned me beneath him, his chest heaving and his eyes bright with laughter and heat.
"You're crazy," I said.
"Maybe, but just about you."
He'd been like this all week —happy and full of boyish energy. He had his son finally, all of him, and I could see the weight being lifted off of Declan's shoulders minute by minute. But there were also times I'd seen him struggle, and I didn't know how to help. I'd see him staring at me from across the room with a pained look, but then he'd quickly look away and distract me with questions about work or the family before I could ask him what was wrong. Whatever he was trying to overcome, I only hoped he would share it soon because a female's mind was a powerful thing. Mine was already running wild with a million different reasons for his hot and cold mood swings and none of them were good. Life had just thrown us a new curve ball with Connor, and I could only hope we were strong enough to stabilize.
Our lovemaking started off playful and teasing. He nipped my shoulder, and I laughed. I pinned him beneath my thighs and gave him a show as I tore off my shirt and twirled it around in the air before letting it fly across the room. With Declan, there were a million different ways to make love, and I never seemed to get enough of any of it. He'd take me fast and hard, long and slow, or with a playful leisure that made me fall for him all over again.
When he entered me, hovering over me, with his fiery eyes locked on mine, I saw his playfulness melt away. He bent down and kissed my lips gently at first as if he were trying to savor the taste forever. Once locked into memory, he consumed me in a fevered kiss that hinged on the side of frantic.
Slipping one arm under me, he lifted me up against his hard chest, making the angle ever so deep, bringing our bodies even closer. I looked into his eyes and saw desperation, like at any moment he was afraid I would slip through his fingers like sand.
"Please," he begged, "don't ever leave me."
"I won't leave you, Declan."
"Promise it," he said roughly as his body continued to master mine.
I felt the familiar flutter deep in my belly, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.
"I promise," I cried out as my body shook, sending waves of pleasure ricocheting through me.
Declan followed, letting out his own release, as mine continued to spasm around his shaft. He looked into my eyes, his own so full of love and adoration. I felt unworthy of such deep emotions.
"You're mine, Leah. Forever."
"Yes, and you're mine. Forever."
I fell asleep in his arms as I had every night. I couldn't help but wonder what had brought on his desperation, his need for promises.
Where did he think I was going?