The Right Bride

Chapter Thirty-Four


MARTI THOUGHT ABOUT what to say, how she was going to say it, and what Cameron would do once he knew.

George asked her to tell him the truth. She thought fleetingly about telling him the whole truth, who she really is, that she was pregnant with his child, and that Knight was his father. Marti followed Cameron out of the room.

Cameron sat on the sofa while Marti paced back and forth in front of the white marble fireplace.

“Marti, just say it. What did George want you to tell me?”

In the end, she decided to tell him about George and see where things went from there. Maybe he would understand what George was trying to tell him, besides the obvious.

He’s a smart man. He’ll figure it out.

“George had one great love in his life, his wife. He loved her very much.”

“Yes, I know. They were married for forty years. She passed away a week after their fortieth anniversary.”

“Yes. They had Walter and Claire. They raised them with love and gave them everything in the world two children could ever want. They went to the best schools, they had every new toy, cars when they could drive, money to spend, and anything else their hearts desired. They were rich and gave them everything a mother and father ever dreamed for their children.”

“Yes. They had all the best things.”

“Yes, things. Things they grew up to expect and demand and feel entitled to.”

Cameron followed along. “George often said he didn’t know where he’d gone wrong with them. I think he spoiled them until they felt like they didn’t deserve anything less.”

“That’s exactly what George and I talked about. He and his wife loved them. They had a mother and a father and still George felt like he failed them in some way. In the end, having two parents who loved them didn’t make them into good people.”

He sat back and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to make this about you, me, and Shelly.”

“It’s interesting you say that. George told me the truth about you last night. It was one of the last things he was able to tell me.”

Cameron rubbed the back of his neck again. George had wanted to tell him something and he hadn’t been there to hear his final words. “What did he want to tell me?”

“He said I have a way of seeing things as they are, and not as I want to see them. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, you see the truth of things, even if it isn’t what you want to see.”

“I hope you will see the truth of what I’m going to tell you, and not what you want the truth to be.”

“What is it?”

“What do you remember about your father?”

“He was never there when I needed him,” Cameron replied without missing a beat.

“Not the way to start, then,” she said and drew her finger over her ear, tucking her hair behind it. She paced a few more steps, Cameron’s eyes following her every move.

“George loved his wife . . .”

“We’ve established this,” Cameron said impatiently.

“Shut up and listen. I’m telling the story, and you’ll just sit there and listen to it. I’m trying to fulfill a dying man’s last requests. I gave my word. Let me do it,” she said, a trace of desperation in her voice.

This was difficult for her. She knew something about him and found it difficult to explain and make him understand George’s position and actions.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. George indicated he’d asked a lot of you and you might be hurt by his requests. Tell me your way.”

She took a deep breath and sat on the coffee table between his knees in front of him. She met his gaze and pressed on.

“About thirty-four years ago George and his wife had some trouble in their marriage and they separated. During this time, George met a woman and had a brief affair with her. They liked each other’s company and had a few things in common, but they weren’t in love with each other. George and his wife reconciled and the other woman was happy to see George back with the woman he loved. She knew he belonged with his wife, and he knew the woman was better off without him. He learned a few weeks later the woman was pregnant.”

Cameron’s face went completely blank, his eyes bore into her, but she didn’t think he really saw her.

“She told him she was pregnant and wanted to have the baby. She didn’t want to tell the child who his father is. She wanted to raise the child on her own. She was adamant.

“He agreed, but insisted the child be a part of his life in another way. She agreed.” He didn’t respond. “George Knight is your father, Cameron. Your mother made him swear never to tell you.”

She paused and let him take in the news. “He kept his promise even after her death because it was her wish. He kept his promise until his death. Now that he’s gone, he wanted you to know.

“Although you never knew your father’s name, you had a father in every way that matters. He may not have been married to your mother, but he was there for you your whole life. Not every day, but when it mattered most. When you needed him, he was there.

“His wife knew, of course, and you were always welcome in their home. They treated you like a son because that’s who you were to them.

“You are the man you are today because you are very much your father’s son. He asked me to tell you, he may not have been there for you every day, but he thought he did a fine job raising you. He wanted you to know of all his children, he was the most proud of you.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t care, it was just Marti. With her, he could be himself. She’d grown up without her parents, knew how important this was to him. He considered George the father he always wanted. And now, come to find out, he was his father. Cameron was a Knight. It was unbelievable.

Marti took out the paper she had in her back pocket and held it out to Cameron.

“Your birth certificate doesn’t list Knight as your father. This is the only piece of paper Knight had where your mother acknowledges you as his son. She sent him the note the day you were born. He wanted you to have it.”

Cameron opened the paper. Yellowed and creased, well-worn, as if someone had opened and closed it over and over again through the years. Faint watermarks marred the paper as well. When he opened the paper, he dropped it to the floor and put his head in his hands and wept quietly.

The note read:

My dearest Knight,

Our son was born today. He is a fine Knight. I’ve named him Cameron Thomas Shaw. He is waiting to meet his father.

All my love, Amelia.



The watermarks were his father’s tears. He’d wept when he got the news.

“Your mother was very fond of Knight. They just weren’t meant to be together. You were named after your father and grandfather. George’s middle name is Thomas and his father’s first name was Thomas. You are a Knight and Emma was his princess. She’s the only grandchild he ever saw born.”

She put her hands on top of Cameron’s head and just sat there with him.

He looked up and her hands dropped away. “His wife was always nice to me. She treated me like one of her kids.”

“She was your stepmother. She understood your time with George was important. She didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t welcome. You always were. This was your home.”

“So this is why George said you might get hurt. He wanted me to understand I’ve put myself in the same position he faced with my mother. His situation was a little different because he was married when I was conceived, but basically similar.”

He shook his head. “I can marry you and still be a father to my child with Shelly, and you’ll be the perfect stepmother, like his wife was to me. Or I can marry Shelly and hurt you. It seems I’m always hurting you.”

“He just wanted you to know he was your father. He loved you and was extremely proud of you. He wanted to give you one final fatherly lesson.

“You can be a good father to a child even if you aren’t there every day. You just have to make sure you’re there for the important things, and they know you love them.

“He was a good father to you. It made all the difference in your life knowing Knight loved you. You know that.”

“I don’t need you telling me what I know about Knight and how I grew up and what I think about family and having a father who is there for you. I know,” he yelled. “Why can’t you just let it be? I’m not going to abandon my child. I’m going to be there every day. He’ll never wonder where I am because I’ll always be there. I’m not going to change my mind.”

She understood the anger, felt his pain. She knew what it was like to miss parents, wish they were there for you every minute of every day. She had her grandparents, but still, somehow, it wasn’t enough. Cameron had George, but it wasn’t enough. Not to a child.

Cameron made this decision from his child’s point of view.

Resigned to her heartbreak, she couldn’t keep asking—or what amounted to begging—at this point. She would if she thought it would make a difference. No matter what she said or did, he still chose a life with Shelly over one with her. She understood that now. It wasn’t Shelly he wanted, but the life he’d never had with his mother and father. Even George being his father didn’t change anything.

Telling him about their baby wouldn’t either.

“I have to go back in and tell your brother and sister who you are. Come back when you’re ready.”

“What was he doing at the docks? He mentioned you saved his life once.”

She sighed. She didn’t want to tell him about the day at the docks. His expression, the way he waited, told her he wouldn’t let her get away without telling the story.

“The day I returned from my yearlong trip, I saw a man at the end of the dock standing on the railing in the pouring rain. I went over to him and said, ‘Nice day, don’t you think? Personally, I love a good storm.’”

“He was going to throw himself into the sea?”

“No. He was just having a bad day. He told his children he was dying and instead of being compassionate, they wanted to know when and how much they were getting. I told him about my uncle and my relationship with him. We bonded. I realized who he is, and he and my grandfather were old friends. He remembered me as a child. Instead of doing something foolish, he asked me to dinner, where I met you and Emma for the first time.”

“So you’re telling me if you hadn’t been on that dock, I wouldn’t have met you, and I might never have known Knight is my father?”

“Things happen for a reason. My life wouldn’t be what it is now either. I wouldn’t have met you and Emma, maybe Shelly wouldn’t have lied and told you she’s pregnant, and Knight might have been foolish enough to jump,” she said and shrugged.

If she hadn’t met George, she wouldn’t be pregnant with Cameron’s baby now.

He didn’t say anything about her calling Shelly a liar again. She let it go. Why keep fighting it. All it did was make her sad.

He studied Marti’s face, saw the toll this was taking on her in her pale skin and tired eyes. Overwhelmed by the urge to take her to bed, wrap her in his arms, and let her sleep. Instead, he reined in the impulse, curled his hands into fists on his thighs, and reminded himself she wasn’t his to touch. Not anymore. He had Shelly. His daughter and baby would have a full-time mother and father.