Her mouth opened, then shut. She seemed to be gathering her strength to answer, but her voice was firm when she finally spoke. “Jason lives overseas now and remarried. We decided it would be best for him not to confuse Becca, so he stays out of both our lives.” A fierce light glimmered in her green eyes. “Becca belongs to me.”
“But he’s her father! Does he even call? Check on her? Ask for pictures?”
She yanked her hand back as if she’d been burned. “No. Please let it go for now. This is not the time to talk about it.”
A curse blistered from his lips. He stared at her, knowing there was more to the story. But this wasn’t the place—not with Becca here and no time to really delve into the past. He’d let her keep her secrets, but to move forward, they needed to trust each other again. Honesty was key.
“Fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”
She let out a breath. “Thank you.”
He nodded and deliberately took her hand back in his. Her gaze was pure stubbornness, as if she was deciding whether or not to allow him to keep touching her, but then her muscles relaxed and a hint of a smile curved her lips.
Good. It was time she learned he wasn’t going anywhere.
Becca ran back to the table, jumping up and down as the first stanza of Britney’s classic schoolgirl hit blasted from the speakers. He pretended to know the lyrics, singing off-key and butchering the song so badly she broke into hysterics.
Maybe it was better this way. They were forging a new future, and that would take trust. Her marriage was in the past, and dredging up old memories sometimes wasn’t the best way to create something brand-new.
He pushed aside the niggling worry in his gut and concentrated on enjoying his time with both of them.
“That was fun.”
Sydney turned to her daughter, who’d paused on her way to her room. She’d shrugged off her pink cardigan, kicked off her sneakers, and now regarded Sydney with a curiosity that had never been in evidence before.
Sydney tried to act casual. “You’ve always liked Tristan, right, honey?”
Her daughter nodded, her red curls flopping with the normal enthusiasm of youth. “Sure. He never talked to me as much as Uncle Cal and Uncle Dalton, though.”
Nerves ripped through her. Sydney leaned against the counter, wondering how deep this conversation would go. Wondering if this was the time to have a talk. “True. Did that bother you?”
Becca shrugged. “No, I just didn’t know he was so funny and nice.” She tilted her head, as if coming to a decision. “I think I’m going to call him Uncle Tristan now. He took me to the recital and gave me flowers.”
She chose her words carefully. “I think if you feel comfortable, that’s a good idea.”
“I saw you holding hands. Are you dating?”
Sydney’s legs crumpled under her. She had to fight her way back to a standing position, leaning more heavily against the counter. “What? Where did you hear that? How do you know about dating?”
Her daughter gave a long, exaggerated sigh. “Mama, I’m not a baby. My friend Tracey’s mom dates ’cause her dad left, just like mine. It’s not a big deal. I just want to know.”
The past surged up and threatened to drown her. She fought for a lungful of air. Cool. She needed to play this smart, yet cool. The ridiculous song from West Side Story rumbled through her thoughts, distracting her. Now was not the time to channel Broadway. She was definitely freaking.
But looking into her daughter’s clear green eyes, Sydney realized she deserved honesty. She’d hidden the past to protect her daughter from hurt, but now that Tristan was not only back in their lives but becoming a part of them, she couldn’t hide any longer. She simply didn’t have the right.
Eventually she’d need to tell Becca the truth. For now, telling her Tristan would be in their lives was important.
She ignored her heart slamming crazily within her chest and spoke.
“Dating is something a man and woman do to get to know each other. By spending time, they both get to see how they feel, and if they want to see more or less of the other person. So, yes, at this point, I’d say Tristan and I are starting to date. How do you feel about that?”
Becca scrunched up her nose in deep thought. Then shrugged. “It’s fine. Tracey says sometimes she doesn’t like her mom going out with so many different boys. Will you do that?”
The overwhelming, tangled mess of the past was tricky to sort out, especially to a seven-year-old. She knelt down so she could look straight into her daughter’s eyes.
“No. I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Tristan and I used to be good friends, so we’re taking it slow. But he’ll be around more. He’d like to take both of us out. Is that okay?”
Becca nodded. “Yes.”
Her throat tightened. She took her daughter in her embrace, surrounded in comfort and love. The scent of coconut drifted from her bright curly hair, and her slender shoulders pressed against Sydney. Her daughter hugged back tightly. “Can I go play my DS for a little bit before bed now?”
Sydney laughed, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Of course. Brush your teeth. I’ll be up in a bit.”
Her daughter ran up the stairs, conversation already forgotten.
But Sydney thought about it all night, tossing and turning, kept from sleep by the knowledge that all roads had led back to Tristan. Fate had stepped in and forced her hand. She’d made the only decision possible seven years ago, but would Tristan see it that way? Would his anger overshadow the fragile foundation they’d begun to build together?
Nausea turned in her belly. For two years, he’d ignored both of them. His innate coldness had confirmed over and over she’d made the right choice. But now he grew closer to them each day. How could she possibly have a second shot at happiness with him if she didn’t tell him Becca was his?
Dear God, it was time.
She had to tell him the truth.
Fear gripped her like a vise, strangling her breath. How would he react? Would he hate her? Blame her? If she realized her child had been kept from her, she’d lose her mind. She needed to be prepared for an emotional fallout but be able to keep her calm and stay centered. She had to convince him she’d done the best thing for both him and her daughter. Eventually he’d see her intentions had been true. She’d never wanted to hurt him. She only wanted to give Becca the home and stability she herself had never had, and a father who resented them both would’ve destroyed them. She’d always planned to tell him the truth one day. It was just coming earlier than she’d expected.
After the party.
She’d talk to Tristan after the party. She’d tell him everything, and they’d talk and come up with a game plan for the future. In time, he’d have to realize she had done the only thing possible. Becca had to come first. Always.
Sydney didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
chapter fourteen