“What?” he asked, the world ceasing to exist around him. She’d just said— “Are you saying I’m not your son?”
“Of course you’re not. Your father slept with his secretary a year after we got married, and got her pregnant.” His mother spat it out, anger radiating off her in waves. “Not wanting to face the shame, I helped him cover it up—and buy her off. I went on a European tour, and came back with a baby. With you. And I’ve hated you ever since.”
His heart pounded loudly, echoing in his head. “I’m not your son?”
“You’re not.”
Suddenly, it all made sense.
Her hatred. Her preference for Andrew. The way she treated him. It all fell into place, and instead of being upset she wasn’t his real mother, he felt…
Free. Absolutely, one hundred percent, free.
“Where’s my real mother?”
“Dead.” She hugged herself. “Has been since you were five.”
He rubbed his jaw and nodded. “Thank you.”
“Wh—?” She blinked at him, clearly taken aback. “For what?”
“The truth. I feel a lot better about you hating me now, and even understand why.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
She started for the exit. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel better,” she snapped.
Refusing to give her the satisfaction of an answer, he gritted his teeth until she left. Once she did, he picked up the phone, and dialed Maggie’s number again. She still didn’t answer. He hung up and kicked his desk. “Son of a bitch.”
He scowled out into the empty office, toward her desk—until he saw the glinting item on top of it. Storming out of his office, he headed straight for the gleaming object.
The ring. She’d left him the ring.
A gold digger wouldn’t do that.
As he knew all along, his mother’s story was just that. An elaborate story meant to make him despise Maggie. She wasn’t who his mother said she was. She hadn’t betrayed him. She might have been trying to save her parents’ farm, but she hadn’t pretended she cared about him just to get her hands on his money.
He couldn’t believe that. Wouldn’t.
And he never should have let her go.
Dialing again, he waited for voicemail to pick up. It did. Once her message ended, the phone beeped, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t believe you took the money as a bribe, so you have to tell me I’m right. Call me back and tell me you didn’t use me to save your farm. Tell me.”
Met with silence—obviously—he hung up and left the office.
One way or another, he’d find a way to fix this. To make it up to her that he’d believed the worst of her, when she’d done nothing but show him the best.
She deserved better, and he’d be the one to give it to her.
Chapter Seventeen
A week and a half later, on December Twenty-third, Maggie stood outside in the cool sunlight, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt and feeling anything but merry. They’d been busily cleaning out the house ever since she’d arrived, brokenhearted after realizing that Benjamin hadn’t cared about her, and never would. He’d used her to get his fiancée back, and she’d fallen for every single word he’d said.
Like the stupid, naive idiot she was. Well, not anymore. She was done. With New York City. And him. Just…done. She didn’t belong in that city, or his world.
Since she wasn’t going back to New York, she would never have to see him or his deep blue eyes ever again. And she couldn’t be happier about that. Ecstatic. Thrilled. Happy as a pig in mud, or a horse with a fresh pile of straw.
Rolling her eyes, she tossed the garbage in the can.
Even she didn’t believe herself.
She was miserable, flat out miserable, and she missed him more than she’d have ever thought possible. He’d left a hole in her soul that she was beginning to suspect would never be filled, and he didn’t even know how much he broke her heart.
And that hurt, too.
But for the sake of her parents, she’d been doing her best to act as if there was nowhere she’d rather be than back home, because if she didn’t, they would feel bad. They’d been through enough already.
Mrs. Gale, for her part, had held to the bargain…so far.
She’d offered an extremely generous buying price, and her parents had accepted. They were now looking for a new home to buy with the profits, and had also started a job search. Everything was working out the best that it possibly could, and everyone was happy, all things considered.
Everyone except Maggie.
Benjamin kept calling and leaving voicemails on her cell, but she hadn’t listened to any of them. If he left long messages thanking her for giving him what he’d always wanted…she’d throw up all over herself. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for him. She was. But she would rather die than listen to him tell her how happy he was.
Especially when she so wasn’t.