“No, you didn’t. Not really. You could have gotten to me if you’d really wanted to.”
Setting my cup down on the table, I lean forward, working hard to keep my voice down. “You told me you didn’t do babies and white picket fences. You also told me you didn’t do happily ever after. You left, Paul. You left without a word to anyone and you think I should have embarked on some worldwide manhunt to tell you that, I, a woman you didn’t want or love, was pregnant with your child? Why would I do that, Paul? So you could come home just to abandon her, too?”
“I wouldn’t have abandoned her,” he clarifies. “I would have come home.”
“For how long?” I snap.
“You had no right to keep that from me,” he snaps back, pointing a finger at me. “She’s my kid, too, Clara. I had a right to know!”
“Well you know now, Paul.”
He watches me for a moment before leaning back in his seat. “Listen. I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I am.”
I choke back fresh tears—angry tears. I won’t cry in front of him . . . not over this. I want to tell him how crushed I was. How when I woke up and naively thought he had just gone in early, how devastated I was when I realized he had simply left as if the time we’d spent together hadn’t meant anything. Not one damned thing. But I won’t tell him any of that. “What’s done is done,” I say, instead.
“She looks like you, ya know?”
“No, she doesn’t,” I disagree. “She looks exactly like you.” The last part comes out as a whisper.
He smiles softly. “The eyes for sure, but the nose and mouth are you.”
“She has your wildness in her.”
He grins. “And your sassiness. She’s quite feisty.”
I snicker as my gaze falls back down to my coffee cup. “She is amazing. I know I’m partial, but she really is, Paul.”
“I want to know her. I’m not going to run off. I promise.”
I lick my suddenly dry lips and nod once. I’m not sure if I believe him, but what can I do at this point? Neena wants to know her father. So I give the only reply I can, praying it’s not a mistake. “Okay.”
I follow Clara back to Sky High, and when we walk in, Marcus is sitting at the table in the front area, tiny glasses on the bridge of his nose, looking at paperwork. He leans back in his chair as we enter.
“How’d it go?”
“Good,” Clara answers as she slips her cardigan off. She’s wearing this blue, sleeveless top underneath that’s fitted to her body. Her jeans are tight, showcasing her ass, which I have to admit looks pretty fucking awesome for any woman, more so since she’s almost forty. Her hair is tied up in a loose bun, little pieces falling around her face. She’s beautiful. No doubt about it.
“Should find out something in the next week or two,” she adds. Marcus nods, his mouth in a tight, flat line. He’s worried, too. What if I’m not a match? “Is Neena in my office?”
“Yeah. I logged her on to PornHub. That should keep her busy for a few hours,” Marcus says, earning a scowl from Clara. “What?” he questions. “It’s all-you-can-watch anal.”
Clara arches an unamused brow.
“She’s watching The Goonies,” he finally admits.
“I’ll go check on her and let her know you’re here,” she tells me.
“Thanks for the time today, Clara,” I call out after her. She turns, her gaze meeting mine, and gives me a half smile.
“You’re welcome.”
When she’s out of sight, I look down at Marcus, who is still leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, watching me. “You know she’s the only woman I ever saw you with that I thought might actually have a chance at keeping you.”
“She was the only one,” I correct.
“Yet, you left anyway.”
I rub my hands down my face. “I had my reasons.”
“Which were?”
“Unimportant now,” I snap. “Has she . . .” Shit. How do I ask this?
“Seen anybody?” Marcus supplies.
“Yeah,” I grumble, hating the smirk on his face.
“No. Not one guy.”
My brows rise in utter shock, and relief runs through me. I know I’m a dick for finding relief in the fact she hasn’t been with anyone since I left, but I do. “Really?”
Marcus purses his lips and shakes his head. “No, Paul. Not really,” he snorts before he begins to chuckle. “Did you really think she was celibate for thirteen years?” And the bastard laughs harder.
I glare at him. “You’re a fucking dick.”
“Dude. She’s a beautiful, successful woman. Of course there have been other men,” he continues.
“A lot of other men?”
He grins widely and chuckles some more. “Wow. Back one day and you’re already jonesing for her.”
“Fuck off. Just answer the question, Marcus.”
He slides out of his chair and starts collecting his papers. “Only a few over the years. None since Neena was diagnosed.”
I feel guilty for even asking. “How long ago was that?”
“Four years.”