PROLOGUE
REMY
“What do you mean I have a son?”
Mine and Carrie’s parents smiled sadly at me as the lawyer placed all the paperwork down on the table.
“Carrie left you a letter to read when you feel up to it. We can take DNA samples and submit them for testing if you’d like?”
Looking from the papers down at the tiny baby curled up in a car seat, I felt the sweat building on the palms of my hands.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Carrie would have told me if she was pregnant. She would have said.”
Mom reached into her purse, pulled out some photos, and then laid them on the table. “He looks just like you did when you were little, Remy.”
Before I could point out that most babies looked like that, Carrie’s dad, Newton, aka Newt, said, “Carrie explained why she didn’t say anything in her letter, but I think she was afraid you’d think she was lying. I don’t keep up to date with things going on, but fake pregnancies as a form of revenge have been around forever.” Looking sadly at the baby, he whispered, “Babies are a piece of us that live on after we’re gone, and that’s what that amazing little boy is.”
Blinking against the tears, I glanced at my dad to see him looking at me with pity—the same expression I’d seen on all of their faces since I’d walked into this room.
They’d broken the news to me just yesterday, and now, twenty-four hours later, I was being passed my three-week-old son. He’d been in the hospital until yesterday because of some complications and him being jaundiced, but after three days with no hiccups, he’d been released.
Jesus Christ.
It was the pity that snapped me out of my stupor, and suddenly I felt angry. I knew Carrie wouldn’t lie about who Tobias’s father was, it just wasn’t how she was wired, but to not tell me she was pregnant? For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t a monster. Had she thought I wasn’t capable of being a parent?
Getting up stiffly, I reached down for the car seat.
“Newt, Clarice, I want you to be a big part of his life. Whenever I come to Kissimmee or if you’re near Branford, you can always spend time with him. I’ll never stop you from seeing him.”
Looking at my parents, I gave them a chin lift, unable to smile but not wanting them to see me sinking.
Finally, I turned to the lawyer. “What else do I have to do?”
“It’s all been handled. You’re on Tobias’s birth certificate, so legally, you’re his father. If you’d like the DNA tests done, I can arrange those.”
I wasn’t going to insult Carrie by saying yes, and I wouldn’t upset her parents by doing that, either. I knew my parents would have already organized the test, and judging by the discreet headshake Dad gave me that I caught out of the corner of my eye, I was best just to deny the lawyer’s offer.
“There’s really no need. If anything else comes up, just let me know.”
“Do you want to lodge a complaint against the hospital for not notifying you, Mr. King?” the lawyer asked.
I had so much going on inside my head, I didn’t know how to answer the question. In the end, I went with, “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
And with that, I left the office with my son, each step feeling like I was suffocating. It wasn’t until I got to the store to pick up some stuff for him, knowing he’d need diapers and some more formula, that it clicked.
“What a gorgeous little boy!” one of the women stacking the shelves cooed as she looked at Tobias. “Oh, he looks just like you.”
The suffocation turned to anxiety and absolute determination. The DNA would be tested, but it was just a formality at this point. I was a father, and this tiny little human was relying on me to look after him and not fuck him up.
Shooting the woman a smile, I began picking up one of everything I could find in the shelves of the baby toiletry section. After that, I went to where the lady had said the bottles and formula were, then onto the diapers, the pharmacy, and then to where another salesperson told me the sterilizers and baby swings were.
I had no idea what I was doing, but as I took it all out of the cart and put it in the back of my vehicle, I was determined to figure it out. They wouldn’t sell all of this shit if people didn’t need it, so hopefully I had what he needed for now.
Walking around the living room, I tried to console the little guy as he screamed his lungs out.
“I don’t know what to do, Tobias. What do you need?
Of course he didn’t answer me. I’d watched fifteen videos on YouTube about crying babies, but nothing they’d recommended had worked.