I laughed softly, standing, accepting his invitation. He pulled me into his arms, the magnetism between us vibrating with urgency as I pressed my body to his, my cheeks growing warm. Something released within me, a kind of sweet relief that I had no better name for than that, despite that I used words for a living. I closed my eyes as I inhaled the scent of his skin, the one I’d recognize anywhere, even in the darkness of night when I had no sight to confirm it was him, and perhaps most especially then. I’d missed him. Oh God, how I’d missed him. For a moment we simply swayed, his head bent close to my ear. “You’re the other half of my star,” he murmured. “Still. Always.”
I breathed on a small laugh. “Don’t say that. That was just some pretty lie.”
He pulled back slightly, gazing at me. “No. I don’t think so, Karys. It’s the truth. Haziq just used it to manipulate us.”
My heart squeezed and my nerves increased. There had been so many lies and half-truths between us for such a long, long time. If there was any chance . . .
I broke away from him, turning.
“Karys?” he said, a confused lilt to his tone.
I turned toward him. “Is your business concluded?”
He paused, a small frown creasing his brow. “Yes. Why?”
“Because . . . I . . . I need you to take me home. I have to show you something.” Someone.
“Show me something? Okay, but—”
I put my hand on his arm. “Please, no questions. Not now. Not until you see.”
The crease in his brow grew but he nodded, taking my hand, and leading me from the garden.
**********
The house was mostly dark when we arrived. Carly greeted us at the door, giving Zakai a wide-eyed look before nodding to me. “Thank you,” I whispered. I’d texted her from the car and let her know what was happening. She did not linger.
I placed my evening bag on the counter in the kitchen, taking in a deep breath before turning to Zakai.
“Karys,” he said. “You’re making me nervous. What do you have to show me?”
I bit at my lip. “First, Zakai, I . . . I want you to know I tried to call you. Twice. She said she’d give you the messages.”
He tilted his head. “You called me? When?”
“Three years ago.”
“After we—”
“Yes. Well, several months later. And then one more time after that.”
“And Giselle told you she’d tell me?”
I nodded.
Zakai released a long, irritated breath. “She never said a word.”
“I had no way to know that. I . . . I thought you didn’t want to talk to me. I thought you’d written me off again.”
“It’s okay, Karys.”
“No. No, it’s not. I should have tried harder.” I should have called you after he was born.
“What’s this about?”
I took in a deep fortifying breath. “Come with me.” On legs that felt partially numb, I led him to the room at the back of the house, opening the door and stepping inside. Zakai followed, halting next to me, his eyes held to the small boy sleeping in the bed, the room illuminated by the soft glow of his nightlight.
I watched Zakai, waiting. After a moment he looked at me.
“You have a son?”
I nodded. “His name is Levy.”
He looked back to the bed, staring again. “How old is he?” he asked, something dull entering his voice.
“He turned three in March,” I whispered.
A strangled sound rose in his throat.
“He’s your son, Zakai.”
Another small sound emerged and he stumbled backward, out of the room, turning. I followed close on his heels. In the kitchen, he stopped, whirling back toward me, his expression tormented. “All this time . . . you never tried to contact me again? Three years, Karys?” His face contorted in pain.
“Why would I have? When I didn’t hear back from you twice, I didn’t believe you wanted—”
“But I didn’t know! She didn’t even tell me you’d called!” he yelled.
“How could I have known that? After everything that happened between us!”
“My God, Karys.” His chest rose and fell as though he’d just run a mile. “I have to go,” he said, grasping the door handle and pulling it open. I stood back, a sob rising in my chest as Zakai stumbled out into the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I smoothed Levy’s hair back, bending and inhaling his pure, angelic scent as he snuggled into me, laughing, and pointing at the cartoon on the TV. We hadn’t left the house for two days. I was shaky and raw and was more than content to stay in my PJs, my baby on my lap, as I waited to hear from Zakai—or not.
He might not want this. It might be too much for him.
He might not be able to forgive me. But I couldn’t carry that on my shoulders. What Evie had said was true. You couldn’t control whether someone chose to forgive. I’d done the best I could with the information I’d had. Zakai had given me no reason to believe that he’d want to know about a child between us. He’d told me he hated me. He hadn’t returned my calls. And though I had much more context now regarding both of those actions, I hadn’t then.