“It’s not good to give the horse too much sugar,” I say, startling her. She turns to me, and the only true smile she had all day is gone when she sees me. “I didn’t know you would be in here.”
“I was just leaving.” She turns and walks past me.
“Emily.” I call her name, and she stops walking, but she doesn’t turn around. “We need to talk.”
She turns now and looks me straight in the eyes. “Anything you had to say to me ended up on the side of the road when you opened the window and threw me away.”
“I didn’t throw you away.” I advance on her. “I would never.”
“Oh, but you did,” she says. “Besides, I don’t think there is anything you have to say that I want to hear.” She wipes away a tear. “Nothing.” I let her walk away from me, knowing that here’s not the time or the place for this. I let her walk away, knowing that the next time I won’t let her walk away from me.
“It took her a long time,” my mother says behind me, “to get over you.” She walks in now. “It took us a long time.”
I look down now, not sure what to say. “Yeah.”
“I’ve been on pins and needles since you got here,” she starts, and I see her wringing her hands. “And I know that Beau said to give you some space”—her head shakes as she wipes away tears—“but I just can’t.”
“We don’t have to do this today.”
“No, we do,” she says. “For my sanity, for the kids, I need to say something.” She closes her eyes. “I thought telling Beau would have been hard, but telling you …” She lets out a huge breath. “I didn’t have the best upbringing.” She starts her story. “I was pregnant and alone. He told me he loved me, and I was stupid enough to believe it. Then he hid behind his father and made him deal with me.”
I step forward to her. “Please don’t. I need to get this all out. I had no one to turn to, and I couldn’t tell the one person I wanted to tell. I caught Jacob while he was walking into prom, and I didn’t give him a choice. I was the one who didn’t want anyone to find out,” she tells me. “I was the one who kept it a secret and begged him not to say anything. It was me.” She finally sobs out. “You can’t hate him for what I did. You were raised surrounded by the best male influences you could ever want. You were raised to be polite and kind. You were raised with morals and compassion, something that Liam didn’t have in him. We loved you with everything that we had. We love you with everything that we are,” she says. Beau comes running in and takes her in his arms.
“It’s okay.” He rubs her back. “It’s all okay.”
“I have to tell him,” she says, pushing through.
“To question who your father is after everything he gave up for you.” She shakes her head. “You have to know in your heart that he is your father regardless of whose blood runs through you. At the end of the day, you’re mine, and you’re Jacob’s, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise, including you.”
She sounds angry now. “I know we lied to you, and I would do it again. But your life wasn’t a lie; your life was filled with so much love you wouldn’t need to walk because we would carry you. He searched for you the minute you left. He went to Casey, and well, not nice things were said, but he wouldn’t let him hide anything. They didn’t tell me all the details; they would just tell me you were safe. But …” She looks down and blocks the sob from her mouth with her hands. “The day you changed your name.” My mouth opens. “Casey told him, and he collapsed on his knees as if someone had shot him in the chest. He tried to be strong the whole time, but that day, it took something from him. It took a piece away from him.” She shakes her head. “That’s what leaving did to the man who gave up everything for you. He didn’t give you his blood, but he gave you his name, and to me, that is more than just donating DNA.”
“I never meant to hurt you guys,” I finally say. “I never meant to hurt you guys. But you have to see that I doubted everything. It made me doubt everything.”
“Then we didn’t do a good enough job,” Beau says, and I want to tell them that they did everything right. “Because if we had done a good enough job, you wouldn’t have to doubt who you were or who you are.”