Chapter Thirty-five
Lucas
I have to park down the street due to the number of cars lining the cul-de-sac. Regan and I barely said two words to each other on the way here. What is there to say really? We agreed last night to tell them only what we told the reporter. Nothing more. Nothing less.
I race around the car, open her door, and help her out. I scan the cars as we walk up the sidewalk toward Blake’s house. Familiar cars owned by family and friends.
At the door, I reach over and squeeze her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re used to being gossiped about.”
Before I can ring the bell, Blake’s wife, Ellie, opens the door. She looks a bit confused that Regan and I are standing together—proof my brother really has been keeping our secret.
“Come in,” she signs.
“Thank you,” I say and sign back. “Nice to see you.”
“Hi, Ellie,” Regan signs. “How are you?”
The two women have a short conversation in ASL. Sometimes I forget Regan knows it. And as I watch them sign, I realize it’s one more reason I’m drawn to her. She fits. With me. With my family.
“You ready for this?” Dallas says, coming over to greet me.
“I’m not sure. But we don’t have a choice. Thanks for helping put this together on such short notice.”
Blake’s house is abuzz with conversation. Nobody seems particularly interested when I walk into the room. Nobody knows why they’re here. Everyone close to me is standing in this room. My family. Close friends. Most of the Calloways. There must be at least three dozen people.
Dallas and Blake arranged this emergency gathering after Sylvia gave us forty-eight hours to tell everyone before the story comes out.
Mom walks over. “Do you have any idea what this is all about? Nobody seems to know anything, and your brothers are being all secretive.”
Regan stares at me from ten feet away.
I nod. “Yeah. I do. And you’ll know in about two minutes.”
“Oh, Lucas… you aren’t quitting the business, are you?”
“It’s nothing like that. I promise.” I kiss her cheek. “Just please be happy for me,” I say, then walk over and stand in front of Blake and Ellie’s massive fireplace—as good a spot as any to announce our news.
“Thank you all for coming,” I say loudly.
Instantly, the room falls silent, everyone eager to hear why they’ve been summoned here so urgently.
Regan is standing off to the side, nestled next to Maddie Calloway as if she’s worried she’ll faint at any second. I’m not sure she’d be wrong. She is looking a bit pale. A few of my friends and relatives have noticed her and are giving second glances. Makes sense considering Regan is the one person who seems out of place. She’s the only person in this room who doesn’t have ties to anyone else here.
“We all know how the rumor mill goes in this town. I wanted to bring you all here and make sure you know the truth before you start hearing reporters spin the story.”
“How come Regan Lucas is here?” Storm Calloway calls out from the far corner.
Suddenly, three dozen pairs of eyes are trained on Regan. Despite her always saying she couldn’t care less what people think of her, I think she might actually collapse. I go over to her, take her elbow, and lead her back to stand beside me. “It’s going to be fine. It’ll be over in a second,” I whisper.
“Oh my god,” my cousin Sydney shrieks. “Are you a couple? Are you getting married?”
Gasps, incredulous huffs, and even laughter echo throughout Blake’s living room.
I’m about to open my mouth, when Regan speaks instead.
“No! No, no, no. Absolutely not,” she says, her steadfast denial driving a spike deep into my heart.
“Then what’s this all about?” Addison Calloway asks.
“We’re not getting married,” I say. “You all should know better than to think I’d put anyone through that again.” I chuckle awkwardly. “And, um… we’re not… together.” I glance at Regan. “But we are having a baby.”
More gasps. People look to each other to make sure they heard correctly.
“You’re what?” someone shouts from the back.
“We’re having a baby.” I reach over and touch Regan’s stomach. “Regan and I are having a child together. It’s a boy. He’s due in March. And we’re going to co-parent.”
“But…” Amber Thompson steps forward, studying her friend. “You’re not together?” She turns to me, raising a glaring brow, and I just know what she’s thinking—that I knocked her up and am refusing responsibility.
“By choice,” Regan says. “I turned thirty-five. Then Teddy was born. And you and Quinn adopted. I knew something was missing.”
“Same for me,” I assert. “I can’t seem to stick to any relationships with women, but I’ve always wanted kids. It seemed the perfect solution for both of us.”
“Wait,” Dani Calloway says, “so this wasn’t an accident?”
“No, Dani, this wasn’t an accident,” I confirm. “This was planned. And it wasn’t impulsive either. We have a contract outlining the legalities of how we’ll be raising our son.”
My mother steps forward, tears drowning her eyes, and takes Regan’s hand. “Contract or no, you’re having my grandchild, and that makes you family.”
She pulls Regan into a hug. Regan hugs her back. Her eyes even close. I know she’s thinking about her own mother and how she wishes she might react when hearing this news. But from what she’s told me, it’ll be nothing like this.
People swarm around us, firing off questions.
“Calm down, calm down!” I yell. “We’ll answer all your questions. That’s why we’re here. For damage control. There will be a story coming out tomorrow about this. A reporter who tried to get an interview from me after the whole Lissa engagement story hired someone to follow me. She has pictures of me going into the OB’s office. Photos of Regan and me together. She gave us two days to tell family. I have no idea what her story will be. She promised if we told our side, she’d be merciful. I guess we’ll see. But we wanted to make sure you knew the truth.”
The truth.
The words swirl in my head. The truth is we’re secretly sleeping together—even Sylvia Franco knows that, though she promised not to report it. The truth is I want more than a co-parenting situation with our son. The truth is I love the woman standing to my left.
But no one outside my siblings will ever know that truth. Not Sylvia Franco. Not the dozens of people in this room. And especially not Regan.
After answering what seems like a hundred questions, the room is quiet again.
“So that’s it?” Sydney says, her eyes bouncing between us. “You’re just going to co-parent? There’s nothing between you?”
I swallow and look at Regan. For a fraction of a second, I think I see something in her eyes. Something that’s obviously not there.
I shake my head, doing my best not to look disappointed, and say, “There’s nothing there. Nothing but friendship and a desire to have a child.”
And scorching hot sex.
I leave that part out. Not just because they don’t need to know about it, but because, sadly, after Sylvia showed up, Regan assured me that was ending.
Demographically, the people in Blake’s living room part like the Red Sea. The women gravitate toward Regan, wanting to see ultrasound photos and feel her belly. The men pull me aside, asking if I realize what I’m in for as a single dad.
For the better part of the evening, Regan and I are apart. We’re in the same place, but we’re not together. And I realize it’s just a taste of what’s to come.
Mom pulls me aside and hugs me. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Yes, Mom. I’m happy.”
“Are you sure?” She eyes me like only a mother who has decades of experience reading her children can. “Because if you don’t stop looking at Regan the way you have been all night, I doubt anyone in this room is going to buy your friends-only story.”
“What? That’s crazy.”
“A mother knows,” she says with a hard, all-knowing stare.
I blow out a long, painful sigh. “It’s completely one-sided.” I lean against the wall and lower my voice. “Karma is a real bitch. After all my trials and mishaps, I finally find the person I think is the one, and she wants nothing to do with me other than honoring the contract we signed.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I nod.
“You’ve told her how you feel?”
I shake my head. “I can’t risk it. It would ruin everything. Even if by some miracle she felt the same—which she doesn’t—I won’t hurt her. I won’t hurt her like the others. Because I know I would.”
“This is different than all the others, sweetheart. She’s having your child. That bonds you in a way you never had before.”
“I can’t. I’d rather have what we have. She’s become like a best friend, Mom. I can’t risk it. I won’t.”
“Having a best friend is important.” She pats my arm. “But having a best friend who is also your lover, the parent of your child, and your soul mate, is the ultimate bliss.” She rises up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “I’m just saying… the greater the risk, the greater the reward.”
And with that, she floats across the room right into Dad’s arms. He pulls her close, kissing her temple, and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. Thirty-three years they’ve been married, and they still seem like newlyweds.
I told myself I was getting that with Kaitlyn. I swore I was getting it with Simone. With Veronica. With Lissa. I stare across the room. Regan smiles brightly when she catches my gaze. She’s relieved we’ve finally told everyone. She can breathe easier. It’s not a secret anymore.
No. She has no more secrets to bear. Now I’m the only one who has to live with that kind of torture. The kind that has you wanting something so badly… something right there in front of you, yet still so out of reach.