Chapter Eight The Truth
Christian
L ast night, after coming back downstairs from Oliver’s room, I’d expected Haven to be waiting for me so we could continue where we left off. However, disappointment filled me when I discovered she’d left. At first, I thought maybe she went to the downstairs bathroom. But after gazing around, it was clear she was gone.
Confusion fills me, as well as embarrassment. I thought she was as into the kiss as I was. But maybe I’m wrong? Maybe I read too far into her flirtation and sweet personality and completely had the wrong idea about everything.
As much as I thought about letting Oliver skip daycare today because I’m unsure of what I’m going to be walking into when I see Haven this morning, I know I can’t. Structure is important for children his age, and I can’t change what I’m building for him just because I was a fucking idiot.
Embarrassment continues to course through me as I walk Oliver down the hall of the daycare toward his classroom. I’m usually so much better at reading people, but clearly I misread her somehow. Still, the way she responded to my kiss… how her body went soft and pliant and how eagerly her lips moved against mine… could I really have been so wrong?
When we reach the classroom door, I pause. Oliver looks up at me with a confused frown and tugs at my hand.
“Daddy, I want to play.”
I look down at him and force a smile. Trying hard not to let it show how bothered I am about being here right now. “Right, right. I know, bud. Daddy just got distracted.”
“Diss—tract—ed?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it, buddy,” I insist with a chuckle ruffling his hair. “Let’s go in and see your friends.”
I open the door and we walk inside. Other children are already playing and Oliver immediately releases my hand to go join them.
“See you later,” I call after him, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. Or, more likely, he doesn’t really care as his focus is already locked onto a tub of blocks.
Glancing around the room, I spot Haven. She’s squatting in front of a little girl, listening intently as the kid talks to her animatedly. Haven is smiling and nodding, and I can’t help but grin at the sight. She looks beautiful today with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a blue shirtdress.
As if she can feel my eyes on her, Haven looks up and meets my gaze. My heart races and the color drains from her face. She tells the little girl something and then stands up. Twisting her hands together in front of her nervously, she crosses the room to her teacher’s aide, whispers to the woman, and then moves toward me.
“Hey,” she says when she reaches me.
“Hey,” I reply, slipping my hands into my pockets, rocking back on my heels. Christ, why am I being so awkward? It’s not like I’ve never been rejected before. I mean, it hasn’t happened in a long, long time, but still… it’s happened.
“Um… I want to apologize for last night,” she says in a soft voice. “I shouldn’t have just taken off like that, but…”
“It’s okay,” I assure her. This isn’t a conversation I’m keen on having, especially not with Oliver nearby. “We don’t need to revisit it. It happened, it’s over. We can move on.”
She furrows her brows and looks taken aback by my response.
“Oh, okay,” she murmurs. “I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings or anything.”
I swallow hard, feeling a knot of unease tighten in my chest. The last thing I want is for Haven to think I’m brushing her off, but how do I handle this without making things even more uncomfortable?
“No hard feelings,” I say, forcing a smile that I hope looks more genuine than it feels. “Really. It’s fine.”
She bites her lip, her eyes flicking down to the floor before she looks back up at me. There’s something in her gaze that I can’t quite read—something hesitant, maybe even conflicted.
“I just… I don’t want to cross that line. It’s complicated, since Oliver’s in my classroom, and… I don’t want things to get weird and possibly affect him.”
That makes sense, I suppose.
I didn’t think to consider that maybe that was why she ran out like she did last night. But it makes sense for her to leave if she feels like it's a conflict of interest.
“Same here,” I agree quickly, maybe too quickly. Of course, she’s looking out for Oliver, which I appreciate, but I wouldn’t let anything happen to my son. Still, I need to respect her wishes… at least until I can figure out a way to convince her otherwise. “We’re good, Haven. No weirdness.”
She nods slowly, her fingers still twisting together.
“Okay. Good.” There’s a beat of silence, and then she takes a small step back, like she’s preparing to retreat. “I should get back to the kids, but, um… I’m glad we talked.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say, even though I’m not sure I mean it. She turns to go, and I watch her walk away, feeling like I just missed an opportunity to say something—anything—that might clear the air between us. What could I have said, though? That I can’t stop thinking about the way she kissed me back?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. This isn’t the time or place for these thoughts, and besides, Haven made it clear she doesn’t want to cross that line. I will respect that. But as I leave the classroom and head back down the hallway, a nagging doubt lingers in the back of my mind. Did I really misread everything that badly, or is there something more going on with her?
I’m so lost in my thoughts as I reach the main entrance of the daycare and step outside that I don’t notice the paparazzi until the cameras start flashing.
Freezing, I gaze out in disbelief at half a dozen people aiming their cameras at me and shouting my name.
“Christian! Christian! What are you doing in Blue Ridge Falls?”
“Is it true you moved here because of a legal matter?”
“Is this your son’s daycare?”
“Is it true that you and Theresa are battling for custody?”
Fuck! I quickly step back into the daycare and shut the doors, my mind racing as panic seizes me. How the hell did they find me? I was so careful… someone had to have tipped them off.
Was it Theresa? Her mother? Who else could it be?
“Chris? What’s going on?”
I spin around and meet Maggie’s concerned gaze. She’s sitting at her usual spot behind the reception desk. Her eyes dart from me to the group of leeches outside and back. All I can do is stare at her for several moments because I don’t know what to say. I’ve been working so hard to keep my identity under wraps, but that plan seems to have just gone up in smoke. Now the problem is explaining why I’ve been lying about who I am.
Shit… what if Haven finds out?
I'm abruptly pulled from my thoughts when hurried footsteps approach, their sound echoing ominously in the silence of the hallway. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Haven. Her distinct, lighthearted scent of vanilla and cinnamon precedes her arrival.
“Chris? Hold on! I…” she begins, but her words trail off as she sees the crowd through the glass doors. “Whoa," she breathes out, looking from me to the paparazzi and back again. “What is this?”
“I…” I stop, swallowing hard as I grapple with what to say. The last thing I ever wanted was for Haven to find out who I really am like this.
The color drains from her face as she eyes me suspiciously. “Chris… are those people here for you?”
One of the photographers manages to get a shot through the glass door. The bright light momentarily obscures my vision, leaving spots floating before my eyes.
“I…” The words catch in my throat. How am I supposed to explain everything now? That I’m a billionaire oil tycoon stuck in a custody battle? That I didn’t tell her because I liked how she treated me? That she looked at me like I’m just a normal man?
“Haven,” I begin again, deciding that honesty is my only option at this point. “I’m…”
But before I can finish, Maggie steps in front of me and braces herself against the door. She glares at the photographers outside and dials something hastily on her phone as she cracks the front door open.
“I’m calling the cops!” she shouts. “This is private property and we have young children here! Go away!”
The photographers flinch at her words, but they don't retreat. Instead, they become more frenzied, angling their cameras for a better shot through the slightly ajar door.
I grab Haven’s arm, steering her back down the hallway and away from the relentless scrutiny of the prying eyes.
“Let's talk in here,” I say, gesturing to an unoccupied classroom.
Once inside, I close the door behind us and turn around to face her. There’s a bewildered look on her face as she wraps her arms around herself protectively, distancing herself from me.
“Chris,” she says, and though there’s fear in her voice, there’s also a strength that surprises and impresses me. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I…” My confession sticks in my throat again as I struggle to find the right words. I don’t want to hurt Haven, or worse, lose her trust completely. But it seems like I don’t have a choice now.
Taking a deep breath, I look at her squarely in the eyes and say with brutal honesty, “My real name is Christian Tallow. I’m… I'm not exactly who you think I am."
Her eyes widen in surprise as she processes this information. “Tallow? As in Tallow Oil?”
“Yes,” I admit with a slight nod.
She takes a step back from me as if she's been physically struck by my admission.
“Why didn't you tell me?” She looks hurt and disappointed. “Was this some kind of joke to you?”
“No!” The word leaves my lips more forcefully than I intend it to. “It was never a joke, Haven.”
“Then why lie about who you are?” Her voice trembles with emotion; anger, betrayal… it kills me to see it.
“I didn’t want my past or my money changing how people saw me,” I say quietly. “I just wanted to be a normal person again.”
She seems to contemplate my words, her brown eyes studying mine intently. I know she’s trying to come to terms with this new information, and I can only hope that she'll find it in her heart to forgive me.
The silence between us is palpable. Overwhelmed by the situation, Haven takes a seat at one of the miniature desks meant for the children and buries her face into her hands. I watch her, torn between wanting to comfort her and giving her space.
Right then, we hear a knock on the door, followed by Maggie's voice, “Chris… Haven… the police are here.”
“Let them deal with the photographers. We need a moment,” I call out, not taking my eyes off Haven.
“Alright, just letting you know,” Maggie responds, her voice sounding worried and uncertain before fading away.
Silence stretches between us again, a discomforting quiet that's only broken by the faint murmur of voices outside the door and the occasional camera flash that seeps in from the semi-closed blinds.
Haven finally lifts her head from her hands, her eyes rimmed red but determined.
“You’re right,” she says quietly. “You didn’t have to tell me. It’s your life, not mine.”
Her words sting like a slap to my face. It isn't what I expect nor what I hope for. I want her to yell at me so we can argue it out, not this form of harsh acceptance that creates an insurmountable wall between us.
“I…” The words don't come easily to me now. Haven watches me patiently, her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive stance.
I clear my throat and try again, “What I mean is… yes,” I take an uneasy breath, gathering my thoughts before finally speaking, “It's my life. But, Haven,” I feel a desperate plea building up inside me, “I didn’t intend to deceive you. It’s just… it’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it’s complicated,” she grumbles. “Still… you could have told me. You should have told me, especially since we…”
Since we kissed. She doesn’t say it, but I know that’s what she’s thinking. She thought we’d crossed a line when I was just Chris, a blue-collar single dad who worked for the oil rig. Now, I’m Christian Tallow, and as much as I hate it, I know that might change everything between us.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” she says, shaking her head. “I need to get back to the kids… my aide is probably freaking out and I don’t want the kids getting scared with all this commotion.”
“Haven, I’m sorry…”
She turns to walk away and pauses briefly at the door to look over at me from her shoulder. “We’ll talk later… Christian.”
Her cool tone as she says my full name is like a punch to my gut, but I don’t stop her as she heads back to her classroom. I’ve made a mess of things, I know, and if I’m going to regain any bit of Haven’s trust, I need to figure out how to clean this all up.