6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Ezra cruised down the quiet cobblestone road, pressed answer on his motorcycle helmet’s Bluetooth when Hailey’s name popped up. The tech had come a long way in the last twenty years—and he had a hell of a lot nicer bike than he had when he’d been younger too. “Hey short stuff.”
“Hey yourself,” she said. “I hear things are getting a little wild down there. You want me to come visit? Jesse always likes an excuse to look at real estate.”
He laughed lightly as he pulled up behind a sleek white BMW idling at the four-way stop. “I’m good, promise. I know you guys are busy anyway. What job are you working on now?” he asked, mainly because he didn’t want to talk about his personal life. As a rule, he never wanted to talk about his past, but Hailey was one of the few people who knew about Magnolia. As little as he’d told her anyway.
“I know you’re changing the subject, but fine. We just brought down a big group of assholes trafficking people through a port in Jacksonville. I’m glad to be home, but even happier that we were able to help.”
He was sure there was more to the story, and wanted to hear it, but his head was too messed up right now. “Good.” He paused as he turned onto Magnolia’s street, tension bunching inside him. “I don’t know what the hell to say to her,” he blurted. “I need advice how to handle this.” Something he rarely if ever had said to anyone. But it was easier to talk to Hailey since he wasn’t looking at her right now—and he trusted her. Of all his friends, he didn’t think there was a judgmental bone in her body.
Hailey’s answer was immediate. “ Ask for the truth. Find out what happened and why she kept this from you if he’s your son. And…I looked at the information Berlin compiled. It’s thorough. I did a little dive on the woman because I couldn’t help myself and didn’t find anything new. On the surface and from your own experiences, she’s not a bad person. So when you go into this, don’t be accusatory. Just talk to her and keep a level voice and head. Because at the end of the day, if that kid is yours and you go in there acting like a douche, you’ll ruin things before they start. That’s his mom, the woman who raised him.”
He shoved out a breath as he pulled into a spot a few houses down from her place. There was a large, stately fence lining her property, complete with a security gate. But he wasn’t sure if she’d buzz him in so he decided to park here and hope for the best. “I don’t think I could yell at her anyway.” He was beyond pissed, but at the end of the day…this was Magnolia. And Hailey was right. “I’ll assume the best and expect the worst.”
“There you go. One of the mottos I live by. Always expect the worst.”
He snort-laughed as he shut his bike off. “No doubt. All right, I’m parked. I’ll talk to you later.” Because he needed to do this now before he changed his mind.
Once they disconnected, all that tension was back, bunching in his shoulders and down his spine. And now a heavy rock had settled in his gut to even things out. Especially because he wasn’t sure if she’d reject him. He hadn’t called her, even though he’d known it was a risk just showing up like this.
The sun was down, but the neighborhood had plenty of streetlights and most of the yards, walls or fences had different solar lights illuminating everything, including the addition of Christmas and Hannukah decorations.
At Magnolia’s gate, he buzzed the little keypad and made sure his face was clear in the camera. He was surprised when the gate opened a few seconds later. Then her voice came over the intercom. “Just come on up to the front door. If you drove, feel free to park in the driveway.”
So surprised by her immediately letting him in, Ezra didn’t even trust his voice and simply strode through the opening gate instead of going back to get his ride. Because not so deep down, he was worried that she’d change her mind and reject him entrance.
And if that wasn’t a metaphor for how he’d felt their entire relationship… “Jesus, get it together,” he growled to himself as he stalked down the driveway. Light-up candy canes illuminated the entire drive.
It wasn’t too long, just a simple driveway that led to the garage of the stately two-story brick house with lush foliage, even this late in the year. The place looked like her too. Warm, welcoming, elegant and beautiful. A giant Christmas tree was visible through one of the windows, golds and reds sparkling.
As he reached the front steps, the door swung open and there she was.
Magnolia Lavigne. The girl, now woman, of his dreams. Still. Because nothing had changed in that respect.
He had one type. Her.
And he hated that.
Her dark hair was pulled up in a sort of bun thing on her head, loose with a few strands falling out and framing her face. In dark jeans and a soft-looking cream-colored sweater, and socks covered in reindeer—he imagined this was what she normally looked like when relaxing at home.
Though nothing about her expression was relaxed.
“You can come in if you want.” She stepped back, motioning for him to come inside.
And he hated the way his heart kicked against his chest, beating overtime just because he was in her vicinity. Simply nodding, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped inside, the subtle scents of cinnamon and vanilla lifting in the air.
“Is he mine?” he blurted. “The kid?”
Magnolia gave him a strange look, then softly snorted. “Uh, yeah .” Then she sighed and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, let’s sit in the kitchen. Lucas isn’t here so we can talk freely.”
He wasn’t sure about that look, or that tone. As if he should already know that the kid—Lucas—was his. As he followed after, he got an entire snapshot of their lives in a wall of pictures .
His throat tightened as he saw them one by one, Magnolia and Lucas on his first day of kindergarten, on a vacation somewhere sunny and warm, the two of them making silly faces at the camera with snorkeling masks on. Later ones when he was probably twelve, the two of them dressed up and standing outside the Saenger Theater, probably for a play. Pictures with Lucas and his grandparents, Lucas and random people he didn’t know. Probably Magnolia’s relatives or friends. Lucas standing in front of an older-looking Jeep, his arm wrapped around his mom’s shoulders and smiling widely as he held up the keys.
Blood rushed in his ears, wild and loud, but somehow he managed to get himself under control, to breathe, as he stepped into the sparkling kitchen with high ceilings. There were more pictures in here, but all over the refrigerator. So he didn’t look at them.
“I kind of want to ask how you found out where I live, but I guess it’s not too hard,” she murmured as she pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge, set it in front of him.
“A friend of mine looked you up. You’ve done a lot for the city, just like you always wanted,” he murmured as he sat at the island top. There was a bowl of fruit and a bowl of nuts and other healthy snacks.
She pulled out a little cheese tray, some type of muffins that looked fresh, then a bag of crackers and set them in front of him. “The crackers go good with the cheese. And the muffins are zucchini but they’re good. Eat,” she murmured and he wondered if it was an old habit that had never died, or just her way. Because she’d always been feeding him, trying to take care of him when they’d been together. Clearing her throat, she continued, “I know you’re not here to talk about me so let’s just get down to it.”
Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, but he nodded all the same. “Okay, so why didn’t you tell me about him?” Did his voice sound steady? He couldn’t tell, because blood was still rushing in his ears like a freight train.
She blinked at him, then let out a harsh, angry laugh. “Are you really going to play it that way?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She stared at him hard for a long moment. Then she said, “I called you so many times, texted you too. But your phone was disconnected. I tried to tell you about him. So many times.”
When he went to interrupt, she held up a hand.
“I’m not done. I went to your house, the one you lived in on Wilson Circle. You were gone, and so was your dad. I guess the owner kicked your dad out because there was a For Sale sign. I talked to the woman who lived next door. I either don’t remember her name or never learned it, but she was chain smoking the entire time we talked and said you used to mow her lawn sometimes. She called you a good boy. She also told me that you’d left, had signed up for the Marines and were heading to Camp Pendleton.”
Ezra nodded, stunned. Mrs. Dantzler had indeed been his chain-smoking neighbor. She’d had a hard life, but had always had a kind word for him, had occasionally let him crash in her living room when his dad had gone on a bender. “Yeah, I signed up after you ended things with me, told me never to contact you again.”
She blinked, real surprise in her pretty blue eyes. “I never ended things with you. You ghosted me! You just disappeared, as if…” Her voice cracked on the last word. “As if nothing between us mattered. But I still sent letters, trying to let you know about Lucas. It took a while but I managed to find an address. Lucas had been born by then. I included pictures and—” She turned away from him, her voice cracking again as she gave him her back.
He was moving before he could stop himself, before he was even fully aware, and rounded the island, desperate to touch her, to…comfort her. “I never received any letters,” he managed to rasp out. Because none of this was what he’d expected. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but let it drop. He didn’t have the right to touch her anymore, hadn’t for a long time. “I received your wedding invitation.”
She swiveled then, tears tracking down her cheeks, but she angrily dashed them away. “What the hell are you talking about?” She took a little step back from him and he realized he was towering over her .
So he stepped back, sat at the island again. He’d used his size against people to get what he wanted, namely assholes who deserved it. But never with women, and never, ever with Magnolia. “Yep. I received a wedding invitation that I now know—as in only an hour ago—wasn’t real. It was for you and a man name Henri Fontenot.”
She blinked. “Henri?” Then she snorted out a brittle laugh. “Definitely not real.”
“I know I’ve said it, but I never ghosted you.”
“And I never ended things with you.” She stared at him for a loooong, hard moment. “And I believe that you’re telling the truth.” She sounded shocked by that. “Oh my god, you never knew about Lucas?”
“No. And I didn’t ghost you,” he said again, because screw that. He wanted that crystal clear between them. As if he could have ever walked away from her.
He couldn’t read her expression at all; her pretty blue eyes were mostly just shocked. Then she frowned, looked down at her phone, winced. Then groaned. “Mari is here. Can you just stay put?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she left, her movements jerky as she rushed from the kitchen.
What the hell had just happened?