Chapter Ten
A loud whirring noise wakes us.
Kade’s arm is looped around me, heavy and warm.
“Get your lazy ass out of bed, Kade Tucker,” someone yells from somewhere inside his apartment. It’s a woman’s voice. She sounds young.
“Shit,” mutters Kade. “My sister’s here.”
There’s more of the whirring sound which I can now identify as a coffee bean grinder and it’s not long before the smell of brewing coffee wafts into the room.
“Your tour bus leaves in two hours, your majesty,” she yells out. “No one needs that much beauty sleep, not even you.”
The loud footsteps of what I’m guessing might be cowboy boots gets closer and there’s a banging on the bedroom door. “KJ. Wake up.”
“Jesus, Rox,” Kade groans. “What the fuck?”
“I’m barging in there if you’re not out in five. Coffee’s almost ready.”
“Then take it to your own apartment and drink it over there. Come back in an hour.”
She’s quiet for a second, maybe realizing that he has company. “Fine. You’ve got one hour and not a minute longer.” Her footsteps head back out to the kitchen. There’s the banging of a kitchen cupboard. Then she walks through the living room and there’s the thud of the door that leads out to the deck slamming shut.
“She loves slamming doors.”
“Where’s your tour bus taking you?” I murmur into the crook of his neck.
“New Orleans. I’ve got a gig there tonight. Which you’re coming to, by the way.”
I wriggle loose of his bear hug, or at least attempt to. His burly arm stays secure around me. “New Orleans?”
“Yes. I have a house there. You’ll like it.”
“But ... I can’t go to New Orleans.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve never been there.”
“That’s a reason to go to New Orleans, not to not go to New Orleans.”
We still haven’t talked about any kind of plans or how we’re going to handle whatever’s happening, going forward. “We need to talk about that. I can’t just put my life on hold forever—”
“You’re not putting your life on hold, darlin.’ You’re starting to live it. Exactly the way you want to. Remember?”
But just the mention of real life sort of highlights all the responsibilities I’ve completely ignored for days on end. “God, I need to go get my car. It’s still parked in that parking garage. I hope it hasn’t been towed. It said long-term but it’s been almost a week and I need to call my sister and let my parents know that I’m—”
“I’ll get someone to get your car and park it in my private garage. Which is in the building just around the corner. You can call your sister on the way to New Orleans. And your parents. Tell them you’ll be back in Nashville in a week. And you’ve decided to stay here while you write your book.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, like there’s nothing to protest or work through. He lays me onto my back. He’s kissing my breasts, nuzzling my nipples and sucking one, then the other into his mouth. I try to push him away but there’s no dislodging him. “ Kade. We need to talk about some of this stuff. All we do is have sex and at some point we really need to figure a few things out.”
“We just did.” He moves lower, kissing a line down my stomach. “Besides, sex with you is too good to think about anything else. Baby, I need my fix so bad.”
Before I can squirm away—which is impossible because he’s as strong as a damn ox—to try to figure out how I’m going to handle what feels like sort of a major decision, he’s pinning my legs wide and his mouth is on me, licking me slowly, tasting me deeply. “ Mine, ” he’s murmuring against me as he lazily eats me out. “ Fuck, you are the sweetest thing. You’re mine, baby girl. This pussy is mine. Mine. Mine .”
Kade Tucker loves going down on me. And he isn’t just good at it, he’s a freaking genius. His dirty mouth paints me with warm sensation, delving deep as he fucks me with his tongue.
My mind goes blank and I forget what I was about to tell him. I let my fingers weave through the thick silk of his hair, letting him do whatever he wants.
He sucks on my clit, feasting on my pleasure with his sexual-spiritual hunger until I’m shattering in tight, clenching bursts of pleasure as I moan his name.
When the ripples begin to calm, he climbs up my body and uses the wetness to ease his massive cock’s entry, sliding his huge thickness deep inside me, forcing me to take all of him. His cock feels like hot, thick magic. It stretches me, pressing and rubbing every pleasure point I own, driving into me with possessive strokes that give me no choice but to take all of him. I wrap my arms and my legs around him as he whispers sweet words to me. You’re my paradise. I love how you feel. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.
Until the orgasm becomes the highest and most intense one yet, each time. The pleasure isn’t just physical, but whole-souled. My emotions and my cravings have wrapped themselves around this man along with my body. He’s imprinting himself into every part of me so insistently that I don’t know how I’m going to survive him. With him or without him. He takes me again to the heights of what I can handle, filling me to the brink with his flooding heat until my body is squeezing and drawing as much of him inside as I can take. Until I’m overflowing with cum and the pleasure overload he insists on.
And when we’re both sated, slowly coming down from all that, he says, “Now, what were you saying?”
“I can’t remember.”
He laughs softly and pulls out. The gush of his cum spills out of me. “Come on. We’re taking a shower. Then we’re going to New Orleans.”
Kade is heating up some homemade biscuits. He pulls them out of the oven and smooths some real butter onto them with a knife. He puts two on a plate and sets it in front of me.
“Where are your keys?” he asks. “One of my assistants can go and get your car.”
“Kade Tucker has assistants?” I don’t know why I find this funny.
“I think I have three or four of them, I can’t keep track. Roxie organizes them.”
“I can just go and get it. It’s not far—”
“They’ll do it.”
“Are you sure they won’t mind, I can easily—”
“Yes. What do you drive?”
I get my keys out of my bag. “A white 2010 Honda Civic.”
His eyebrows furrow in the middle. “2010?” Like this is somehow unbelievable to him. No doubt he drives something brand new and top of the line.
“Well,” I say, “we can’t all be rock stars. It has a Princeton sticker on the bumper. I have some cash in here somewhere for the parking.”
“Put that away, darlin’. I bought you a present, by the way. And now I know the next present I’m getting you. I also thought we could courier that minuscule diamond over there back to New Jersey where it belongs. Since you won’t be needing it anymore.”
I’m still looking in my bag for the three hundred dollar bills I stashed in a side pocket in case of emergencies. I hope it’s enough. I glance over at the table where the small, innocent little velvet box is still sitting. “Sure. But we’d better track it. I wouldn’t want it to go missing.”
“No, that would be a crying shame.”
“I want to include a note.” I dig around in my bag to find a piece of paper and a pen. But what to say? I keep it short, scrawling onto the paper: Hi Theo, I wanted to return this to you. I really appreciate the offer. You’re a special person and I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us. I hope we can still be friends. xo, Stella
“ XO?” Kade’s reading the note over my shoulder. “Why the fuck would you be sorry?”
Here we go again. I huff a light laugh. “Seriously?” I once fantasized about meeting an alpha, and I guess this comes with the territory. His jealousy is on overdrive. He’s not wearing a shirt, and his big, inked muscles are sort of clenched and pumped up.
So I patiently explain. “I didn’t want to write ‘love’ or ‘yours,’ because neither of those are true. ‘Best’ sounds too formal, and so does ‘sincerely.’ But ‘xo’ is basically innocuous, almost like a punctuation. I am sorry if I caused Theo any sadness, which I did, because he’s a friend and I don’t like doing that to people. But I’m not sorry he proposed.”
Kade’s eyes narrow a fraction.
“His proposal was a big part of the reason I needed to get away from Princeton. It’s part of the reason I ended up in Nashville, in the pouring rain on the night I ran into you. If it wasn’t for Theo, I never would have met you.”
He begrudgingly accepts that. “Here.” A large wrapped rectangular box is sitting on the marble counter. He pushes it closer to me. “Open it.”
“What’s this?”
“I guess you’ll have to open it to find out.”
“I don’t want you buying me presents.” This whole thing feels very uneven, money-wise. He obviously has more money than God, but still.
“Open it.” He pours me another cup of coffee. He always makes sure I get exactly two.
I unwrap the white paper. Inside is a sleek, plastic-wrapped white box. With a very-familiar apple logo on the top of it. “Is this ... ?”
“It’s the newest MacBook Pro.”
Wow. These things cost a fortune. “I already have a laptop.”
“I thought it might be good for you to have a new one. A fresh start. To write your book.”
It’s true my old Dell is starting to show its age. I bought it the summer before I started college. But this is way too much. “Kade, I can’t accept this.”
“No protesting. Surrender to the process. This is the beginning of your new life. We’ll get you all set up and I want to see a draft of chapter one by the end of the week.”
“I don’t want you buying me things, I’ve told you that.”
“I’ve got more money than I can spend, darlin.’ And Gage keeps tripling the damn stuff.” He pulls me closer, leaning to kiss my neck in an intimate claim. He unwraps the plastic and opens the box.
I mean, it’s a beautiful machine. “You’re like my therapist, my fantasy man and my enlightenment instructor all rolled into one,” I tell him. “And now my sugar daddy too? It’s a little much.”
“Don’t forget knight in shining armor.” He takes a bite of a biscuit. Then he laughs.
The door to the patio opens and in walks one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Kade’s sister. She has long dark hair and the same movie-star blue eyes as Kade and Vaughn. With her boots, jeans and fitted plaid shirt, she’s got a real cowgirl vibe. She’s petite and cute but you get the feeling from the direct, no-nonsense look on her face that she’s someone people would think twice about messing with. She’s also clearly another family member who’s wildly curious about her brother’s guest. “Now that’s a sound I haven’t heard in a long time,” she says, checking me out from head to toe.
“What sound?” Kade asks.
“You. Laughing.”
Kade winks at me. “Stella Bell, my sister Roxie. Rox, this is Stella.”
Roxie walks over to me, smiling widely. “Can I hug you?”
“Uh, sure.”
She gives me a heartfelt hug. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Let’s not be melodramatic, honey,” Kade says to her, still grinning.
Roxie holds the hug for a few seconds longer. Then she holds me at arms length, with her hands on my shoulders. “Kade, she’s perfect. Can we keep her?”
“She’s definitely a keeper,” he says.
Roxie helps herself to one of the biscuits from the warming tray. “Do you realize you haven’t laughed or hardly even smiled once in the last few months? This situation is a million times better. And a lot less scary.”
She’s being subtle, sort of, but I know who Roxie’s referring to, of course. “We ran into her last night,” I say.
Roxie’s eyes get wide. “You did ? What happened? Did she go ballistic?”
“It was sort of terrifying,” I admit.
“Holy fuck,” Roxie says. “I’ve spent all of the past five months worrying that she’d somehow get her hooks even deeper in. She’s crazy and unpredictable and I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.”
“Yeah, we don’t need to talk about her anymore.” Kade is clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “She’s ancient history.”
“Let’s hope so,” Roxie adds, “For all our sakes.” I immediately get the impression that Roxie’s one of those people who says everything that pops into her head. “I just hope she doesn’t do something like try to get revenge—”
“Rox,” Kade cuts her off. “You coming to New Orleans with us?”
She grins at me. “Stella’s going with you?”
“Of course she is. She has a book to write.”
“You’re a writer?”
“Well, not quite. I’m hoping to figure it out as I go.”
“As much as I’d love to be your third wheel, everything’s organized, so you don’t need me. All you have to do is show up.” Roxie pulls her phone out of her back pocket and checks an incoming message. “The bus is here.”
Roxie hugs us both again, gushing a few more times about how happy she is to meet me.
A short time later, I find myself on the most state-of-the-art bus I’ve ever seen. Inside, it looks like a night club, with a big-screen TV, a kitchen, living room and four upstairs bedrooms.
Kade leads me to two leather couches that face each other next to the big windows and I take a seat on one as he answers a phone call.
The bus starts up and we drive through central Nashville and I look out the windows and I’m struck by how at home I feel in this city that’s so new to me. Something about it feels like it’s already digging in, so easily, like a piece of it already lived there before I even arrived.
We fire up the MacBook and it’s not long before everything is set up with my email and office.
I open a brand new document.
Kade’s sitting on the opposite facing leather couch picking out a tune on his guitar. I watch him for a while and it strikes me how comfortable it all feels, with him. Some people just have a calming presence about them and he’s one of those people. Like he’s absorbing angst and emitting it back out as a staunch, manly peacefulness. His relaxed, supportive vibe gives me the confidence to start.
I type in Chapter One .
It’s daunting.
The little cursor sits there on the blank page pointing at all that nothingness.
The music stops and I look up at him.
“Don’t be scared of it,” he says, strumming a chord. “Just start writing whatever comes to mind. Don’t worry about whether it’s good or bad to begin with. Start typing and let whatever you can think of just pour itself onto the pages. Ready?”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Of course you can do it. Just start right there on page one and keep going.”
And so I do. I start writing.
It comes surprisingly easily. I realize I’ve been thinking a lot about how the story is going to unfold. I’ve read a thousand books and with each one I noticed the things I liked about the characters and the plotlines. The settings and the twists. All of it. I’ve got everything mapped out in my head.
So I start with my heroine. Her name is Daisy. She’s from New York City. I know the landscape of her days. I can see the slant of the light in her one-bedroom apartment she chose for the windows and the view, and the tiny balcony that, if you stand at the southernmost end, you can see the Empire State Building. She bought the apartment with the money from her first exhibition, which got her noticed. Her thoughts land fully formed. Her excitement for her work. Her best friends and her memories of her most recent bad dates. And there, in the middle of everything, is the big hole of loneliness of one specific kind. Not that she needs a man. She’s self-sufficient. She’s the envy of her friends because she’s getting serious attention from the critics and the buyers for her talent. She’s selling her paintings for real money and one of her pieces was recently written up in the Times.
“We’re here, darlin’.”
“What?”
The bus has come to a stop.
Wow. I’ve been writing for six hours straight. “What time is it?”
“Around seven. Come on.”
I instantly fall in love with Kade’s house in New Orleans. It’s grand but also quaint, with original features that have been restored with an artist’s flair and modern detailing. Stained glass lamps paint the cozy spaces with romantic, colorful light. The house is rambling, and Kade leads me up to the master bedroom. There’s a massive bed that looks like something from a magazine spread. But there are personal touches too. An old bass guitar on a stand. Some photographs on the dresser of Kade as a teenager with his brothers. I walk closer. There’s another photo, of a young couple, smiling and looking very much in love. The man has dark hair. I can see Vaughn in him. And Roxie has the same coloring. The woman has light brown hair with sun-bleached streaks of blond. She’s dreamily beautiful and I can see Kade in the shape of her eyes. “Is this your parents?”
“Yes. Just before they got married.” The heaviness of their memory in him carries weight. “They died in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry, Kade.”
“It was a long time ago now. Here, I want to show you something. Come with me.”
He leads me to the far end of the bedroom where there’s a door. He opens it and I follow him up a narrow, curved staircase that leads to another room. It has a double bed, a couch, several chairs and a large wooden desk that sits next to a curving nook of paned, old-glass windows. From up here you can see the garden behind the house and some trees and rooftops.
It’s literally the most to-die-for space I could have imagined.
Kade turns on the green glass library lamp that’s sitting on the desk. “It could be a good workspace for you while we’re here, if you like it.”
“I love it,” I whisper, sort of stunned by how much I love it. I wander through the room, feathering my fingers across the surface of the desk. The chair is one of those modern ergonomically-designed office chairs but it’s made of leather, so it fits in with the softer details of this perfect room. I half-sit against the sturdy desk, taking it all in. “I love both your houses but this one’s my favorite.”
He smiles, his head tilting ever so slightly. His eyes are so soulful and blue I wonder if I’m dreaming him. “I’m glad you like it. I have a few more to show you too.”
It’s hard to get used to. “Houses. Tour buses. Staff. Number one hits. There must be nothing you haven’t achieved.”
“There’s one thing.” He’s gotten all intense about it, but he takes his time. One of the things I love most about him is his easy unhurriedness. There’s not a rushed or agitated thing about him. He’s steady. He’s someone you want to lean your life against because you know you won’t fall down if he’s there supporting you.
“What else could you want that you don’t already have?”
“One of the two things I wanted out of life came easily. The music. My brothers and I have been playing together since we were kids. We had some talent, a lot of drive and a look that people were intrigued by. Most of all, we believed it would happen. Right from the start, the whole thing gained momentum and took on a life of its own. That part of the equation was sort of effortless. I mean we worked at it and that’s basically all we do so I’m not going to say it was easy, but in a lot of ways it was easy. Once we made the decision to make ourselves heard, it turned out that a few people wanted to listen.”
“A lot of people,” I say softly. “Your songs are numbers one, two, four and eight on the billboard charts right now.”
“You googled us?”
“I googled you.”
A smile plays at the corner of his mouth, like he’s pleased by this. “What’d you find out?”
“That you’re even more of a superstar than I knew. That you’re a ‘dreamy beefcake’ and ‘the sexiest mystery man in music.’ Also that you’re a one-woman man and you don’t usually sleep around. You tend to have long-term relationships, unlike your brothers.”
“It said all that?”
“And a lot more.”
“Well, that’s it right there. That’s the other part of the equation. The one that’s a lot harder to find.”
“What other part of the equation?”
“The other thing I wanted out of life. To fall in love.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, but then he says, “I felt like I was wasting time and spinning my wheels but going nowhere. I was starting to think it was never going to happen for me.”
I get this flutter of wild, tumbling hope somewhere behind my soul but I don’t give it oxygen because I couldn’t bear it if I’m wrong about what he’s going to say next.
“So I decided,” he continues, “that I wasn’t going to try anymore because it clearly wasn’t in the cards for me and it was always just so damn disappointing. Not just disappointing. Heartbreaking. I spent years with a broken heart. So I gave up.”
“You did?” I whisper.
“I did. You want to know when I made that decision?”
“When?”
“Exactly five minutes before I ran into you on that dark street in the pouring rain.”
“You ... did?”
“I did. And right at that moment, as soon as I looked into your green eyes that were breaking my heart even more but at the same time fixing it because there was something so wrong about such a beautiful girl crying and getting rained on, so lost and all alone. But that’s when I knew.”
He knew.
I can barely whisper the words. “You knew what?”
“I knew that I wasn’t giving up after all. Because there you were. And I realize that was, in fact, only a week ago. Which you might think is too soon to be having revelations like this. You might be thinking that we’ve just spent a week in bed together and it’s fireworks every single time but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s love, because we don’t know each other very well and we don’t know all the intricacies of each other’s personalities or backstories or families or moods. You might think a week isn’t long enough to know if you’re in love with someone or not, that it’s attraction, and lust, but not more than that yet, because it’s too soon. But the thing is, darlin’, I don’t think it is too soon. Because I knew it from that very first second. I knew it then and I know it now. I’ve been looking for it for a long time so I know what’s been missing and I know when it’s not missing anymore. When it’s suddenly there and real and it feels better than anything ever has. With you, it felt like I took a direct hit from a million watt lightning bolt. I love the color of your eyes and the way your long eyelashes get blond at the very tips. I love your little dimple and the way it quirks when I’ve said something you like. I love the scent of you, like springtime. I love that we laugh. I love how you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. I love that you’re a romantic, like me. I fucking love the way you feel. And I realize it’s not something you might be able to accept for a while and I get that. It’s okay. I can take my time and I’ll work on convincing you. There’s no rush. But I’m all in, baby. I’m in love with you. Like, crazy in love with you. And I don’t want you to say anything or do anything but wanted you to know that.”
God.
I stare into his blue eyes and I can’t believe I’ve found him. “I’m in love with you too, Kade Tucker.”
His eyes get those yummy crinkles at the edges and he steps closer, sliding his warm hand around the nape of my neck. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
He kisses me.
And I don’t get any more writing done that night.
Our days and nights take on a dreamlike quality. I write with a sort of frenzy that takes on a life of its own. I’ve never been so totally immersed in anything I’ve done before. Not like this. And my first chapter begins to take shape.
When the pages are ready to show, Kade reads them. His comments are thoughtful and straight to the point. He’s perceptive. He’s a good first reader and I start to rely on his insights.
He cooks for me and insists I eat well to keep my energy up. I tell him he could definitely have a second career as a chef but he says he’s too busy keeping me satisfied.
When I’m not writing, we’re making love. Sometimes I’m writing while we’re still connected. It often feels like one long, constant act because we can’t bear to separate ourselves. He’ll sit with me in the writing room and play his acoustic bass guitar, or the old rhythm guitar that’s the one from his room, which has a deep, resonant sound. He’ll quietly work out new songs or he’ll play me the older ones, which I love. His music becomes a sort of playlist that inspires me as I dig deeper and write more pages, and more.
Kade plays three shows at different New Orleans venues on three consecutive nights, and I go with him. At the New Year’s Eve show, Kade sets up a place for me backstage where I can watch him. Word is out that Kade Tucker has a new love interest and people want to know. They want gossip and they want photographs. Which is sort of terrifying. We do our best to maintain as much privacy as we can.
I try not to think about his ex or the private investigator or any of the rest of it. He has more than enough security to keep us safe. But it’s there , in the darkness beyond the faces of the crowd. The feeling of being watched, like a silent threat that sometimes worries me.
When he’s on stage, Kade sings to me, that’s how it feels and that’s what he tells me. He told me he’s never played better. I don’t know if that’s true but his music has become like the man himself: a part of me. He’s my first reader and I’m his favorite fan.
Occasionally as I watch him or as he feeds me or as we lay in each other’s arms with our bodies still deeply, blissfully connected and still rippling with the intensity of our lovemaking, I can’t help myself. I wonder if this is too good to be true.
Can two people really fall this deeply, this quickly?
Yes. I think that’s possible.
I know it’s possible.
Our relationship has clicked into place so easily. It’s both fun and hot, thrilling and at the same time comforting. We’ve had only one argument so far—if it was even that—over the ring Theo gave me. Kade had it couriered back to Princeton and we haven’t discussed it again.
Kade Tucker is gorgeous and sexy and alpha as all hell, but my favorite thing about him is that he’s kind . He’s profoundly good . It’s this quality (along with the sex on a stick masculinity and that giant magic wand he insists on pleasuring me with all day, every day as a close second) that I love most of all.
But I can’t help wondering sometimes ... can it continue to be this easy and this perfectly in tune, with no bumps in the road or doubts or intrusions?
I don’t know.
Probably not.
Maybe it can.
My concerns pass when Kade looks into my eyes or thrusts even harder or writes me a new song.
I decide not to question it. I decide to let it be as beautiful as it is.
What I realize is that Kade has given me, along with all that comes with being his lover, the gift of myself. He’s helped me tune into the things I want most of all but have never really given the time to breathe. With him, I feel like the best, technicolored version of myself. It’s an outrageously addictive feeling.
Kade is cooking me breakfast when Summer calls me on Facetime. I’ve talked to her regularly but this is the first time she’s called for a video chat. “Let me see him. I don’t even believe you’re dating Kade freaking Tucker.”
“I’d show him to you but all he’s wearing is a very skimpy apron.”
“I don’t want anything important getting burned,” he says.
Summer whispers a squeal, “Is that him ?”
I hold the phone up so she can see his face. “Kade, I’d like you to meet my sister Summer. Summer, Kade Tucker.”
He puts his spatula down to hold the phone. “Hey, Summer.”
Summer is momentarily speechless. But then she recovers enough to gasp, “Oh my God, it is you. I thought she was making you up.” She laughs. “I am the hugest fan.”
“You’ll have to come to one of our shows sometime,” he tells her.
“I would love that so much.”
Just then, another call comes through.
Pete Clancy.
Holy shit. He might have news. “Mooch, can we call you back? Another call is coming through.”
“Sure you can. Bye, Kade. It was nice to meet you.”
“You too, darlin’.”
Kade hands me back my phone.
Summer is swooning. “Ahh, that accent —”
“I’ll call you back, Mooch. Love you.” I press the End and Accept button. “Hello?”
“Stella, it’s Pete Clancy.”
“Hi, Pete. I’m putting you on speaker. Kade’s here too.”
“Hi, Kade.”
“Hey, Pete. How’s the research going?”
“Very well. Are you sitting down, Stella? I’ve got a lot of information here for you. I’ve taken a few liberties but they’re all positive so I hope you’ll forgive me in advance.”
Liberties? “Of course.” Am I sitting down ? That sounds ominous. I am sitting down, on a stool at the marble island. “What did you find out?”
“I’m just going to lay it all out but go ahead and stop me if you have questions.”
“All right.” Am I ready for this?
“I used the information and was able to narrow it down fairly easily to a woman named Madeline Jeanne Archer. She lives in Mt. Juliet and has most of her life, aside from a year in California when she was a child when her family moved to Sacramento for her father’s job. She married briefly about a year and a half after you were born and had a son, whose name is Samuel. She divorced her husband two years after her son was born. She never remarried and she doesn’t have any other children. I took the liberty of contacting her to ask her if she did indeed give up a baby for adoption at the time of your birth and she confirmed she had, in North Carolina. When I spoke to her, she was very emotional.”
“ She was? ”
“Yes. She was extremely happy to hear from me. She said she was never given any information about where you had been placed or who had adopted you, or even the name of the adoption agency, so she had no way to search for you. She told me her parents had made the decision to put her baby up for adoption because she was only seventeen at the time and they didn’t approve of her marrying your birth father. She was sent away and was told not to have any contact with him again. They prevented him from following her by keeping that information from him, about her whereabouts.”
“Oh.” Wow.
“She said they were in love, but their families were of different social classes, which was important to her parents at that time.”
Wow.
“Stella?”
“Yes?”
“She asked if she could meet you. She very much wants to. She asked me to tell you she was sorry. She felt like she was doing the best thing for you at the time and she was given no choice. She gave me her phone number and her email address and she’d like you to get in touch when you feel ready. She hopes she’ll get to meet you.”
I realize then that my face is wet. Silent tears are absolutely streaming down my face. Kade smooths my hair back and uses his fingers to wipe away some of the tears. “Yes. Of course I would. I ... I mean, I’ll call her. Or I’ll email her. I ...”
“There’s no rush,” Pete says. “Take your time to process everything. I realize it’s a lot to take on board. I’m going to text you the info and you can contact her when you’re ready to. She said she has so much to tell you. She wanted me to tell you that she loves you. And that she’s thought about you every single day, praying that you’re safe and happy.”
Wow.
Wow.
Wow.
“Stella?”
“Yes. Okay. I will. I will. Pete?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure. I’m glad I could find her for you.”