Chapter 44 Tate #2
I reach for his hand and intertwine my fingers with his. The warmth of them brings back a rush of memories that I push down straight away. This isn’t about us right now.
“It’s okay if you need to call it. No one’s saying you shouldn’t. There is no right way to grieve. And you can trust me. I would never tell anyone about this. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Tate,” he murmurs with a sad smile. “That’s not why I didn’t tell you who I was calling.”
“It isn’t?”
“No.”
He strokes my hand with his thumb. Back and forth. Slow and gentle. Calm and in control. Barely.
I study his face. Study the deep frown lines that are back on his brow. Study the way his cheek clenches and his eyes pinch like it physically pains him to consider the words he’s about to say.
“Natasha left Molly on my doorstep with a note,” he says in a thick, measured voice. “And even though she walked away from her own daughter, I’ve spent every day terrified of the thought that she could come back and take her away again.”
I hold back my argument of him being her father and Natasha not being able to just walk back into Molly’s life and do that. Sullivan knows as well as I do that he has the means to protect Molly legally. But knowing it, and keeping the faith in it, are two different things.
Instead, I squeeze his hand in reassurance, and after a beat he squeezes mine back.
“I was terrified. It would keep me up at night, thinking of all the ways it could happen. As long as my family supported me, and I stayed strong, the chances were kept to a minimum. But then…”
“But then?”
He looks straight into my eyes. “Then I met you.”
“Me?”
“I haven’t been in a relationship since the day Molly came into my life and Claudia left it.”
“I don’t understand what that’s got to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you.” He shakes his head.
“For the first time Molly was at risk because I met someone who I didn’t want to lie to.
I met someone who I allowed myself the indulgence of picturing a future with.
I let myself imagine how you’d look the day we got married.
I let myself dream about you taking my hand and putting it on your stomach so I could feel our baby moving inside you.
I let myself hope, Tate. I knew better, yet I still did it anyway.
Everything I put you through as a result is my fault, because I was selfish. ”
“Are you saying you were lying to me? Sullivan…?” I press when he says nothing.
He blinks, fresh tears escaping from his lower lids.
“She’s not mine,” he whispers. “Molly isn’t mine.”
His grip tightens on his phone, drawing my attention to it again. Suddenly the magnitude of his grief takes on a new, deeper significance.
“She’s—?”
“Slade’s,” he confirms in a husky breath. “She’s my brother’s. He died, never even knowing she existed.”
He taps something into his phone, then turns the screen toward me.
I’ve seen photos of his brother before when I searched Sullivan up online.
But they were press shots, and ones taken at business events.
The one Sullivan’s showing me is of the two of them sitting together with drinks in their hands and the sunset behind them, painting the sky a vivid orange.
Slade’s hair is longer and his physique more muscular, but he still looks so much like Sullivan and vice versa.
Twins.
“The last photo of us. He died the following day.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, knowing nothing I can say will help.
Sullivan winces as he studies the image.
“They say losing a child is one of the hardest things to endure. And I’d have argued that losing a twin was on the same level.
He was my brother. I was created from the same cells as him,” he chokes.
“But then Molly came along, and I became a father. And despite missing him so much that I didn’t want to wake up some days, I understood.
Losing a child really is the worst thing someone could endure.
And every time I saw Natasha’s name flash up on my phone, I wondered if that was the day I’d finally lose everything. ”
“I had no idea,” I say, unable to stop my own tears from falling.
“Molly gave me a reason to keep going. It’s like Slade brought her to me the exact moment I needed her.
I was so close to giving up. And I swore the second I read Natasha’s note telling me she was his, but that now she heard he was dead that Molly was my problem, that I’d protect her with my own life.
She’s family. She’s his. And that means she’s mine too. I wouldn’t have survived without her.
“I’ve never been able to understand how a parent can abandon their child like Natasha did. She left Molly with me. With a stranger.”
“You’re not a stranger,” I say, cradling his face so he’ll look at me. “You’re her daddy.”
“I’m…” He blinks at me before screwing his face up and sobbing.
I pull him to me again, wrapping my arms around him. Although this time it isn’t only Sullivan who’s crying, it’s me too.
“She’s lucky to have you. I’ve never met such a loved little girl. Such an amazing little girl. You’ve done an incredible job.”
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I pull back and look into his eyes. My heart’s beating so deeply that I feel it through every fiber of my body.
“You’re an amazing father,” I breathe.
I run the pads of my thumbs over his damp cheekbones. He’s always been a beautiful man. But now, with fragments of his soul laid bare in the remaining tears coating his dark, thick lashes, he’s breathtaking.
I lean closer and press my lips to his in a gentle kiss. His breath stutters, and he kisses me back softly. Tenderly. So heartbreakingly gentle.
“I couldn’t give you what you deserved, Tate.” His soft words mix with our slow, light kisses. The kind of kisses that you know can’t go any further, but yet you aren’t strong enough to hold back from giving, because they spill from you like whispered promises and shared secrets.
Carrying the weight of everything with them.
Sullivan rests his hands on my hips as I position myself in his lap and continue to stroke his face and press delicate kisses to his mouth.
“DNA tests will show that I’m Molly’s biological father because we were twins.
Natasha knew the results coupled with her behavior meant she would never get near Molly without getting herself clean first. But for me to have a future with someone it would have meant telling them the truth.
It’s why I kept away from relationships.
Only my family know the truth. I lied to Claudia and told her Molly was mine because of the way she reacted when we found her.
And I decided I would never fall in love, because it would mean I’d have to tell someone the truth.
I’d have to trust them. And if something happened one day.
If they changed their mind and decided bringing up another woman’s daughter was too much for them, like Claudia did, then it would be Molly who paid the price.
My word against Natasha’s was one thing.
But the possibility of someone else knowing and telling someone?
Having people look into it and ask questions?
It could have meant me losing Molly forever if the truth had come out. ”
“And yet, somehow you still think you’re not an amazing father,” I say through tears.
“Everything you do is for Molly. I understand that. And I admire it. I grew up with just my dad looking out for me for most of my childhood, remember?” I take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye.
“All those decisions you’ve made for Molly…
It’s okay to have made them. Every single one. ”
The breath leaves his chest in a sob.
“It’s okay,” I repeat gently.
He pulls me to him, and our lips crush together in a single, bruising kiss before he rests his forehead against mine.
“I had to ID Natasha. I had to—”
“Shh.” I kiss him again.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“I wanted to trust you so much, Tate. More than anything, I wanted it to be different with you. I used to keep everyone from getting close to me.” He winces.
“I had a hotel suite and… the only time I’ve been there since we met was to be alone.
And I hated myself more than ever when I went.
I never want to set foot in it again. I… wanted to trust you…”
I press a finger to his lips. “You could have trusted me. But we’ll never know how things might have been now, because you didn’t.”
He pulls my hand away, his pupils flaring.
“I was too scared to try. It could have blown up in our faces. I’ve woken up thinking it’s just another day, and then witnessed my life get torn apart in front of me and been unable to do a fucking thing to stop it.
I’ve seen destruction. I’ve lived in nightmares. ”
“And I’m so sorry that you have. I really, truly am. I’m not saying it to be hurtful. It is what it is. And I understand why you didn’t tell me.”
“I had to protect Molly at all costs. And I was scared of what it would do to me if you left. Even if you never told anyone. Just the thought of you leaving us, I…”
I kiss him again, silencing the wounded noise that rumbles from deep inside his chest.
It’s heartbreaking seeing him like this. But it finally makes sense. Why he pushed me away like he did. Why he told me he couldn’t love me the way he wanted.
Why he encouraged me to walk out of their lives and live my own.
It all makes sense. But answers don’t make it any less tragic.
I pull back and look into his bloodshot eyes. “When did you last sleep properly?”
“The last time you were here,” he confesses in a voice so quiet I swear my heart disintegrates.
I stroke back the dark hair from his eyes.
“We should do something about that.”
It’s growing light outside, spilling a thin crack of sunshine through the drapes in Sullivan’s bedroom. I press a kiss to his forehead, making him stir. His exhaustion won over the moment we climbed onto his bed. He’s still wearing his shirt and suit pants.
Nothing happened.
He spent the night sleeping with his head resting on my chest.
I spent the night awake, watching him frown and mutter as his dreams tormented him like demons in the dark.
“Tate?” he murmurs sleepily, his arm tightening around my waist.
I check my watch. It’s almost six a.m.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, extracting myself from his grip and climbing gently from the bed.
He looks at me. I smile softly and he smiles back. But neither of us speak.
There’s nothing to say. Not right now.
Sullivan told me the truth, because Natasha died, and he was freed of the fear of her taking Molly. I meant every word I said about understanding why he chose to do things the way in which he has.
But it doesn’t make it any easier.
He’s told me the truth because now he can.
And as freeing as that might be. It’s also made something else glaringly obvious.
Sullivan Beaufort needs to grieve. For his brother, his mother.
And for Natasha.
It’s hit him hard that Molly’s mother is gone. She might have been a terrible one, but while she was alive there was a possibility that she could turn things around. That she could sort her life out and be a healthy and valuable part of Molly’s life.
As much as Sullivan won’t admit it, even to himself, I believe a small part of him hoped that one day Molly might have had a relationship of sorts with her mother.
Because he’s a good man. And an amazing father.
And right now while wounds are fresh I could be a distraction that keeps them open and bleeding.
He needs his family right now. And that’s not me.
“Can we…” He clears his throat. “Can Molly and I see you again soon?”
I look back at him from the doorway.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Can you? Are you ready for that after everything?”
His silence as he looks back at me still steals the air from my lungs even though I expected nothing else.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I’m not sure I’m ready either.”
I open the door.
“Tate?” he calls.
I swallow, not turning around.
“I’m sorry.”
I swallow past the thick lump in my throat, my eyes burning.
“I know. Me too,” I whisper.