Chapter 4
A fter Owen and Jonathan head into the other room it’s all I can do to pick my jaw up from the floor.
Gone is the boyish softness to his features and lanky limbs that never seemed to fit him quite right back then, instead they’ve been replaced with a stubble covered jaw sharp enough to cut yourself on and muscles that struggle to be contained under his shirt.
And don’t even get me started on the grey joggers he’s wearing. Honestly, I’m convinced men know exactly the power grey joggers have and that’s the exact reason they wield them against us.
So yeah…let’s not talk about the state of my panties after seeing him.
Shaking myself out of it, I take advantage of the freedom to explore. Assessing my surroundings, I make my way over to a bookcase littered with different trinkets and look at the different awards for restaurant of the year and framed newspaper clippings. I’m about to walk away when a framed photo half hidden behind one of the awards catches my attention.
At first glance, there’s nothing special about it. It’s a beautiful black and white shot of a younger Jonathan smiling at the woman pressed to his side in front of the beach. The longer I look, the more I see the resemblance—the woman, gazing up at him with hearts in her eyes and her hand protectively on her stomach, looks like Mum.
“That was the day we found out we were having a little girl.”
I jump back, an apology halfway out before I realise what he just said. “You have a child?”
He takes me by the elbow and leads me back to the sofa before continuing, “Helen and I met when she was an intern at one of my offices, and as much as I should have stayed away, I couldn’t. Not that she would have let me if I tried. Starting a family so young wasn’t in either of our plans, but from the moment she suspected she was pregnant, she was all in. And so was I.”
Mum always told me she didn’t know who Dad was. That it didn’t matter. It was me and her against the world and who needs men anyway? Except if what Jonathan is telling me is true, and that photo is screaming the truth at me, then she spent my whole life up until her dying breath lying to me.
She chose to hide him from me. What the actual fuck. I’m shaking my head in denial while I choke around the lump in my throat. I want to tell him to fuck off. Scream that there’s no way this is true and call him a bastard for joking about something like this. But I can’t.
“There’s no way…just no. Mum wouldn’t lie to me,” I cry as I stumble and blindly try to find a way out of here, only to be stopped when Jonathan gently tugs me into his arms, holding me tightly as if I’ll fall apart. I just might.
“We never wanted you to find out like this. There are reasons why your mum never told you about me. But things are changing, and I need you to give me a chance and trust me to keep you safe.” He rubs comforting circles on my back, all the while my heart breaks into pieces.
This man is holding me like I’m his whole world. Like he’s waited a lifetime for this opportunity, and maybe he has. After all, I know I have. When I was a little girl, I used to cry myself to sleep, wishing I had a dad to love me the way my mum did. I never told her how much it hurt or how much I wished things were different. What would be the point in hurting her over something that couldn’t be changed ?
Would it have changed anything had I told her then? Would she still have been here with us if only a few things were different?
My knees buckle under the weight of it all, and Jonathan holds me tighter as he leads me to sit down.
Everything I knew to be true is suddenly false in the most bittersweet way. I have more questions than answers, more confusion than certainty but one truth remains. A photo is worth a thousand words. And that photo is radiating pure and utter love from both of them. It’s clear that Mum must have trusted him, so he’s at least worth giving a shot. I owe it to her memory to hear him out.
With a final squeeze, I suppress my swirling emotions and pull back to meet his gaze. “I hope you know that once I’ve had some sleep, I’ll be quizzing you more on your history with Mum. And on what happened tonight,” I say.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, and if you’re comfortable with it, I’d like you to stay tonight. It’s late and there’s still far too many unknowns about what happened tonight for me to be comfortable letting you go home alone.”
At this unexpected revelation of his knowing I live alone, I’m momentarily taken aback, but my thoughts are interrupted as the elevator door opens. A man, who could easily pass for Jonathan’s grandfather, steps out carrying a medical bag, his stern face giving way to a friendly demeanour. Jonathan introduces him as Doc before stepping aside. As he makes swift work of checking me over, he offers me a kind smile. After some more poking and prodding and nearly blinding me with his little torch, he puts his tools away with a grunt and says, “Looks like your girl got lucky, Boss. Just a few scrapes and bumps but nothing a good night’s rest won’t fix.”
Jonathan thanks Doc and sees him out, then turns to me with an encouraging smile, indicating for me to follow him. He leads me through the expansive open-plan living and dining area, pointing out various rooms including his office, gym, and a bathroom on the ground floor. As we take the stairs, he supplies, “If you need anything, my room is just across from the spare room, but we’ll probably be in the office for a few hours. Spare toothbrushes are in the cupboard above the sink and there should be clean clothes in the wardrobe for you.”
With that, he leaves me in the most beautiful room. There’s a whole glass wall showcasing the beautiful sights of London lit up like a Christmas tree and the comfiest looking queen-sized bed with sky-blue covers. After a quick trip to the en-suite and changing into a shirt, I pass the fuck out, wondering if tomorrow I’ll wake up to find out this was all, in fact, a dream.