Chapter 41 Rhea
FORTY-ONE
RHEA
I see Spencer approaching from across the lawn, and something in his posture is different. Less urgent. Less rigid. But I can’t read it. Not exactly.
He stops in front of me and looks down, searching my face.
“When did you have Esme swabbed?”
The question catches me off guard. Not the content—I knew it was coming. I had the test done for him. So he would know. So there’d be no room for doubt.
But the way he asks—there’s something in his tone. Careful. Guarded. Like he’s trying to stay on solid ground.
“I had them do it here,” I say quietly. “On the second day. I only had one more day to legally comply.”
He nods once, then sinks onto the bench beside me. Silence settles between us, tight and bristling.
“I’m sorry about the letter,” he says eventually. “The legal team went too far. Came down too hard.”
“It was intense,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “And it scared me enough to know I’d comply no matter what.”
And that’s when the tears come. For the first time in four days, they break through again—hot and relentless.
“I’m terrified of losing her, Spencer,” I whisper. “Not just to RSV. But… to you.”
He jerks his head back, like I’ve slapped him.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I’m worried that you’ll come after her. That you’ll want to punish me for keeping her from you.”
He stares at me, his entire face crumpling in disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Rhea. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
“It’s not like that,” I say quickly, but I already know it doesn’t matter. I’ve messed up. Again.
“All I know is I should have told you. I didn’t. And if you decide to come at me—legally—I don’t stand a chance.”
He turns toward me fully now, jaw tight. “God, Rhea. I loved you. I fucking loved you. And you were hiding this from me the whole time we were together. Do you have any idea what that does to a person?”
I look away, ashamed.
“I had to ask myself,” he continues, voice lower now, more controlled, “what the hell you must have thought of me—not to tell me I had a daughter. Did you think I wasn’t worthy of knowing her? Of knowing you?”
I try to respond, but he cuts me off with a bitter laugh.
“Now you’re saying you still don’t trust me. That you’re afraid I’ll try to take her from you.”
“And you,” I say, unable to refrain from defending myself, “you thought so little of me that you believed this was all some elaborate scheme. That I was trying to con you out of a few million dollars.”
His face darkens. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” I say, voice rising. “You let your lawyers come after me like I was some grifter. You sent a threat instead of a question.”
“I didn’t know what to think,” he snaps. “I had no context. No explanation. Just a kid I didn’t know existed, and a woman I thought I knew—but apparently didn’t at all.”
“I was trying to protect you,” I say, almost begging him to understand. “I thought you already had a whole life and family, and I didn’t want to shatter it.”
He goes still.
Then, quietly—so quietly I almost miss it—he says, “But I didn’t have a wife, Rhea. Or a son.”
“I know that now,” I say, my voice breaking. “And every day I wish I could go back and do it differently. But I can’t.”
I glance away, forcing the words out.
“My reaction… it was a byproduct of my own screwed-up childhood. Of my father and his extra family. The younger woman, the baby he left us for. He never looked back.”
I pause, swallowing the ache in my throat.
“I couldn’t be that woman. And I couldn’t let Esme be that child. Any more than I could let either of us be a mistake you needed to make disappear.”
My voice trembles.
“I was terrified, Spencer. Pregnant. Alone. And just trying to survive.”
He doesn’t respond. He just sits there, staring at something far off in the distance, face unreadable.
And then, after what feels like forever, he says quietly, “Well…whatever comes next, I want you to know, I want to be her dad.”
He’s looking at me again, but I can’t quite turn to meet his gaze.
“When I heard the results were available, it hit me—if they were negative… I was going to be crushed. I’m glad to be her dad, Rhea. She’s amazing.”
Tears streak silently down my cheeks. He reaches over and rests a hand on my leg. Gentle. Tentative.
I place mine over his.
“I’m glad you are, too,” I whisper. “And so relieved you finally know.”
His fingers tighten slightly over mine, and he shakes his head.
“I’m not going to take her from you,” he says softly. “You have my word. You don’t need to be scared of that.”
I nod again, heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.
“It’s not just that,” I say, barely audible. “I’m scared of losing you.”
I pause.
“Scared I already have.”
He doesn’t say I haven’t.
But he doesn’t say I have, either.