Then There Were Three

CHAPTER FIVE

NIC HOPED LIKE HELL THE shock of the situation would wear off soon. Otherwise, he was in real trouble, because it didn’t feel as though fifteen years had passed since he’d last seen Megan.

More like yesterday.

Every time he met her gaze, he felt punched in the gut. Even her turmoil tugged at him. It was all over her face, a face he shouldn’t be so familiar with. Not after so long. Not after she’d blown out of his life without a glance back.

But he was aware, all right. Of every soft intake of breath. Of the way her lashes fluttered over her eyes as if she might block out everything for an instant. Of how her face had settled in with age, as if she’d grown into so much beauty, the blue, blue eyes, the full, soft mouth. Of the way her fingers tightened on the cup as if she were bracing herself.

He could relate to the feeling.

But when she lifted that magnificent gaze to him, she faced him squarely. “I didn’t keep Violet from you because I didn’t want her to know you. That never even crossed my mind. Not once in all these years.”

He didn’t have words. If she had wanted him to know his daughter, then she would have told him she was pregnant. That much seemed obvious.

“Why?” It was all he could manage, giving her a chance to make sense of this for him. It didn’t. None of it. Not the way she’d run away. Not the way she’d hidden her pregnancy.

She took another deep, shuddering breath, visibly steeling herself. He could see it all over her, in the tense set of her mouth, the rigid way she stood. She should have been a stranger by now. She wasn’t.

“Quite honestly, Nic, I was completely unable to cope with the situation. I freaked. My parents freaked. I wasn’t in any position to raise a child, and I knew you weren’t, either. Abortion wasn’t an option, but adoption seemed like a good one. My mother found a private agency that handled everything from the medical care to the legalities. She took a leave from the university and we went to one of their maternity centers.” She paused briefly as if considering her next words. “At the last minute I couldn’t go through with it. That’s it. I know that doesn’t even begin to explain—”

“No, it doesn’t.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Last I heard there were laws that protected fathers from this sort of thing.”

She flinched, but held his gaze steadily. “There are.”

God, he was struggling. He’d promised himself not to feel anything until he had the facts, to treat this no differently than any case, buy himself some time to figure out how to feel.

The anger surprised him, and he was suddenly grateful they were standing in public, an external control that would help him keep the floodgates in check.

He was the one who’d been kept in the dark, who’d been sandbagged by the sudden appearance of a daughter he’d never known existed. He had every right to be pissed. For a hundred reasons. Every one of them valid.

“What did you do, Megan, lie?”

“Yes.”

Simple. Factual. How could he attack an admission like that? The fact that he wanted to warned he’d better get a lid on his reactions before he found his face plastered all over the front page of the Times-Picayune with the headline: New Police Chief Creates Scene at Airport.

This was Damon’s damned fault. If Nic had slept last night, he wouldn’t be standing here, raw-edged and ready to explode. He might have had self-control on his side when he’d opened the door to his office and stepped into a minefield.

Megan wasn’t helping. She waited, so stoic, as if she’d known she’d have to face the music and was determined to take whatever he dished out. As if she felt she deserved it.

And she did. Every damned bit.

“Did you think I wouldn’t help?” He wanted an answer. “Or did you think I wasn’t good enough for you?”

Good enough to sneak around with, but not good enough to stand beside when life got demanding.

“Neither, Nic. I wasn’t thinking,” she said simply. “Not for myself. That’s the point. There was never any question you’d do the honorable thing, none at all. I knew you’d help in any way I needed you. I thought you might even suggest marriage.”

Another sucker punch. “That wasn’t good enough.”

She shook her head, sending dark waves trailing over her shoulders. “What I wanted had nothing to do with it. You have every reason in the world not to believe me, but I’m being entirely honest when I say it wasn’t about you at all. I was in love with you. I knew how hard you worked. I respected you for it. You made me feel spoiled and selfish by comparison. But I also knew how much you wanted a future, a chance to go to college. You didn’t need another family to support.”

“That wasn’t your call to make.”

“No, it wasn’t. But I didn’t realize that at first. I just reacted. You would have been able to handle the situation. I didn’t know how. I relied on my parents to make the decisions like I always had. What they said made sense at the time. They had their reasons—”

“Don’t bother telling me about your parents’ reasons. I don’t want to hear about how I was your dirty little secret.”

She paled in response to that verbal punch, her grip tightening on the cup until he thought the lid might pop off.

He gave a harsh laugh. “I never even questioned why you didn’t let me pick you up from your house. I suppose that should have been my first clue—”

“I’m so sorry, Nic.” Her words spilled out, a broken whisper. She let her gaze slide from his, couldn’t face him. “I am so, so sorry. If I could take everything back, I would. I never meant to hurt you.”

He couldn’t open his mouth. Simply didn’t trust himself. The past might have happened years ago, but the anger poisoning him was all about right now, about wanting to deny he’d ever given her that much of him.

“I have no excuses.” She shrugged, such a helpless gesture. “What I did was wrong on every level. I knew my parents didn’t approve of you, but I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to them, so I sneaked around behind their backs because I wanted to be with you. It’s really that simple. I handled my pregnancy no different. I listened to what I was told and let it make sense.”

She finally let go of the cup. When she faced him again, he saw resolve in her expression, and resignation.

“For the record,” she said, “I don’t blame my parents. Not for my choices. They did what they felt was right. Whether I understand or respect their reasoning doesn’t take away the fact I was responsible. What I did was unfair to you and our daughter. If I’d have been thinking, I might have realized it. But I panicked. By the time I’d figured everything out, I’d made a huge mess and didn’t know how to fix it.”

Even the hurt he felt didn’t touch the anger. And her apologies didn’t take anything away, didn’t explain why he was only finding out he had a daughter when she was nearly grown.

He brought the cup to his lips, more for something to do than the cooling coffee. At this stage of the game, caffeine wasn’t going to do a damned thing except wind him even tighter.

Nic was so aware of her standing across from him, that ridiculous neon bag by her feet. He heard what she said, but nothing was processing. He didn’t understand, was almost disbelieving that the girl who’d not only given him her virginity but who’d lain in his arms and claimed to love him would have handled things this way. God, it was like he was eighteen years old all over again.

That made him angry, too.

“Even if I wanted to believe you,” he finally said, “how does any of that translate into now? Every day you woke up with our daughter, every time you took her on a plane and moved her from one country to another, you chose to keep her a secret.”

“I did. And that was intentional, Nic, damage control, because the choices I made impacted Violet.”

“I’d say so.”

“If you’ll give me a chance to explain, this part might actually make sense.”

He sincerely doubted it, but nodded anyway.

“The minute Violet was born, I knew I couldn’t go through with the adoption. Everyone tried to reason with me—my parents, the people at the maternity home. Everyone said it was a knee-jerk reaction to giving birth. But it wasn’t. It was the first time in my entire life I actually thought for myself. I heard what everyone was saying, but I knew what I wanted. Strangers were not going to raise my daughter. That’s about all I knew. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to care for her.

“The agency is a reputable one. It’s a religious not-for-profit that operates in several disadvantaged locations around the world, places with high mortality rates from poverty and disease. This agency places children with stable families wherever they can find them. The maternity homes are for mothers who’ve lost husbands or whose families can’t afford to feed them. Sometimes these homes are the only chance an infant gets to survive. They really do a lot of good work.”

Keeping him in the dark was good work?

“Your mother took you out of the country so you could circumvent the law about getting my permission for the adoption?” He wasn’t sure why he asked when the answer was obvious. Maybe he simply needed to hold her accountable in some lame way, to feel the illusion of some control.