Reunited By Their Secret Son

Her throat felt suddenly raw. She’d judged him and hadn’t known what was happening in his life.

Please stop being so nice. And I’m sorry about your leg.

I have another one, it’s okay. ;-)

She knew it wasn’t. How could it be? How could he have dealt with losing a limb and the self-esteem issues that came with it and still be funny? But she knew the one thing he didn’t need was her pity. She didn’t really have any; if anything she was amazed by his resilience. Although she remembered his mental wobble when he’d briefly thought he wasn’t fit to be a parent.

And I’m sorry about your collarbone and pelvis and spine and hypothermia and... I can’t remember the rest of the injury list.

Just start at the As and work your way through the alphabet, basically.

He’d needed rebuilding, on the outside and the inside, probably. No wonder he was gruff at times. He was probably still in physical pain—those kinds of injuries didn’t just heal and stop hurting.

I can’t imagine how that would have been for you. If I remember, you played rugby or something...?

Ah, yes...my glittering rugby career. You’d never heard of the Swans, right? Top of the Scottish league. I was their best player. And then I wasn’t. Stuff happens. So, anyway... Can we meet? If we both have a nine-to-five maybe we could do something at the weekend? The three of us? You can see if I’m suitable.

I know you’re suitable.

She had no choice. He was Finn’s dad and he’d been through so much she couldn’t deny him the chance to get to know his child. If anything it could be healing, give him something other than his broken body to deal with—something positive. And now she was starting to feel sorry for him.

No more messages came through for a while, and she thought the conversation was over until halfway through another glass of wine when she received another one.

It was a good night, Sophie.

She’d lived in Edinburgh ever since that night and had never again stepped inside the pub where they’d met. Had always skirted her path away from the hotel they’d spent the night in. But that hadn’t stopped her thinking about it. Thinking about the way he’d kissed her and the need she’d felt for him. She’d never felt so connected to someone, so wanted. And, whatever else he’d done or not done afterwards, she knew he’d felt the same, at least for a few hours. Her body prickled with the memory, a hot rush of need. And, despite everything, they’d produced the love of her life.

She typed on her phone and sent a message back.

It was. A good night...

Then she tapped quickly and sent another message before she had the chance to second-guess herself.