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She's so young, and she's been through a lot already. I’d be lying if I said that I don't want to shield her from further shock and tell Tyler I agree with him. That I don’t want her to meet Lauren again. But Lauren is a part of her past. Part of Serene’s history. She should know that she was conceived via a surrogate. That it was Lauren who gave birth to her. When she's ready to know about it.
And perhaps, I remember what it felt like to be on the other side of that door from Serene. How it felt like my heart was breaking when I had to walk away from her. And how it feels now, like I've been given an unexpected reward with her being back in my life.
How I felt so grateful to the universe and so immensely lucky that I have her in my life. A miracle I still don’t think I deserve. How my entire being resonates when I'm with Serene. How I’ll never take for granted the fact that I have her in my life. And how I sense Lauren’s pain—I can’t claim to understand the complexity of the feelings that led her to wanting to give up Serene and then changing her mind. But I see the regret on her features. The desperation. The helplessness that led her to seek out Serene again and again.
But she can’t be allowed to shock Serene like this again. Which means, it’s best to have this conversation with her and come to an understanding. If a restraining order doesn’t stop her, there’s nothing to say she’s not going to try to see Serene again, despite all the legalities we throw at her. Instinct tells me the soft touch here will work better, for all of us.
Tyler’s biceps twitch. He curls his fingers into fists at his sides. He’s wearing a T-shirt that exposes his forearms, and the veins stand out in relief. His entire body is an ancient pillar of stone guarding the entry to a sacred space. He looks threatening and ferocious, every inch of him a protective barricade. Under the rage thrumming off him and saturating the air with menace, Lauren seems to shrink in size.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause her any distress." Her chin quivers.
"You broke the restraining order. I’m going to sue the hell out of you. I’m going to make sure you lose everything, you?—"
"Tyler," I murmur.
He freezes, taking a deep breath. I sense him gathering himself, then he shoots me a glare over his shoulder. Those heterochromatic eyes blaze at me. I’m not at the receiving end of that rage; nevertheless, it makes me flinch. His face still wears the remnants of the paint and the stickers Serene stuck on him. The paint is smeared because some of it is on my cheeks. I flush slightly, but not in embarrassment. More because it feels like a badge of honor to be linked to my husband and my daughter in this way. It marks us out as a unit. A tribe. I love the feeling.
And when I look at Lauren, I see the bleakness on her face. How much of an outsider she feels. How much of an outsider she always will be. And a part of me curses my soft heart, but I cannot, in good faith, allow Tyler to go through with the retributions he’s lined up for her in his head.
"I think we should go in and talk, honey," I say softly.
His gaze is piercing as he holds mine. Once more, we communicate without words on that wavelength which connects only the two of us. He blinks. Once. Twice. Some of the anger seems to fade. Once again, he understands what I’m trying to tell him. He doesn’t seem too pleased about it but gives me a jerk of his chin.
Then, he turns to Lauren. "I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want you in our lives. But my wife thinks otherwise." He rolls his shoulders, seeming to force more of the rigidity from his muscles. "You’d better come in."
58
Tyler
"You stowed away in the back of the gardener’s van and crept out and hid yourself in the shed when he wasn’t looking?"
She got past Quentin’s security team? That’s no small feat.This woman is more desperate than I realized.And Quentin needs to fire his entire security staff for letting it happen.
I rub at my temple trying to take in what she’s told me. My fingers come away streaked with color. The same color which is also smudged on my wife’s features, and on my clothes and hers. I love that it connects the two of us. I’m proud that it shows what we were up to before we were interrupted.
Cilla is seated next to me on the settee in my office. I weave my fingers through hers, knowing the paint from my fingers is going to stain her hand, but needing the contact.
The intruder who broke in and scared my daughter—again—is seated in the chair across from us. I can’t bring myself to think of her as the woman who carried my daughter to term. But it’s an unshakeable fact; something my wife has already recognized. It means, there will always be a link between her and Serene. One I might want to forget but can never erase.
I called Summer to stay with Serene. Then asked Connor and Brody, to act as backup security while Cilla and I deal with Lauren.
"Add breaking and entering to your list of misdemeanors. Combined with your having broken the restraining order, it’s enough to put you away behind bars for a long time."
She pales. Despite the early spring chill in the air outside, she’s also sweating. She locks her fingers together and hunches her shoulders. "I’m truly sorry." She swallows. "I know I shouldn’t have come, but…I couldn’t keep away. It’s been hell since I saw Serene hurt herself and fall into the pool. And I never got to see her afterward."
"She’s fine." I snap. "She doesn’t need you. She has her parents."
Cilla squeezes my hand, and I bite back the rest of the words threatening to spill out. On some level, I’m aware it’s not right for me to feel this level of animosity toward someone else. But I can’t forget that it's because of this woman that my child has been hurt, repeatedly.
Anger squeezes my chest. My every protective instinct is on alert. I feel like I want to hide my child away in a place where the likes of Lauren can never hurt her. But the mature part of me, the person I’ve become since meeting my wife, knows better.
I'm doing Serene a disservice by shielding her from her history—one she’s going to have to come to terms with, at some point.
If only I could go back in time and fix things so Serene would have had a more ordinary start in life. Every fatherly instinct in me wishes I could wipe the slate clean and have Serene be born as our child, with Cilla carrying her to birth. But that’s not going to happen.'What if' won’t change anything. 'What’s next' will.A quote Cilla shared with me—and it couldn’t be more fitting now.
Meanwhile, I’m going to do everything in my power to protect Serene and shield her from the events that led to her birth.
"I wanted to…make sure for myself." Lauren dips her chin. "It’s not about your ability to take care of her. It's clear, the two of you love her and will do anything for her. Serene is lucky to have both of you. But then, I always knew you would be a good father. It’s just"—she raises a hand—"there was this physical need in me to see her. That’s all. I couldn’t stop myself. I thought, I'd go mad if I couldn't see her and tell her I'm sorry."