Page 47 of Before Broken Vows

She should've told me.

But my father made that impossible.

Shit, I'm so confused. So lost. Who's at fault? Who do I blame? Her? My father? Me?

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I ignore it. It buzzes again. And again. Someone's calling, but I can't talk to anyone right now.

Instead, I reach for my wallet. Behind my ID, there's a photo of her I kept. Stassi on the balcony of my Chicago house. Her dark hair catching the breeze. She didn't know I took it. One of those rare moments when she was just mine.

I trace her outline with my thumb.

She had my son. She raised him alone.

And she came back.

The realization hits me. She could have stayed hidden forever. Could have kept him from me permanently. But she came back, knowing I might hate her. Knowing I might never forgive her.

Granted, it's because she's in trouble. But clearly it's not just her trouble anymore—it's ours.

The phone buzzes again. This time I pull it out, ready to throw it out the damn window, but the name on the screen stops me.

Ares.

My brother. The only person who might understand this betrayal.

But even as my thumb hovers over the answer button, I know I can't tell him. Not yet. Not until I understand it myself.

I switch the phone off completely and toss it onto the passenger seat.

I sigh and realize all the pain she's caused me was her trying to protect me.

That's what fucks me up the most.

Because I would've chosen her. Every single time.

I sit in the silence.

I don't know how long I'm there—ten minutes, an hour, who the fuck knows—before the stillness starts to eat at me.

I can't stay away.

I can't sit here and do nothing while the mother of my child is sitting alone in a room down the hall from mine, probably thinking I've abandoned her for good.

Fuck that.

She doesn't get to be the only one who makes decisions.

I throw the car into gear and peel out of the dirt, tires spitting stones in my wake.

I'm halfway back to the estate before I even realize what I'm going to say.

And by the time I pull into the circular driveway, I know one thing for sure?—

There's going to be no more secrets. No more avoiding things to keep the other person safe.

I walk inside and head straight for her room.

I stop at her door.